The Trout Zone

Wyoming Return: Warmup Hike

2026-10-18T10:44:07.486-05:00

After months of planning, a long drive across the country, and a major shift in plans before we ever set up our tents or started fishing, it was nice to wake up in my tent the first morning in Wyoming's Wind River Range. Anxious to get started, I was out of my tent shortly after first light and in plenty of time to enjoy a great sunrise. This would be a theme for the early part of our trip.

Our plans that day were to revisit a lake that John and I had enjoyed on our first trip in 2023. The total distance was very manageable and would be a great warmup hike without our heavier overnight backpacks. The intent was to get around 8 miles or so in to help us acclimate before putting on the heavy packs. Best of all, the target lake would enable us to get a species or two that might be difficult to find elsewhere on our planned itinerary.

We hit the trail after a slow ride over lots of washboard with a healthy dose of potholes. The trailhead was exactly the same as I remembered it, and soon we left the dusty road behind as we walked through the pine forest. Hiking fast, we were soon entering the Popo Agie Wilderness and climbing steadily to our target lake. This lake is a bit below treeline, but close enough that the views open up in a dramatic way.

Walking along, I noticed that some of the wildflowers that had been growing in profusion in 2023 were much less prevalent. It appeared that even though our timing was similar, lots of plants were further along than they had been on our last trip. Still, there were enough interesting blooms to keep me looking.

As the trail approached the lake, it skirted a lovely meadow where the stream carried enough water to suggest trout might be hiding in the undercuts. Sure enough, I pitched my Parachute Adams in and quickly found the first trout of the trip, a brook trout. These generally small fish overpopulate in the Rockies unfortunately where they are looked down upon as interlopers. My Smoky Mountain natives are invasives out west and generally treated as such by fisheries biologists. I'm still glad to catch them and they have saved a day of fishing for me on more than one occasion.

Leaving the small meadow behind, we were soon soaking in views of the lake. The odd rise was visible as well, so we knew there were fish active. On my last trip I had only fished the lake with a tenkara rod when we were passing by with full backpacks on our way to our campsite. This time, we had carried full fly rods and even had some sinking lines packed away just in case. Thankfully, we wouldn't need those.

It took slightly longer to start finding fish than the previous trip, but we were still into fish within minutes. There was some chop on the surface that made spotting fish a little more challenging, but if you could get a good angle to see into the water, you would also see fish.

This particular lake is fun because of the variety it offers. We caught plenty of brook trout but also found cutthroat and tiger trout. Some of them ate nymphs and some ate dry flies.

I didn't really intend to walk around the whole lake, but before I knew it, I was at the inlet with a decision to make: push on across the inlet stream and finish circuiting the lake or retrace my steps and call it a day. Being my first day at altitude, the second option was probably the smarter of the two, but not knowing if or when I would be back pushed me onward.

My buddy John was game to keep going, so we were soon climbing over boulders on the north bank. I stopped for a feast on wild blueberries, the first of many on this trip.

It was over on that far bank that John got an epic dry fly eat from a nice cutthroat. We had been leapfrogging each other and he was slightly ahead of me. I saw the whole thing out of the corner of my eye. Being a dry fly fanatic, John was in his element when the nice cutthroat rolled and sipped in the most cutthroat of ways possible. I could tell it was a nicer fish and quickly reeled my rod up and raced over to be ready to help as needed. Turns out John had things under control, so I just took a few pictures to document a neat moment.

By this point, I was wondering where Elam was. He had been catching fish so steadily that he hadn't moved very far from where we started. Since he hadn't been to this lake before, he wasn't in as big a hurry to see the next cove as I was. This was more a chance to see the whole lake for me. The distance added bumped our daily total up near the 10 mile range. What was intended as a short warmup hike was quickly turning into a real hike. Still, we were all feeling good.

The day was getting late, however, and we wanted to be out before dark. The next day would truly be a big day. We intended to hike at least 12 or 13 miles with some significant elevation gain, loss, and more gain. Oh, and all this while hauling 40 pound backpacks laden with our gear and food for the next few days. Yes, we needed a good night's rest.

We somewhat begrudgingly turned our steps back towards the truck. It had been a good day and I don't think it would have hurt our feelings to spend the night at this lovely lake. Little did we know that the daily adventure had some big surprises ahead back in camp that almost upended our entire trip...

October Newsletter From Trout Zone Anglers

2026-10-06T21:36:24.222-05:00

These days I don't write nearly as much as I would like. Some of this because I don't have time, and some of it is because the little time I do have goes to writing this monthly newsletter. If you haven't seen the latest newsletter from Trout Zone Anglers, you can find it at: https://mailchi.mp/15871de4b24c/news-from-trout-zone-anglers-october-2026

I'll be back again soon with more on my Wyoming trip. In the meantime, enjoy the newsletter!

Wyoming Return: The Beginning

2026-09-30T21:47:41.791-05:00

Ever since my last trip to fly fish in Wyoming's Wind River Range, I've been intending to return. The spectacular scenery of the Winds is enough to draw me back, but the fantastic fishing is icing on the cake. Since we discovered some special additional places to fish on that last trip, the plan for the next visit was to return to several of those places and also to push into some new areas of the backcountry.

READ: The Wyoming Saga: A Bonus Fly Fishing the North Platte River

Planning the Next Wyoming Wind River Range Fly Fishing Trip

On my first trip into the Wyoming backcountry, we stuck to a fairly easy route. The distance wasn't too bad, and the fishing was incredible. My long term goals for the Wind Rivers involve some serious off trail hiking, so the goal for this particular trip was to get in some more mileage and become more comfortable with navigating in this incredible mountain range. We settled on approximately doubling our distance for the hike in from our previous trip. This would put us into an area with multiple golden trout lakes and possibly even some stream fish.

Planning the trip was a process, but having been in the area before made things easy. We wanted to return to the North Platte, do the backpacking portion in the Wind River Range, and of course enjoy the Green River above Pinedale yet again. The trip took on a new dimension when my buddy Elam, the fly fishing manager at Blackberry Farm, agreed to join. My friend John was in, of course, having been the one who got me out to the Winds in the first place. For Elam, however, this would be the first trip out west to fish. I knew that he was going to get ruined and join the ranks of us who spend lots of our spare time planning the next adventure.

Lightening My Load

During the run up to our trip, I contemplated several adjustments to lighten the load in my backpack. First and foremost was eliminating my heavy camera setup. While I enjoyed the flexibility that a big camera offers when taking pictures, I really didn't want to lug that whole thing up there. My old cellphone was really struggling, so an upgrade there allowed me the flexibility with my pictures that I wanted while lightning in the overall load.

Planning For Food

Food is always an important part of any trip. As I've gotten older, I've streamlined my diet significantly. The only time I spend serious time cooking in the outdoors nowadays are when I'm taking my family camping. I want my kids to get the total experience of camp cooking and enjoying some of the culinary delights it produces, but otherwise I don't need much. This philosophy led to eating the same meals over and over. Some of them could have been lighter, but I knew I wouldn't be short on calories.

My breakfasts would be an excellent granola. Love Crunch Peanut Butter and Chocolate is insanely good and one of the few things I eat that has sugar in it. I've mostly eliminated sweet treats entirely, but this granola is just too good to skip. I add extra peanuts for the extra protein. My family and I generally use oat or almond milk, so I found an oat milk powder that I could add to the granola ahead of time and prepackaged each serving in sandwich bags. All I needed to do was add water in the morning and enjoy.

Lunch would be my favorite camping/backpacking lunch which is bagels (I like cinnamon raisin) and peanut butter. I use individual serving packets of Justin's peanut butter. I also tossed in a few raspberry and blueberry fig bars.

Finally, supper would be a mix of two things: backpacker dinners for a couple of nights because I had some that were expiring soon and Andrew Skurka's beans and rice. This is a variation on a popular backpacker dinner that would soon become one of my all time favorites AND end up as my primary evening meal for backpacking trips moving forward. More on that over the next few installments of the Wyoming Return.

