It’s not uncommon that when I make these quasi-spiritual journeys, they’re extremely last minute. I’m sure you know the type. You’re at work on a Wednesday, growing tired of corporate-speak and meeting after spreadsheet after PowerPoint. Thursday comes around and you’ve tuned almost everyone and everything out. Might as well be Charlie Brown’s teacher on the other end of that Zoom call. By Friday morning you’re like, “F*ck it, I gotta get away.” Zero planning, no time to make arrangements to meet up with friends.

This isn’t a scripted week in the Driftless. It’s more or less a rushed act of tossing some hastily gathered fishing gear in the trunk after work, turning up the car stereo, and driving. In my case, driving north. Eight hours north to be exact. Traffic permitting, of course.

When you have that much time alone in the car it gives you time to question things. Do I really have to piss that bad to pull off here? Which Doobie Brothers songs are better, the ones before or after Michael McDonald? But dare I say that listening to a Riverhorse Nakadate podcast will make you question every choice you’ve made in your life.

If you’re not familiar, Riverhorse is a very interesting fellow – author, conservationist, adventurer, filmmaker, and a uniquely free spirit. His ethos is essentially that you only have one life, so you should be sure to live it. And boy, he has. Hearing him speak always leaves me both inspired and somewhat depressed. Does an office job give me joy? Am I doing what I really want to with my life? Am I a coward for not making changes?

“…these people are home watching TV and on their phones and gosh, it’s not a dress rehearsal. Like, this is our one and only life. I’m sorry, but I mean, worst case scenario, ride your bike somewhere to a park and have lunch.” — Riverhorse Nakadate

Arriving at my hotel at the foot of the Smokies after midnight on Friday evening, there was some dread in knowing I’d have to leave first thing Sunday morning. I was realistically only going to have a single day in between to fish. So we were going to live Saturday to its fullest. At least the weather looked good to do so.

At the gravel trailhead lot bright and early, I was eager to hike back a mile or two and start the morning off on a good note. As I sat on the tailgate lacing up my wading boots, I looked up to find a truck with two gentlemen inside that wasn’t there a minute prior. A bit fidgety, they got out and began walking over, checking the windshields of the other parked vehicles. They had one of those roof-mounted rod carriers and were both wearing polarized sunglasses and Patagonia sun hoodies. That Fitz Roy mountain trout logo is an unmistakable tell. They were here to fish.

“Do you need a parking permit here?” one of them shouted over, slightly agitated. We were technically in the Park, so you did in fact need a parking pass… there was a sign right at the trailhead entrance that stated it clear as day. I said, “I’m pretty sure, but I don’t think you can buy one here…” I knew you couldn’t buy one here. There were no machines, no way to print something out for your dashboard. I don’t know why I answered without conviction.

The two of them looked at each other, said something unintelligible as they deliberated, then hopped back in the truck and drove off. They just didn’t want to risk it. Not sure Riverhorse would have made the same call. More stream for me, I guess.

Dropping down into the water off the trail, it felt good to have the current slide alongside my legs again. The levels were ideal. Not too low, not too high, and the flows were absolutely perfect. A cool trickle eventually penetrated my new neoprene wading socks, tickling the bottom of my feet. I was where I wanted to be. Where I needed to be.

It wasn’t long after I traversed that initial section that I’d located my first fish, a tiny rainbow coaxed from a deep run by a beadhead nymph. The soft tenkara rod flexed deep, exaggerating the fight well beyond the trout’s diminutive dimensions. After a prompt landing and release, a virtual carbon copy of the first ‘bow mistook my offering for food on the very next drift.

Two quick fish. Things couldn’t be going any better. Until they didn’t. Things shut down hard for a while.

Much like the car ride up, a long series of empty casts can make your mind wander. Should I tie on a futsu kebari? Should I be tapping instead of twitching? Am I fishing at the right depth? Did I remember to pack some Nabs for lunch?

Eventually, that haze of second-guessing was quickly lifted by some tension at the end of my level line. Funny what sort of clarity a shot of adrenaline can bring. A few more fish to hand, rainbows again. It’s rare to find browns or brookies in this particular stretch of water.

The rest of the day continued much like the first half. Feast or famine. I’d find clusters of trout, then nothing for an extended stretch. Upon taking a break to re-rig after a run-in with a particularly unforgiving rhododendron, I took some pause. Filtered and drank some water, relaxed on a rock for a bit, and confirmed the presence of those snack crackers nestled deep in my Zimmerbuilt pack. No famine on that front.

As I approached the last obstacle course of pocket water before my planned exit, I encountered what were possibly the two best fish of the day. The first rose from the depths to engulf my kebari as soon as it touched down upon a picture-perfect little run of greasy water. Once in the net, the hungry rainbow proudly displayed one of those tiny pot bellies. You could tell it had been feeding well.