Planning For Fly Fishing in Wyoming

The fishing was obviously the main driver of our trip. As I already mentioned, I would backpack in the Wind River mountains even without the draw of fishing because of the incredible scenery, but as enthusiastic fly anglers and fly fishing guides, we planned our trip around the good fishing to be had in Wyoming.

Our last trip ended with a surprising 24 hours on the North Platte, and we decided to start this next trip there. Starting in January of this year, Wyoming Game and Fish enacted new regs on the North Platte requiring barbless hooks. This covers water from the Miracle Mile downstream, so I decided to start tying. I ordered lots of barbless hooks from Fulling Mile and Firehole Outdoors. While pinching the barb on regular hooks is certainly fine for compliance purposes, I strongly believe that specialty barbless hooks hold fish much better with their longer and curved hook points. Thus, I set out building a tailwater box from scratch.

I had tricos on my mind after our last trip, so in addition to nymphs, larva, pupa, and various midges, I also tied 3 dozen trico dries including both duns and spinners. I was pumped to be sight fishing tiny dries to large risers, and that excitement gave me energy through multiple late night tying sessions. I'm honestly getting too old to burn the candle on both ends of the day, but thoughts of giant trout dancing in my head kept me going. Up and out of my house between 5 and 5:30 am most days for work guiding, then tying late until 10:00 pm or later in the evenings, I was approaching the point where I needed this fishing trip just to rest up from my busy life.

For backpacking, I mostly just raided some already existing fly supplies and boxes to put together my boxes for the backcountry. These boxes are heavy on parachute Adams, a few chubby Chernobyls, scuds, and various nymphs and midges. A small fly puck of streamers rounded out my assortment. A 9' 5 weight original Orvis Helios was perfect both for the lightweight rod tube it came in and also because it was a powerful rod that would handle wind very well. If you had any doubt whether there is wind in the Winds, I can assure you that there is. I think there is wind in the entire state of Wyoming for that matter. When I can, I really prefer my 10' 3 weight rods, but didn't want to do anything foolish. The 9' 5 weight is ideal for a broad range of techniques and strategies and would handle just about anything I might want to throw. I could fish the 3 weight rods in our car camping portions of the trip.

Driving Out To Wyoming

After months and months of planning, the final days leading up to the trip felt like a blur. Working full time and trying to pack and prepare for a trip is a lot, so I had taken off the last work day before our departure date to do my final packing. This proved to be a wise choice as I spent the whole day preparing. Finally, on the morning of the trip, excitement pushed me up and out of my house by 5:30 am. I picked up my buddies Elam and then John, and we were off.

As with most road trips, the long drive definitely starts to wear on everyone, but the excitement of getting to Wyoming and starting fishing kept us mostly lighthearted on the drive out. Elam was enjoying watching the changing scenery, and I always enjoy watching the changing ecosystems as I cross the Great Plains. Eventually, we started spotting some pronghorn which is always the moment that I feel like I've really arrived out west. It seemed like the windmills had multiplied also, Every time I go out west, I think there are more than the last time I drove out there.

Stopping By The Ugly Bug

My buddy John had specifically wanted to make a stop at the Ugly Bug fly shop in Casper, Wyoming. Most good fly fishing trips start with a stop at the local fly shop, so I was glad to check it out even though I had enough equipment and flies to start our own fly shop. It ended up being a great stop! I found some Semperfli thread I had been looking for and not finding locally and even better found out that they would ship!

Unfortunately, our trip hit a bit of a snag starting at the Ugly Bug. John walked in and mentioned that he wanted flies for the North Platte. When John asked how it was, the guy gave a long pause and then said something about it being pretty warm. That was our warning. He said it was possible that things had cooled a little but to not expect too much. Upon leaving the fly shop, we filled up the gas tank again, and pointed the truck towards the North Platte. The plan was to camp near our fishing spot and hit it hard for a day or two.

When we got there, instead of going straight to the campground to snag a spot and setup camp, we headed to the water to see what the situation was. Unfortunately, the water was definitely too warm. 70 degrees is not conducive to good trout fishing. It was time to shift our plans and we hadn't even gotten started yet.

Staying Flexible

The truck turned west yet again and we decided it was time to hit the Winds. If we couldn't fish the North Platte, we would just jump straight into the main event. Who needs to acclimate? On the drive west, we encountered some epic storms. The radar was looking gnarly, and sure enough, we had some very strong winds, small hail, and insane lightning. As we got close to the mountains, the storm broke for a little while.

The trailhead for our backpacking portion of the trip had a USFS Campground and we snagged a nice campsite. There was plenty of room for all three of us to put up a tent. After some discussion, it was determined to go ahead and reserve it for two nights. We would do a warmup hike the next day without our heavy backpacking packs. That would help get us used to elevation and get our first fish caught, we hoped.

We didn't stay up late. More storms moved in and as lightning started to pepper the ridge just above camp, it seemed prudent to hunker down in our tents and hope for the best. I feel asleep that evening with the soft sound of raindrops on my rainfly. Our adventure had started...

September Newsletter From Trout Zone Anglers

2026-09-11T14:59:51.866-05:00

I've been away for a while on an epic fishing trip out west. I'll have a lot more on that coming up soon. Fresh blog posts are few and far between these days, but this one should keep me busy for at least a month or two of writing. In the meantime, feel free to check out the most recent newsletter from my guide service, Trout Zone Anglers. Click the link below to visit the newsletter. Thanks!

September 2026 Trout Zone Anglers Newsletter

Benefits of Friends

2026-07-30T18:33:11.432-05:00

Nowadays, most of my fishing trips are carefully planned, sometimes months in advance. Being self employed has some definite perks, such as being able to be off whenever I want to. Of course, the downside is that I have to plan those days before I book a bunch of people to fish with me. So it was that my good friend Chase and I planned a day of smallmouth fishing here on the Cumberland Plateau weeks (or was it months?) ago. Fast forward several weeks and the big day finally arrived. In the interim, I had twisted the arm of the Trout Zone Anglers resident smallmouth guru, Chris Bean, to join us. The pieces were in place for a great time fishing with some good buddies.

We picked the stream, and when I say we, it was mostly my call. These guys were gracious enough to join me on some of my favorite Plateau water, and I was dying to hit one of my all time favorites. It has produced some of the best fish and better consistent size in all my time fishing these creeks. I was hoping that it would show out nicely for my friends.

When we arrived at the access point, there were a couple of vehicles there already. That wasn't a big surprise as there is almost always someone around swimming or otherwise recreating. What we didn't count on is that they might be fishing also. Sure enough, as we hiked down to my favorite spot, they were right in the spot that I almost always started fishing. We worked further down and eventually found a spot to get in. Before long, they came down and dropped RIGHT below us, cutting off any further progress we could make downstream when they camped on a hole. This water doesn't lend itself well to camping in one spot, but these guys were going to block our progress, so I wasn't sure what we should do.

Interestingly, when I fish this location, I always fish downstream. Not sure why, that is just how I've always done it. I definitely don't fish that way on trout water for the most part. Some of that might be because of the large amount of flat water just upstream from the access point. I don't like wading super long flat deep pools if I can avoid it. There are just enough critters in the stream side brush that I don't want to be forced out of the stream bed once I've accessed the water.

Before we had even hiked down at all, I had mentioned this to my friends and also casually mentioned that we could fish upstream if they wanted to. Once the other anglers forced our hand, we had two options. Fish new to me water upstream, or bail to an entirely different drainage. Either option was feasible, but one had definite preference points for more fishing and less time burning gas. My buddies helped make the call to fish upstream.

I'm getting to the point in my fishing where I'm not as likely to take in super rugged new water on my own. I have too many people relying on me these days to do something foolish, and that is the benefit of friends. Sometimes they give you just enough of a push to get you moving in a new direction. Of course, I felt better doing this trip with others along. If things went sideways there were at least multiple people around to help.

Based on the map with satellite view, there would be some more excellent wading water upstream a ways. While we weren't sure exactly how far that would end up being, we started working that direction. Thankfully, progress was steady and soon we were getting out of the super deep stuff. Even though the water was still somewhat flat, the bottom was not too deep and featured primarily a hard bedrock bottom.

The first place we got in produced the highlight of the day. We had all spread out, fishing our preferred way, with my buddy Chase getting the most action on a hellgrammite or crawdad or some type of weighted fly. I was stubborn and hanging in there with a popper. I had gotten a couple of smaller fish in the spot downstream, and really just wanted to fish a popper if I could. Chris was fishing a little more actively. He enjoys streamer fishing and has been whacking smallmouth all summer with clients that way. It didn't take long before he hooked up with a fish that was bending the 8 weight rod tremendously.

I was the furthest from the scene of action, but Chase got there quickly with a net. Between the two of them, they made the whole process of netting the gorgeous fish a very smooth one. It almost looked like they were professionals which of course they are. Chase was very active in the competition scene for a while and of course Chris is one of the better guides in east Tennessee.

That fish was the pinnacle of our day, although we kept plying ahead upstream for a while. We all found a few more fish. Eventually, however, the day was getting hotter and hotter, and I needed to make it back home at a reasonable hour. When progress upstream became difficult due to how rugged the terrain was, it became clear that we had reached the end of our adventures more or less.

On our hike out, Chris was harvesting some of the chanterelles that we had seen everywhere. Chase and I were ambling ahead when I finally spotted it. The whole day I had kept my eyes peeled, because it wouldn't be a smallmouth trip on the Plateau without seeing at least one poisonous snake. This one was close enough to the trail that you better be paying attention. And just like that, I was again reminded why I don't do these crazy adventures solo much anymore. Days like this make me appreciate my friends even more...

Losing Flies

2026-06-03T09:30:00.000-05:00

As a fly fishing guide, I lose flies all the time. Of course, I try to limit the damage as much as possible, but if nothing else, big fish break us off from time to time. Maybe, more accurately, my clients lose flies all of the time. I don't fish as much as I used to. That's not because I don't like to fish, I'm simply too busy to fish very frequently. In general, losing flies is just part of it. That said, there is one scenario that I try very hard to get my flies back.

In the Smokies and more rarely our tailwaters, the trees catch their fair share of flies. When possible, I always try and get my flies back and will go to great lengths to do so. Unfortunately, birds or bats will often mistake flies hanging from trees for the real thing. The result is tragic.

Not long ago, Chris Bean who is one of my other guides sent me a picture. It was the very thing I've been telling people about for years now.

Just days after he sent me that picture, I was on a guide trip when I found a tree branch full of flies. The crazy thing was how accessible they were. It didn't take me any effort to go get the flies. If you are scared to wade in the stream, then get a wading staff. It isn't that hard to retrieve most flies. If you need more assistance, here is a quick tip to get them back easily.

I always carry a variety of tippet sizes with me. A spool of 0x and a heavy 1/8 ounce jig work wonders. Simply cut off a length of 0x, tie on the heavy jig, and toss it around the branch you lost your flies on. The heavy material won't break like your 5x will when pulling the branch down, and you can get most of your flies back this way. I always joke that you can pull a whole tree down with 0x, and while that is probably a little extreme, the point is that it won't break easily. Only do it with branches that are reasonable to pull down, however, or else you'll have lost two flies instead of one.

Try to get those flies back, at least when they are on trees.

Famous Bridges

2026-05-30T22:38:12.211-05:00

Whether trout actually like bridges or whether they just happen to provide the perfect vantage point to spot fish is debatable, but either way, there are many famous bridges in fly fishing. One of my all time favorites and probably one of the more famous is the well known $3 Bridge on the Madison River in Montana. Another highly recognizable bridge I've been fortunate enough to catch fish below is on the White River in Cotter, Arkansas. Many fly anglers can glance at these scenes and know exactly where they are.

When I started fly fishing, most of my fly fishing information came in the form of books, magazines, and VHS videos. Fly Fisherman magazine was one of my favorite moments each month. When it came in the mail, I would find a comfy chair and settle in for a long reading session. In my later years, I've made it a point to visit some of the more recognizable or famous places I still remember from reading those magazines. Back then, you had to go a little out of your way to learn about these places, at least to the extend that you had to spend some money to buy a magazine or book, then had to take the time to read the thing in its entirety. Now, things are just a little more accessible.

Just for kicks and giggles, I asked Google's Gemini AI what some famous or well known bridges in fly fishing were. Interestingly enough, it came up with some very solid answers and did so in mere seconds. I won't repeat them here, but do the experiment yourself if you have time. Now all of that information is at our fingertips. I was talking to my good friend and fellow guide Rob Fightmaster the other day, and we were commiserating about how the Internet has ruined fly fishing. There was a time when you had to drive to a stream or trailhead, and then fish (or hike and then fish) a stream to know if it was worth the time of day or not. Now, some of our favorite small streams are absolutely covered in anglers. There are lots of people who want to enjoy the fruits of fly fishing, but don't want to put in the effort and miles on their boots. With modern technology (like a certain well known app), all of that is easily accessed.

As a fly fishing guide, I'm not too worried about job security. Getting to a high quality trout stream is easier than ever with all of the information out there, but catching fish still takes some old fashioned know how. Just lately, we've had a ton of last minute calls from people vacationing in the Smokies and fly fishing for several days with minimal to no success. For the lucky few we were able to squeeze into our guide calendar, they quickly learned how to catch fish up here. For the rest, we had to respond with a "sorry but we're booked, holler back next time."

That said, it is a fair question to ask myself: how much information is appropriate to share online? For the last few years of guiding, I've found myself being more and more careful about how I frame pictures with clients, especially if I (or they) will be using the picture on social media. Once, when I had a client catch a giant brown trout, we told the creel clerk about it when he asked about our day. For the next week or so, the area of river we had caught that fish had numerous spin anglers trying and trying to catch that big fish. It doesn't take long for news to get out in the fishing world, and not everyone has my same set of ethics. And that takes us back to the bridges.

If I had a dollar for every picture I've taken of clients with very recognizable bridges in the background, I would be rich. Well, maybe not exactly, but you get the idea. Here in my neck of the woods, some bridges are more well known than others. For example, the highway 61 bridge in Clinton, TN over the Clinch River is super recognizable if you've ever been there. Same thing with the I-75 bridge over the Clinch and the five I-40 bridges over the Caney Fork. In the Smokies, there are several recognizable bridges over various streams including Little River. Some are road bridges and some are trail bridges. Some of the trail bridges in the Smokies are even more recognizable than the road bridges are.

For some reason, I am drawn to scenes with bridges in them. The contrast of the rugged wilderness with the engineered imprint of man is striking, and I often find myself snapping pictures of bridges regardless of whether I have an angler in the picture of not. Sharing them is more of a challenge, as I'm always torn between sharing the incredible scenery and the risk of hot spotting. Not that there are really any secrets anymore, but I don't want to be the guy that adds even a little extra pressure on my favorite streams. That holds true regardless of whether they are in my backyard or are on the other side of the country.

So, for the time being, I'll mostly avoid sharing recognizable views of the waters I fish. To know the spots I'm fishing, you would generally need to already be very familiar with the water to figure it out from my pictures. That's the way it should be. We need to get back to anglers putting in the time and earning their knowledge. If you've already earned it, my sharing a picture isn't going to change you fishing there or not.

Recently, the Bassmaster Classic was held in Knoxville, TN. Video clips made their way around social media throughout the event and shortly after, featuring anglers vying for the big money. One of the things I noticed about the winner was that he was staring at a screen. I've done just enough research to know that live scope is a major hot topic in the tournament bass world (and fishing world more broadly). That said, for me personally, if I want to play video games, I'll stay home. I get out to enjoy nature and am always interested in ways to make the game harder, not easier. Sure, if I was pursuing the big purse in a major tournament, I might look at things differently, but there is a reason I'm not a tournament bass fisherman.