The final trout attacked with a similarly aggressive topwater take. Drifting the kebari around the unseen side of a mid-stream boulder, this rainbow rocketed from a shady lair to tear the fly from the surface, then went on two surprisingly powerful runs. Aided by the current, the best fight was saved for last. A few quick photos later and it was back in its lie. I decided my day of fishing was done. About seven hours had passed since I first arrived, and it would take at least another hour to hike back to the car and drive into town to get cleaned up before grabbing a proper bite to eat.

A warm shower feels amazing after a day of fishing. Just standing under the water and letting it run over your shoulders as you empty your mind is intoxicatingly relaxing. Time slows to a halt. You could be in there for three minutes or thirty, in a trance, unintentionally neglecting the objective of washing your hair or body. It’s the hotel’s water bill, not yours. I already paid for the room, I’m getting my money’s worth.

Dinner was a short walk across the street to a favorite Mexican restaurant of mine. Quickly seated, chips and salsa appeared on the table before I could even get comfortable. As the first real food I’d had since those crackers, they both vanished quickly. Steak, onions, beans, and rice followed. A tall, cold unsweetened “Yankee” iced tea to wash it all down. Some people are intimidated by eating in restaurants alone. I genuinely don’t understand that phobia.

Scrolling through my phone before leaving, I was curious if there was anything else to do in town. It was Saturday night, and as it happened, the longest day of the year. The town’s website was advertising a free clog dancing show in one of the community parks. Why not? Not usually my thing, but when in the Smokies…

Upon arrival, I quickly realized these were not just any cloggers; that guy from the internet memes was one of the dancers. You probably know the one. It was surprisingly entertaining. I don’t know if it was the way the ladies’ puffy skirts bounced around or how ol’ Zeb wiggled his knees and ankles like Jell-O, but it was the kind of thing that once you start watching, you just can’t look away. I’d missed the first hour, but that second hour absolutely flew by. Incredibly fun.

With the show over but still not quite dark yet, a quick drive up the parkway was in store to catch one of the overlooks as the sun dropped behind the hills. Ballhoot Scar was my choice. Had it been autumn, those mountains would have been ablaze with color. Being summer, the colors of choice were multiple tones of green, tinted by hues of atmospheric blue the further your eyes traced down the valley. I don’t take in the simple beauty of overlooks enough when I’m in the Smokies. That’s something I need to change with intention moving forward.

Now past dusk, I stopped at a gas station convenience store for something sweet before heading back to the hotel for good. I’m not a big dessert guy, but I needed something to take the edge off a salty dinner. I just had that taste in my mouth. Initially tempted by a Coke, I instead found a chocolate and vanilla ice cream sandwich in the Blue Bunny branded deep freeze by the register. It was easy to miss beneath a spinning countertop display of Bic lighters and cheap sunglasses. That’d certainly do the trick.

And not long after that ice cream sandwich was gone, Saturday was too. Time for bed.

Up early again Sunday, there was no questioning my weekend’s choices, or life’s choices, on the drive home. I’d made the most of my Saturday. Fished hard, ate well, and found some amusement that only this corner of the country can provide. The car ride was filled with smiles and warm memories I think even Riverhorse would be proud of. Yeah, I had work again on Monday. But that was okay. This Smokies buzz would hold me over for a while.

One day in the mountains. Sometimes that’s all you need.

This post was originally published at Tenkara Angler. It’s been ported over here to align with the rest of my Fishing Reports.

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First off, the video is magnificently shot. The brown at the end is absolutely gorgeous. It also has an interesting message, debate, (whatever you want to consider it) as its central theme. It’s definitely worth your time.

The post Strange Brown – The Fate of Brown Trout in Japan appeared first on Troutrageous! Fly Fishing & Other Nonsense.

One thing I didn’t mention about my Driftless trip: on the last day, in addition to catching a bunch of nice fish on my Orvis Superfine Carbon rod, I snapped the tip by the ferrule at the very end of the outing. 100% user error.

I used Orvis’ online warranty tools to send the rod in for repair, and now that it’s back in my hands, I’m happy to report the process was extremely easy and essentially painless.

I logged into my online account, went to the warranties page, and picked the rod I was sending in. The system had preloaded every rod I’d registered with Orvis, so this was a breeze, even though my model is discontinued. I filled out a brief online form, printed a shipping label, packed it up, and sent it off. There was a repair fee, but they didn’t charge me until the rod was on its way back.

Upon receipt, my rod was beautifully repaired, accompanied by a nice pre-printed thank you note and a sticker. You always win bonus points with a sticker. The whole process took about a month, door to door.