Instead, I'll keep pouring over maps for hours in far flung destinations, searching for what may just be the best fishing hole I've ever fished. I won't know unless I go try it out for myself, regardless of how much research I do ahead of time. After all, for me, the searching is as much the draw as what I find there. While I'm off looking at maps, here are a few local bridges that just might be recognizable to an angler. How many of them do you recognize?

Short Rods

2026-05-16T21:49:44.663-05:00

Enough has been written and argued about the best fly rods for the Smokies that I won't rehash everything here. My opinions on the subject are well documented, so check out that link for an old blog post if you're interested. For this post, I'm going to head in a different direction. While not exactly advocating for short rods, I am going to talk about how much fun they can be.

I've had a 6' 3 weight Redington Butterstick for a while now. It has produced some very memorable fishing experiences over the last few years. With time, it is becoming a rod I reach for more often than not. While not the effective tool for high sticking that a long rod is, it is a rod that pushes my skillset in positive ways and helps me to become a better fly angler. Having a ton of fun along the way is just a bonus, but it never hurts to fish a rod that doubles up on a nice mountain trout. The only downside to this slower rod is that some hook sets are missed due to not getting tight on the fish fast enough. A quicker rod fixes that problem, but isn't as much fun after you've hooked the fish and quite frankly isn't as fun to cast either. That probably is one of the main drivers of my long time affection for old Orvis Superfine rods (not the new ones with the ugly "label" above the handle).

Recently, we took a short family camping trip to the Smokies. These trips are all about getting the kids outside and enjoying camping, with any fishing fairly limited. I still try to sneak in 30 minutes or an hour here and there if I'm able to. We spent most of our time enjoying Cades Cove, looking at bears, roasting marshmallows for S'mores and all the other things that make camping fun. I did manage a quick session just after lunch one day and just before lunch another day.

One of the best parts of these excursions was taking my little ones and showing them some wild trout. They are still young enough that they won't stick to fishing for very long. Instead, splashing in the creek and getting completely soaked and dirty was more fun, but that's okay. They'll get around to fishing more seriously eventually if they decide it is something they want to do in life. The Butterstick turned out to be the perfect rod for my Little One to enjoy as well. Being small and relatively light was helpful. The price point was also good enough that I didn't mind if it got scratched or otherwise beat up a little. The slower action made it easy for a kid to feel the casting rhythm as well.

I kept things simple with a single dry fly for most of my (and the kids) fishing. The short rod is phenomenal for casting under and around structure and obstacles on smaller water. The trick is casting across many conflicting currents and getting the correct drift via timely mends and other line management tricks and tactics. Fish were willing, and one of the obvious advantages of the shorter rod was simple: it made me stay back further from my target and attempt things I wouldn't try if I was simply high sticking. Fish weren't getting spooked from me approaching too closely. Eats were frequent, but the downside was also obvious. The fiberglass rod flexed so far down the blank that I missed quite a few fish in addition to the ones I landed.

After seeing so many bears in Cades Cove, I was a little on edge. As I was fishing up a section with more rhododendron than most, I was stopped in my tracks by heavy rustling in the bushes. I finally spotted a deer in heavy shadows that soon spooked and disappeared, but my heart didn't stop racing until I got back to casting. The relaxing pace of the fiberglass rod was the perfect way to destress from almost being eaten by a bear, or deer in this case.

In addition to plenty of willing wild rainbow trout, I found another native gem as well. While I'm not out there trying to catch them, the warpaint shiners always make their presence known in the summer. If they grew as large as trout, I'm convinced they would be a prime game fish due to their willingness to rise to a dry fly. As it is, they are just an annoyance when the water warms up too much.

If you haven't fished short rods much, do yourself a favor and find one to try out. They aren't always the most effective fishing tool, but they might just be the most fun.

May 2026 Newsletter from Trout Zone Anglers

2026-05-12T22:06:00.000-05:00

Check out the latest newsletter from Trout Zone Anglers at: https://mailchi.mp/e51ac9952e98/news-from-trout-zone-anglers-may-2026

Our open dates are filling quickly, so just reach out for updated availability if you are interested in a guided trip. We specialize in fly fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, on area tailwaters such as the Caney Fork, Clinch, Holston, and Obey, and on area carp, musky, and smallmouth bass waters. As a long time educator, I enjoy teaching the sport. From working with beginners to experts, I feel confident that I can help improve your fly fishing game.

Fishing Ultralight

2026-04-30T21:36:00.003-05:00

Chasing big trout often involves throwing meat. Big flies, sinking lines, you know the drill. Here in Tennessee, our winter shad kill season provides some of the most exciting fly fishing of the entire year. Big trout gorging on large chunks of protein drifting down the river are even more fun than you can imagine as long as you overlook the often freezing temperatures that produce the best shad kills.

As a fly fishing guide, I look forward to the winter shad kill season for both personal fishing and for guiding. While we catch big fish year round, the winter shad kill season provides some of the ~~best~~ easiest opportunities of the year to catch a great big trout. For those of my clients already in the know, booking their winter fishing is an important part of their yearly fishing. On one of the best trips this past winter, for example, one angler landed 7 brown trout ranging from 18 to 21.5". That is the type of day most of us dream about, but the shad kill makes it attainable for most anglers. Having a good Caney Fork guide helps a lot also of course, but I may be biased.

Anyway, one of my friends/clients had booked a series of guided trips starting in early spring and going through prime fishing season. The idea was to sample a little of everything as many of our clients do. When the day of the first trip approached, I had just experienced the previously mentioned day of catching LOTS of quality browns, so it was an easy decision. We would go to the Caney Fork.

One of the big advantages of being on the water every day is that you see things. If you are paying attention, you'll catch a LOT more fish than if you aren't on the water very often. Thus, the next day, I had a plan of spots I wanted to hit extra hard. As we drifted down the river, I slid the boat into position near a downed tree. For the last couple of weeks prior to this trip, I had seen a huge fish busting shad from time to time. I was hoping John would get a chance. Sure enough, as he drifted through the spot after a perfect cast, the indicator shot down and he came tight to something BIG.

Of course, the first thing the fish did was to run hard upstream towards the tree. I quickly got John to put side pressure downstream on the fish to get it turned, and by some miracle it came out of the wood. Unfortunately, we weren't out danger yet. The fish then dove straight down and nothing John did could slow it down. Suddenly, the line stopped, heavy but unmoving. My concerns were being realized. The fish had taken the bottom fly and the top fly was impaled on a piece of wood somewhere below in the swirling currents. Rowing circles around submerged wood that is between 8-10 feet below on two generators of flow was fun, but I kept at it hoping that the fish would come out and we would still be tight. Alas, it was not meant to be. After trying several angles to get the flies unstuck, I finally instructed John to break it off on purpose. We were both seriously bummed.

The rest of that week I was worried sick. I just knew that a giant brown trout was somehow tethered to the bottom, drowning and unable to throw the fly. As the week came to a close, I had one trip that let me drift past that spot on one generator. Unfortunately, that was still far too much water, and I never saw the wood much less our flies.

The following week, I had two unusual occurrences. First, I was running a very rare Sunday trip. For lots of reasons, my guide service doesn't do weekend trips, but about once or twice a year I make an exception and take someone fishing on a Sunday. Phill had been booked with us last September before health issue crept up that forced him to postpone a long anticipated adventure that included the White River in Arkansas and the Caney Fork River in Tennessee. The second unusual occurrence was that I was guiding a spin angler. As a fly fishing guide first and foremost, it is relatively uncommon for me to run spinning trips. Last year, I ended up running several spin trips, probably more in one year than I had ever run in my entire guide career up until that point. I enjoy spin fishing as it is something different, and I'm very pick with how it is done. It is a nice change of pace although you might not guess I think that when I try to convince you to fly fish instead of using a spinning rod.

Upon booking Phill for a guided trip, as a first time client, we had a long conversation about my requirements to spin fish. Absolutely no live bait and single hook artificial lures only are mandatory if you are fishing with me. Being able to fish effectively with those requirements takes more knowledge, experience, and skill than most think. In fact, I would argue that it takes at least as much skill to effectively fish ultralight gear than it does to fly fish in most generic settings such as drowning nymphs under a strike indicator.

As it turns out, Phill was a very accomplished angler when it came to fishing ultralight gear. He had even fished with a fly rod for a good while at one point in life, but just decided he liked ultralight tackle best. Thus it was that we decided to fish some White River jigs on high flows on Sunday. Our trip went well with several quality fish coming to hand. They topped out a touch over 19 inches which incidentally was about the same size as the largest trout he had caught on the White River in Arkansas. There is a reason the Caney Fork has a reputation for big brown trout.

Unfortunately, when I checked the generation schedule, the next morning featured low water. Knowing how much Phill had been enjoying fishing jigs, I was hesitant to even mention what we would be facing. However, upon telling him what it would mean, he actually got excited. "My arm is getting tired fishing these jigs. Let's just fish Trout Magnets," he said. That worked out great for me. I fish Trout Magnets with most of my spin clients and they always catch fish

The next morning, we got just enough water to make a good long drift about two miles down the river fishing jigs, but then it was time to motor back up and change gears. After we got back up and started fishing the falling water, it took a few minutes to get things going. We kept working on the depth and eventually the bites started coming. Then fish started hitting the net one after another. Rainbows, browns, more rainbows, more browns. The Trout Magnet never disappoints.

Phill fishes Trout Magnets back home and wanted to use a specific color that worked well for brown trout in his experience. We were drifting well down the river at this point when I discovered that we were approaching the downed tree and wood pile where John had lost the big brown the week prior. I quickly explained the situation to Phill who graciously said he didn't mind if I took a little of his time to check the brush pile. Sure enough, upon rowing over there, I could see one of my flies stuck tightly to the wood. I tried poking it free with the oar, but it was simply too deep to do much. This was a project that would have to wait for another day. Just as I was about to move the boat back out, I heard Phill say, "I got one!"

Looking up, I saw his ultralight spinning rod doubled up. Obviously a big fish, I quickly started instructing him to apply side pressure in a speech that gave me a strange sense of deja vu because of the spot we were fishing. Moving the boat quickly out into the main river, we got lucky when the large trout turned towards the middle of the river and away from the obstructions. Meanwhile, Phill was telling me about the 2 lb test line he was fishing and at some point mentioned that his hook was also barbless. At that, I about freaked out but somehow managed to keep that concern under wraps enough to not affect his focus.

Suddenly, as the big fish turned near the surface and we got our first good look, a saw a flash on its side. Surely not, I thought. As the huge brown got closer and closer, my amazement grew. When the brown trout hit the net, I started whooping and hollering. This was the big brown that John had lost the last week. The fly we had hooked it on was stuck firmly in the trophy brown trout's flank. That explained why we couldn't turn it. Somehow, the fish had hit our fly but the hook didn't stick it in the mouth. Deep nymphing will result in some funny things. The fish had somehow broke off from the other fly (which I had just found wedged in the wood) and had been going about its business as usual for the last week with my fly along for the ride.

Pulling the fly out, I quickly put it on a drying patch. That fly might have to be framed. The story on the fly and the fish was just too good. Once pictures were taken, we sat there in disbelief. Me because this fish I had encountered twice in a one week period was okay and swam away strong. I could now rest easy. Phill because the big brown trout he had just gone to the White River to catch actually came out of the Caney Fork River in Tennessee instead.

I knew that John was fishing with guide Pat Tully that day, so we called and told them the story so both could enjoy it. This was by far one of the better fish stories I've been a part of. The fun thing about guiding is that you get to make stories and memories for and with people every day, but this one sure took the cake. On that day, I discovered that there is a whole new level of fishing ultralight than I was used to. Phill was truly great with that gear, and I learned a lot just watching him do his thing. Now, Phill is in the lead for my annual "Guide Trip Fish of the Year" contest. You can learn more about that contest if you are a subscriber to the Trout Zone Anglers email newsletter.

If you want to catch big brown trout on the Caney Fork, feel free to reach out to me for either fly fishing trips or spin fishing trips. I enjoy doing both. I'll always try to tal`k you into fly gear, but if you ask enough times, I'll eventually relent and let you spin fish as well if you follow my guidelines. Trips are always catch and release, no exception.

Floating the Holston River Below Cherokee Dam

2026-03-29T20:52:00.005-05:00

My free time is fairly limited these days. Having a full time job as a fly fishing job doesn't equate to more fishing time, at least not for me. As a result, it is more special than ever when I can get on the water and wet a line for myself. Last Friday, I was fortunate to have the day off due to a cancellation and my buddy and fellow guide Chris Bean was also available. Last year, I got to float the Holston for the first time with him and last week we decided to go for round two. Chris Bean guides the Holston River below Cherokee Dam regularly for both trout and smallmouth, so I was essentially getting the treat of a guided experience.

We put it for a new to me section of river and quickly pushed down from the boat ramp to a series of shoals that looked very fishy. Sure enough. I was throwing streamers and got my first solid hit just above the first shoal. A chunky rainbow came quickly to the net and we were off to the next one.

For probably an hour, I absolutely hammered fish. Chris definitely knew the river well. He kept me positioned well as we approached each riffle and bucket and pointed out the spots that would likely hold fish. I don't have much desire to guide this river (too long of a drive from home), but I was realizing yet again why Chris loves this river so much. The fish were all turbocharged and fought above their weight class. Eventually, however, I found one that matched how it fought.

We were drifting through yet another riffle when Chris pointed out a nice run on the other side of the boat. I quickly repositioned and got a drift set up. The indicator did a little dance and when I set the hook, chaos exploded on the other end. This fish was doing its best to get away. Another riffle just below us beckoned but low side pressure turned it before it could get into the fast water. Eventually I slid the big rainbow into the net. I don't take a ton of pictures anymore, but immediately asked Chris if he had a camera handy. This was my personal largest on the Holston River at 20.5" (and on only my second float) and needed documentation. It sure helps to have a guide to fish with. I was finding fish quickly thanks to the expertise of Chris.

At some point, I started to feel a little selfish and relinquished the front of the boat to Chris. He suggested which lines I should take and started catching some for himself. Eventually, we transitioned to a dry/dropper instead of the nymph rig and that is when we really had a blast. Fish were rising to a solid midge hatch, and a good cast into rising fish would almost always get an eat on the midge. We were catching so many fish it was embarrassing at times.

Of course, that calls for experimentation. We figured out what they would eat, so it was time to figure out what they wouldn't eat. As it turns out, pretty much everything worked until the very end of the trip.

A bald eagle flew over the river and midway across spooked a large pod of fish. We both had the same thought: carp. Rowing over, I got my first glimpse of one fish after another and got excited until I realized the carp were mostly missing from this school. These were primarily buffalo which aren't nearly as easy a target (in my experience) as carp are. The one or two carp I spotted were soon spooked, and we finally packed it in to get home before our wives got worried.

It had been a highly successful day of fishing. The Holston River will just fish better and better over the next few weeks, so if you are interested in trying it out, just reach out and we'll get you scheduled to fish with Chris.

Hidden Hikes

2026-03-10T17:51:00.001-05:00

Some of my favorite hiking here on the Cumberland Plateau is that way because of the lack of other people. Having a famous national park not too far away is a good way to keep people away from less desirable destinations. Of course, there are lots of places in the Smokies to get away from crowds as well, but even on the best days you'll generally see at least a few other hikers.

Here on the Plateau, it is still possible to hike all day and not see another soul. To be fair, it is becoming more and more rare, but it still happens. This past winter, I even pulled that feat off on one of my favorite hikes, Virgin Falls. That is truly becoming a difficult proposition, but it still happens from time to time. Other lesser known trails and hikes are more likely to provide that treat.