The detail I really appreciated was a field in the online form asking whether the rod had “sentimental value.” That way, if Orvis couldn’t repair it and needed to replace it entirely, they’d cap off the cork butt section of the old rod and send it back as a memento. As someone who once had their first real fly rod replaced with a different model without any notice, that’s just a nice touch.

I haven’t gone through the fly rod repair process in probably ten years, so maybe this is par for the course with other manufacturers these days. But either way, kudos to Orvis for a great customer experience.

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Leigh Smith (Finfollower.com) has been referenced on the blog before, he was even the subject of a “Catching Up With…” interview a few years back. But recently, I learned through Leigh’s Instagram that he’s hosting a fishing show on Connecticut public access television called On The Fly.

See what I mean, this isn’t some Zoom interview. This is actually face-to-face in a TV studio. How cool is that?

I guess this is something Leigh originally started like 10 or 11 years ago but stopped doing at some point. I totally missed that. Now that he’s filming again, Leigh also uploads them to his YouTube channel, which I totally missed too. Now I’m literally a FinFollower follower on YouTube. LOL! You should be too.

As of this post, he’s hosted two new episodes, the first with Don LaChance, Program Lead at Veterans Healing on the Fly, and the second with Gary Steinmiller, President, Connecticut Fly Fisherman’s Association.

Anyway, hats off to Leigh for rebooting On The Fly, and being yet another doer of cool shit!

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The last two or three weeks have been quite the blur. There’s a lot going on at the moment, yet I’m having trouble focusing on any of it. I’m generally good at multitasking, but there’s just something “off” at the moment, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Perhaps all that social media induced brain rot that folks talk about has finally set in. I don’t know.

That being said, I figured I’d sit down today, Sunday, and write a new “musings” post. Not totally fishing related, although there are a few fishy themes, just sorting some things out in my head in a way that makes sense to me.

A New Book

I recently picked up a new book that’s a compilation of stories of fly fishing in southern Appalachia, Tight Lines & Tall Tales by Neil Norman. It’s also illustrated by Smokies fishing guide and artist, Ian Rutter. Depending on what circles you travel in, you may have seen some recent publicity around it. As mentioned, I haven’t really made time to read more than the first two chapters so far, but I’m going to see if I can change that. A page turn is better than a scroll any day.

Theatre, Theatre, Theatre

Not for me, but for my two most favorite ladies. As you know, Lilly is spending the summer up in New York working on a show as a dresser. She’s reporting all is going well and she got to meet and talk to the Director (who also directs on Broadway), which was a big thrill. She’s also the only one on the wardrobe team still in college. All the others are professionals, so she’s the baby of the bunch.

Back in Jacksonville, K.C. is working on a local production of Into the Woods. She’s the wardrobe supervisor and has been going non-stop sewing, stitching, and creating some really beautiful costumes for the cast. The show opens on June 18th, so they’re all in crunch time. Between her being at the theater or holed up in her sewing room, I honestly haven’t seen her much the past two weeks, but I know everything is going to turn out great!

A Change in Travel Plans?

I had mentioned that I might have a Catskills meander later this summer in and around fetching Lilly from New York. While that is still planned, it may be cut a little bit short. The reason? I might be using some of those vacation days on a different trip at the very end of the summer. One that involves international travel to a place I never really thought I’d visit. A certain set of favorable circumstances are still being pieced together, but if I were a betting man, I’d be wagering on it happening. More to come there of course…

The Daily Grind

As mentioned in this post’s lede, I’m definitely in a rut. I recently turned 49 and I feel like that mid-life crisis is hitting harder than ever. Despite a generally positive attitude and the desire to find joy in small things, I just feel old and tired, I’m not getting much satisfaction from my job (I only hear Charlie Brown’s teacher in daily meetings). Even during my free time on the weekends, I’m not super motivated to do anything. Hrmph.

I’m going to start small with some physical fitness activities I’ve fallen behind on and see if that helps any. I’m hoping those, combined with less screen time and more intentional creativity will help. Perhaps I’ll tie some flies or take on a household project – something that will create even a minor feeling of achievement. Maybe mix in some local fishing too, although it’s been so damn hot lately.

I don’t know, we’ll see. Any suggestions? I’ll certainly take them.

P.S. – That monkey riding on the back of an African wild dog(?) painting used as the featured image of this post is titled The Arrangement by artist Tracie Harris Thompson. Several of her works are hanging in Moon River, my favorite pizza restaurant in Jacksonville and I thought it was pretty cool.