Of course, to keep them that way, I can't really talk about where they are or provide too many details. A bit of sleuthing might even help you find some of my favorites even if I don't name them now. That said, a recent trip was more of a treat than usual for reasons beyond the lack of other hikers.

I did something I don't do nearly as often as I ought to: I carried my big DSLR and a couple of lenses. Turns out I really just needed one lens for the things I took pictures of, but it was nice to have options. What makes this hike go from special to magnificent is a little off trail jaunt that brings the hiker to incredible pools of spring water. These off trail jaunts are a lot of fun this time of year and often yield spectacular wildflowers as well. On this trip, the flowers were just barely getting going, so we enjoyed what we could and focused on other scenery.

In the end, I took several favorite pictures but one stood out more than the rest. I'll share all of them below, culminating in that favorite shot. I hope you enjoy!

February Newsletter from Trout Zone Anglers

2026-02-02T18:50:00.003-06:00

If you do not receive my guide businesses email newsletter but are interested in reading, here is a link to our current newsletter for February 2026. Please share this newsletter with your fishing friends and feel free to subscribe via the button on the newsletter (either top or bottom of the newsletter page depending on your platform). Thanks for reading!

https://mailchi.mp/38fdef6ed46c/news-from-trout-zone-anglers-february-2026

Dry Flies In January

2026-01-15T14:40:00.002-06:00

While every year is different, most winters allow some good fishing opportunities in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Timing is everything, but those trout still need to eat. Even on days with very cold water temperatures, at least a few fish can be found. If we get a mid winter warm up, then the fishing can be truly special.

Last week, I hosted my other guides for a Trout Zone Anglers guide get together to debrief from 2025. It involved some fishing time as well, which ended up being perfect as far as timing is concerned. It just so happened to coincide with one of those winter warm spells that makes the birds think spring has arrived. With the sounds of spring, we went hunting wild trout in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I expected to see a few midges and winter stoneflies, but was pleasantly surprised to find little black caddis also hatching. Once that hatch gets started, quill gordon and blue quill activity is not far behind.

We strung up one of my favorites, a 1 weight old Orvis Superfine from when they still made rods that looked cool. It is well documented on this blog how I love those old Superfines, and I was excited to let my guides have a go at it as well.

It didn't take long for them to discover the downside to these rods. The soft action and full flex makes setting the hook tough on fast little wild trout. Still, everyone quickly got the hang of it and soon we were catching fish on a variety of small dry flies and midge patterns. The fish were clearly hungry and their metabolisms were starting to hum right along in the warming water. Just a few days later, that water temperature would crash and put a long pause on the bug activity, but for the moment, the fish were feeding just like it was spring.

My favorite fish of the morning happened in one of the better pools. I expected a fish in this hole faster than it ended up happening, but it did eventually happen. The small parachute Adams combined with a Zebra midge was proving deadly. You had to really pay attention to see the little dry fly on the water, but the fish didn't seem to have any problems finding it. Even more found the tiny midge in the fast currents of a Smoky Mountain stream.

We fished for a couple of hours, talking fishing, business, guiding, and just enjoying the day. The air got warmer and warmer and the bugs and fish were really going strong. I almost regretted stopping for lunch, but the plan was to head over to the Peaceful Side Social in Townsend, and there was no way I was missing out on that. I like pizza more than I should, and they have an excellent Margherita pizza that I try to enjoy a handful of times each year. Over lunch, we discussed areas we could improve as guides and also improve our overall business operations. Once that meeting ended, however, I had a little time left to kill and wanted to fish some more. So, back out I went.

I just kept fishing the same rod from the morning session. The only change I might have made was to switch from a 7' 6" 1 weight rod to a 6' 6" 2 weight, so it wasn't worth the hassle of breaking one rod down and assembling another. I decided to hit a section of water that I hadn't fished for maybe 20 years. Not that it isn't a good section, there are definitely fish in there, I just hadn't fished it for a long time.

The afternoon section was a little tougher, and it wasn't until I noticed a few wet spots on rocks that I realized someone else had already fished the section. Not to be deterred, I decided to stick it out as my time was starting to run out. In the end, I caught a few fish, enough to keep me interested, and enjoyed some water I rarely fish.

My best fish in the afternoon hit the dry fly so hard it almost made me jump. I had worked through an obvious big deep beautiful pool without much action. This was about the time I was realizing I was on used water. Then, fishing the head, I tossed my rig into some fast water. As soon as the dry fly hit the pillow in front of a rock, this rainbow rocketed out of the depths to eat it.

After releasing the pretty little rainbow, I was reminded of an important point on releasing fish in the Smokies. Fish will often crawl under a rock and feel sorry for themselves a while after being caught. I don't know why they do this, but this is very common behavior for the wild trout in our mountain streams and even with our native brook trout. The lesson to take here is that fish will often mistake your wading boots for a nice safe rock and crawl under them. I can't count the number of times I feel a fish immediately burrow under my boot when standing in a stream after I release them. This is an easy moment to severely injure or kill fish, but the solution is also fairly simple. First, pay close attention to where the fish goes after you release it. With luck, it will jet out into the stream and avoid problems in the first place, However, if it crawls under a rock or you don't actually know where it went, be VERY careful backing out of the spot to not accidentally crush the fish. I'll try to make one single step out onto dry rocks if at all possible. Don't step into loose leaf piles (another favorite hiding spot) and don't step onto rocks with obvious hiding spots under them.

Over the last few years, I've been trying to do more things out of the ordinary. That generally means fishing places I don't fish all that often. That could be sections of river I don't hit very often, or it could be fishing new streams all together. On this particular day, it was hitting a piece of water I hadn't fished in a long time. Moving forward, as I head into the late winter and early spring, it will hopefully take me to some more pieces of water that are new or at least rarely visited.

January Newsletter from Trout Zone Anglers

2026-01-07T14:41:00.001-06:00

If you've been waiting for the January newsletter, here it is. As a reminder, you can sign up over at www.troutzoneanglers.com and get this delivered to your inbox at the beginning of each month.

Trout Zone Anglers January 2026 Newsletter

Ruined

2025-12-30T14:36:00.000-06:00

There are certain things that will ruin you as an angler. Of course, by ruin I mean spoil you so thoroughly that you don't want to do anything else. Catching big fish can do this, of course. Finding the perfect rod or rods for a particular application can do this. Recently, a new to me old rod brought on this phenomena. Then, even more recently, a bamboo rod did the same.

It all started when my friend Chuck very generously offered me a bamboo rod. In fact, he offered me my choice between some different rods. After lots of casting, I surprised myself with the rod that fit me perfectly. It was an 8.5' Beasley rod for a 5 weight line. The rod has a lot of power. I enjoy casting, and really enjoy at least having the option of making long casts, and this rod can absolutely punch it out there. However, like most bamboo I've cast, it also has the ability to protect fine tippets, something that is important to me since I often fish 6x and small midges.

Of course, the final determination on any rod is actually catching fish on it. Thus it was that I found myself headed for the river with the boat behind my truck shortly after a gorgeous sunrise. My dad had agreed to join me on this trip which was a treat in itself. We hadn't fished together for years, so it was past time to get a trip on the water with him. The main goal of the trip was to get my dad out and catching a few fish. The bamboo rod was just an after thought. I figured I could anchor up and catch a few to see what I thought of the rod as a fishing tool. It had already been cast enough that I knew I liked how it cast.

We did things a little different on this trip. Since part of the trip was time with my dad, I picked him up at his house. Instead of running our own shuttle which is what we normally do on this water, I was planning to just use the motor to make a long run up the river and then float back down.

When we got to the takeout, the water was fairly high. Flows were up which would allow us to motor upstream through water that otherwise would be too shallow to navigate through with the boat and motor. After dumping the boat in the water and getting my dad situated in the front seat, I fired up the motor and we began a long run upstream. With my little 6 hp motor, it took us more than an hour but eventually we made it all the way up to the next boat ramp. Since it was cold out early, that wasn't all bad. It meant we could stay hunkered down in our warm jackets and let the sun warm things up a little more.

Once we started fishing, I gave my dad a quick refresher primer to get him catching fish quickly. It worked because he started catching fish right away!

Soon we were drifting back downstream on the falling water. The generators had cut off and the fish started feeding heavily. We caught a few and missed a few. Eventually, my dad hooked a fish and it was pulling hard enough that we couldn't just drag it in without risking a break off. I anchored on a shoal and coached him through the fight. Soon, the fish came to the net, but not before I noticed something just behind us, maybe 60 feet upstream. A nice fish had rose to a midge or something similar.

My dad was kind enough to quit fishing while I backed the boat up, anchored in position, and pulled out that beautiful bamboo rod. It was rigged with a Chubby Chernobyl with a Frenchie underneath maybe two and a half to three feet deep. I dropped the rig in just upstream of the active fish and kept adjusting my presentation through mends and line management. Eventually, a few casts later, I got the drift just right and the dry fly dipped as the fish ate the nymph.

The fish was an average stocker rainbow trout, maybe 11 inches in length. Nothing to write home about, but my first fish on this bamboo rod which was neat. We took a picture or two, but I was hustling to get the fish back in the water. You see, while I was fighting it, a big dark shadow chased that fish almost into the net. I'm not sure what the larger fish was planning, but it was very aggressive. I got a fairly good look and could tell it was a big rainbow trout. Of course, my first thought was to put the bamboo away and pull out a 6 weight and rig a streamer. In fact, I was very close to doing that before I had second thoughts. I had a very clear idea of where that fish had come from, and there really wasn't any reason it shouldn't eat the same nymph the first fish had eaten.

I lined up a cast, made a reach as the line fly on its way to the target, then added another mend or two into the drift. The second time I did the same thing, and the fly drifted aways before dipping convincingly. As soon as I set the hook, I knew I had hooked up with a rocket. The fish was powerful and surged this way and that before deciding that the best strategy was to head downstream as quickly as possible. I had put an old Orvis Battenkill reel on the bamboo rod and that reel was screaming. It probably needed some grease, and it didn't sound like it would survive the encounter. My heart sank as I watched the fly line disappearing and the backing start heading downriver as well.

At that point, I asked my dad for help. We needed to follow, and while he wasn't going to row us after the fish, he could certainly at least pull the anchor rope up for me. He kindly started pulling in the anchor and soon we were at least drifting down after the fish. A little downstream, we lowered the anchor back down as the fish came running back at us. Then, it made another hard run and we bumped down a little further again. Finally, after more runs than I could count, it finally got close to the boat and I told my dad exactly what was about to happen. I needed some help on the net and didn't want things to be ruined at this point.

When we got the fish in the boat, my dad took some pictures for me. This was certainly one of the most memorable fish of the year for me, a true fish of the year candidate even though it only taped out at a touch over 18". It was one of the strongest 18" fish I've ever encountered and a true treat on the bamboo rod. I firmly believe that I likely would have lost that fish on most other rods. The bamboo did an incredible job of protecting the fine tippet and by some miracle the fly held. I've noticed that some (but definitely not all) graphite rods are really bad to bounce or vibrate while fighting a fish, but the natural bamboo material was very quiet throughout the fight.

The rest of the float was anticlimactic. I was worn out. My arm was tired for a while. My dad fished a little more and caught a few more fish including one really nice one, but our day was definitely winding down. I even cast again when a sight fishing opportunity presented itself, catching another rainbow or two on a tiny midge. Still, nothing fishing wise would beat that big rainbow and the workout it gave me. I was now ruined and could envision myself collecting more bamboo rods than I know what to do with. I don't know if that will happen, but I do know that I'll be fishing that Beasley rod again...

Cold Hikes

2025-12-22T21:17:00.000-06:00

Winter is what I like to call "hiking season" because I can't stand the heat and humidity of the southeast. I'd rather be a little on the cool side of comfortable rather than too hot. There are days that push this preference to the limit, however.

Recently, I've been trying to both jog or run and also get as many hikes in as possible. That doesn't always mean I'm getting out a ton, but I'm doing what I can considering I have a full time job as a fly fishing guide and a family that needs plenty of my time as well. A big chunk of my motivation is simply staying in shape, but more specifically, I'm also having visions of backpacking trips to the Wind River range again in pursuit of golden trout. To enjoy a trip like that requires excellent conditioning. Unfortunately, I'm now entering the stage of life where I can't get into peak backpacking shape in 2-4 weeks of jogging.

Thus it was that I recently found myself trying to decide between a quick jog around the neighborhood or a hike up a nearby mountain. Both would work great for getting my heart rate elevated. The seriously cold air convinced me a hike was smarter. I find it difficult to jog when it is below freezing. Gasping subfreezing air is just not fun. Hiking is another story since I can vary my activity level just a little up or down to maintain my breathing.

The day before, we had enjoyed a family hike. This was a short walk, a little over 2 miles, and was perfect for everyone. I could carry our youngest in the kid carrier (effectively making my workout more intense which I need), while our oldest can walk the whole way so Mama doesn't have too hard a hike. We find some beautiful scenes, including a waterfall that had a lot more water in it than last time we had visited.

The next day, I was looking for more exercise, so I headed out with temperatures in the teens and falling. When I got to the trailhead and got out of my car, I briefly wondered what I had gotten myself into. The trail immediately ascends seemingly straight up the mountain. That helped initially, since it got my heart rate up and enough blood pumping to warm me up a little. Once the trail leveled out a little at the top of the first big rise, I knew this was going to be an interesting hike.

My chosen trail was a portion of the Cumberland Trail up Brady Mountain starting at the highway 68 trailhead. This particular trailhead isn't too far from home, so I can get there quickly. It also features significant (for my area) elevation that is great for someone specifically looking for a good cardio workout. That quick elevation gain gets you to the ridge line of Brady Mountain. On a cold post frontal day, that means a northwest breeze, or in the case of my particular day, gusty winds. Wind chills were almost certainly well down in the single digits and my face was quickly getting chilled. Holding my hands up to shield my face during the worst gusts helped, and I continued ascending the mountain.

I had seen a glimmer of white near the crest as I was driving to the trailhead. These mountains on the Cumberland Plateau (and also in the Smokies) will frequently get heavy rime ice buildup in the winter. I've enjoyed hiking in this magical scene once or twice, but it had been a while.

Sure enough, as I got close to the top for my hike which was a false summit that leads to one of the best overlooks you've ever seen, I started seeing ice buildup on the trees and bushes. It was far from the best I have ever seen, but not bad for a quick hike when I didn't have much in the way of expectations beyond just enjoying nature and getting fresh air.

The wind was intense until I hit the big flat on top. Once I got away from that western edge of the mountain, the wind relaxed significantly. In fact, it was so warm at the Brady Bluff overlook of Grassy Cove that I could have relaxed, ate lunch, and otherwise enjoyed my time. Alas, I hadn't brought lunch on this hike (it was a workout hike after all), so I sipped some water quickly, took a couple of very imperfect cellphone panoramas of the view, and headed back.

The wind was even worse if that is possible. Heading down the mountain, I was moving directly into the teeth of the raging wind. On the way up (heading south), I had been shielding the right side of my face. Now I shielded the right side of my face and started to jog. I was getting cold and needed both to warm up and also to get down in elevation and out of the wind. I had long since stopped kicking myself for forgetting my neck gaiter which is AWESOME in the wind. Originally purchased for skiing in Colorado where temps are often in the single digits, it has come in handy for cold weather fishing here in Tennessee and also cold weather hiking.

The jogging helped a little with warming me up, but the real trick for warming up was just getting down the hill in a hurry and into my nice warm car. Once I cranked the heat up, I was thankful that I had gotten up the mountain on such a blustery day. Scenes I got to enjoy are something most people will never get to see. Next time we get a good chance for rime ice, I'll be back up there looking again. Next time I'll have my neck gaiter and maybe an extra jacket just in case....