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Now, the brand Native Instinct, who makes some really awesome fishing-themed apparel, have released a limited Apache Trout Recovery Drop to celebrate and further support exactly that effort. The tagline is “Recovered. Not Finished.” which I think is just about perfect. Because while the delisting is worth celebrating, the Apache trout exists wild in exactly one place on earth: the cold headwater streams of Arizona’s White Mountains. Climate change, non-native species pressure, and habitat fragility are still very real concerns.

A guaranteed donation comes from every item sold and directly goes toward supporting Trout Unlimited’s Paradise Creek fish passage project. $30 of each hoodie, $10 of each long sleeve, and $5 of each tee or hat. The artwork was hand-drawn by Tori Horton, a member of the Navajo Nation.

I’ve been following Native Instinct on Instagram for a while. They celebrate native fish and wild places with art-forward designs that don’t feel like the usual fishing apparel. This drop is no different. If you want to support the ongoing efforts of a genuine conservation win, go check out the Apache Trout Recovery Drop. It’s available June 5–14, or until sold out with no guaranteed restock.

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Drove up over the weekend and dropped the kid off at her summer theatre gig in the Hudson Valley. Was supposed to have a work meeting in NYC on Wednesday, so I was going to stay in Hudson, NY for a few days, work remotely on Monday & Tuesday, take the train into the city for the meeting on Wednesday and fly home. The meeting got cancelled, so I cut the trip a little short.

Beautiful region of the country, can’t wait to return once Lilly’s show wraps up…

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Exciting times here in the Troutrageous! household. I’m a day away from a road trip with my daughter up to the Hudson Valley of New York where she’ll spend the summer doing theatre related things. This isn’t the potential fishing trip I referenced in an earlier post, but rather the beginning of her summer adventure. But I love a good road trip, so I’m excited. Northward bound! Anyway…

In my ongoing homage to the now discontinued Orvis News blog (R.I.P., most of the old URLs don’t even work anymore) and its Friday Fly-Fishing Film Festival posts, here’s this week’s sampling of fly fishing or otherwise fishy films.

“For best results, watch all videos at full-screen and in high definition. Remember, we surf so you don’t have to. But if you do stumble upon something great that you think is worthy of inclusion in a future F5, please post it in the comments below, and we’ll take a look.”

Good ol’ Yvon is back on a podcast. He talks simple fly fishing before hitting meatier topics…

Enjoyed tagging along on this trip to central New York. ‘Twas action packed indeed…

I found this far more interesting than I should of. Who knew Pflueger started in Akron, OH…?

Some good dudes in this video. I really enjoyed their adventure through this canyon…

Epic meadow fishing for cutties? Count me in. This FLY ALL SZN is a must watch…

The process of machining reels is really cool. This Nautilus tour is too…

As it says in the comments, “Truly a cracking doc “…

My friend Chuck suggested I post a video from Bugs of the Underworld. Here’s Mayfly…

I can’t go without posting another fantastic Wild Fly video. This time in Florida, hell yeah…

Last but not least, avocado & trout. Sounds delicious to me…

The post T! Friday Fly-Fishing Film Festival 05.29.26 appeared first on Troutrageous! Fly Fishing & Other Nonsense.

As we were walking back to the car after the meal, I noticed a face staring back at me in the SUV parked directly across from ours. It was dangling on a string from the rear view mirror. Puzzled, I walked closer to get a better look. I couldn’t quite make out the face from where I was standing, so I snapped a photo so I could zoom in.

Is that Paul Walker?

I’m not sure who the young fellow is on the air freshener(?) hanging slightly beneath and in front of him, but it seems like Mr. Fast & Furious (R.I.P.) himself is this SUV driver’s co-pilot. I thought that was mildly amusing for some reason. I mean the photo’s still on my phone a full week later and still not deleted. Maybe I’m totally off base and it’s someone else more current that I’m just not cool enough to recognize.

Anyway, sometimes you see something out in the wild that your mind thinks is so random you just want to jot it down. This is such an occasion.

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If you don’t live in the Southeast, you may not have been aware that the Atlanta date was unceremonious cancelled for 2026 due to a bit of a scheduling spat with the prior venue, the GAS South Convention Center in Duluth, GA. The Atlanta Fly Fishing show always served as a fun way to start off the new year’s fishing season, one I looked forward to with anticipation. Having it cancelled was a bummer.

Well, as we visit the recently published 2027 lineup on the The Fly Fishing Show’s website, the most southern stop is back, rebranded the “Georgia” show, with a weekend at the Classic Center in Athens, GA. Let’s Go!

I don’t know much about Athens, the Classic Center, or anything else as most everything is “TBA” on the website, but I’d expect the lineup to be similar to other years. The one thing that is confirmed are the dates and times: Saturday, January 9th from 9AM – 5:30PM and Sunday, January 10th from 9AM to 4:30PM.

Maybe I’ll see you there…

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