December Newsletter

2025-12-14T21:29:00.905-06:00

If you haven't received our latest newsletter or are not subscribed, here is a link to check it out. There are some fun goodies in this one including some good musky stuff.

https://mailchi.mp/27ebf2f34ccd/news-from-trout-zone-anglers-december-2025

Into the Wild Beyond: Day Three

2025-12-11T13:43:00.001-06:00

By the end of our fishing on day two of our big adventure, we had a decision to make. Continue to fish the stream that we had caught an inordinate number of fish on that day or go back to the stream that we had fished for an hour or two the first evening. Deciding where to fish can be a difficult decision, but it didn't take us long to decide to return to the first stream for a full day this time.

The next morning, we woke up and went about our morning routine. Mine included granola from Good to Go, which was quickly becoming a favorite. I'm into "healthy" whatever that means, and the granola was full of seeds, dried wild blueberries, and other goodies, making it power packed with nutrients. My usual backpacking breakfast was oatmeal, and this was a nice change of pace from that game plan.

Eventually, as with most mornings on a fishing trip, we both found ourselves moving faster and faster as we knocked out all of the small camp tasks and got ourselves ready for the fishing. Both of us wanted to get in a good long day of fishing with time to cover lots of ground. My goal for the day was simple: I just wanted to see some new-to-me water.

We headed quickly upstream, jumping past water that we had fished on our first evening in camp. It wasn't that we didn't think we could catch fish again in that section (we could have), but instead it was a deliberate effort towards our goal of covering as much water as possible. Having only made it a short distance above camp on our first evening, it didn't take long to get to our starting point.

The morning started a little slow. We were catching fish, but in these types of backcountry locations, you expect fish to practically jump out of the water into your hands, and it wasn't quite that easy. Of course, fishing can ebb and flow over the course of a day. Weather, stream flows, hatches, moon phase, and many other factors can all contribute to fish being active or not. Eventually, things started picking up and we were catching fish, or at least getting hits, in enough spots to keep us laser focused.

Returning to a piece of water after years away is always fun. Seeing favorite pools, new log jams, and how the stream has changed is always interesting. These changes are exacerbated by time away, when lots of little changes have added up to some big changes. Most of the stream was about like I remembered it, but there were some differences as well. New channels were cut, leaving some spots almost dry while others carried water like never before. Fish were about where you would expect, but just enough came out of strange spots to keep us covering all of the water thoroughly.

The biggest surprise that we had already noticed on our first evening of fishing was the lack of rainbow trout. It wasn't that we didn't catch any, because we did, but overall, the numbers of rainbow trout versus brookies was stacked strongly in favor of the brook trout. I only caught a handful of rainbows on the entire trip. My buddy Elam caught a few more than I did, but still not many. That was super encouraging even if it was only a short term trend that will likely be reversed after just one or two years of good spawning conditions for the invasive rainbow trout. Hopefully the brook trout have a highly successful spawn this fall and get another boost in their numbers before the rainbows really start to ramp back up next year.

The day was pleasant, with just enough fall colors to add extra beauty to the scene constantly unfolding around us. The transition happened above a long flat that I had fished several times before. The stream hit another very steep section. I had been to the top of the big pool that was at the base of the steep section, but not beyond. I was now entering new-to-me territory.

We continued up through the steep terrain, and I noticed that fish were not as plentiful. We were still catching plenty, but overall numbers seemed a little lower than below. This particular section of stream turns into an extended section of high gradient bedrock with very little spawning habitat. I suspect that the lower fish numbers was a by-product of the lack of good spawning habitat, relying on fish moving in from above or below. Based on our topo maps and some other research, there were plenty of flatter sections above again. However, I wouldn't make it that far on this day.

I was starting to get tired and it was getting late in the day. Knowing I had the long return hike downstream had me feeling cautious. My buddy Elam was still full of energy (oh to be young again!), but I was starting to realize I needed to be careful. This came to a head when I slipped while climbing a steep bank to get around a boulder and deep pool. Slipping, I busted my knuckles pretty bad and started bleeding. I've got to the point that I know when to let well enough alone, and just a short distance beyond, I told Elam that he was welcome to keep fishing as long as he wanted, but I was going to call it for the day. I settled in to relax stream side while he headed up a little further. I know my own limitations these days, and when I start making mistakes, that is my warning. The next mistake could be costly as far as we were from civilization or even good trail access.

The stream was absolutely gorgeous in this stretch. I stopped just below a major plunge over a massive bedrock headwall. It looked like things might level back off up around the corner, but I wasn't certain of that. Later, when Elam came nimbly rock hopping back down the stream, he confirmed that it did indeed level back off into another long stretch of lower gradient water. This stream is very interesting because it is a mix of long low gradient sections interspersed with very high gradient sections that would be incredible to see at high flows. The bedrock was polished smooth and gave us a faint idea of what kind of forces work on this terrain on a regular basis throughout the year.

On this last day, our overall numbers were again excellent by the end of the day. Not as insane as the prior day, but the average size was pretty good. We never did catch any giants, probably not even breaking 10 inches on the brook trout, but coming close a few times. The water is beautiful, however, and the size of the habitat suggests that larger brook trout in the 11-12 inch range are certainly possible. I'll be back again, to scout even further upstream, constantly pushing into new and unexplored (by me) terrain. That's what it's all about for me where I'm at in my fly fishing journey.

As we headed back down the stream, we hit some of the spots we either skipped or didn't fish hard enough on the way up. At one spot, a massive log jam was even more impressive from the top side, and we stopped long enough for some pictures as Elam had to climb to the top. However, the light was starting to lessen, and I wanted to get back in time to eat before dark. We hit a couple more pools and then headed on back to camp. The next day was our last, and I wanted to get up and on the trail to hike back to civilization fairly early. The last weather forecast I had seen suggested rain might be moving in, and I hoped we could beat it back.

That night in camp, our conversation turned to the majesty of this hidden gem. Elam agreed that it was indeed one of the best streams he had fished in the Smokies, largely because the catching was only a piece of the equation. Instead, the constant reminders of the sheer power of nature around us were humbling and awe inspiring and encouraged us to return again and again to this magical place. At the end of the day, I could write the same thing about any number of backcountry streams, for the magic is in the solitude resulting from the long walk in. Only a few fortunate people will ever see most of these places, and the ones who do come will have earned the right to be there. Earning the right also enhances a person's appreciation of these wild places. It is a sacred responsibility to know about these places, one that no one should take lightly. We are simply visitors trying to blend in as best we can and leave it the same as or better than we found it. In this day of the internet ruining fishing spots like never before, there are still places that shouldn't be spoken of by name, and this is one of them.

New Old Rods

2025-11-25T13:23:00.001-06:00

Human nature causes us to look on the past with nostalgia. That can be dangerous, of course. One of my history professors in college liked to remind us that "there was no such thing as the good old days because the life expectancy back then was in the 30 year range." That's fair enough, but was there a golden age for fly rods? Ask ten different fly anglers and you'll get ten different answers on that. A newbie fly angler who just upgraded to the most expensive rod from the likes of Scott, Orvis, G Loomis, Winston, or any of the other popular rod manufacturers will tell you that this indeed is the best fly rod ever made. Manufacturers regularly bill their newest as the best ever. That's at least partially forgivable since they are in the business of selling products that require at least some level of marketing. That said, if the rods are really all that, won't they sell themselves? That's a question for a different day. What I'm really interested in is my personal all time favorite rod series.

My Favorite Rods

While some of the newest and best rods are truly incredible, my favorites, other than whatever rod is in my hand catching fish at any given time, are the original graphite Superfine rods from Orvis. They are hands down some of the most fun to fish. Thankfully they don't have the terrible "label" on the rod blank just above the handle of the newer Orvis rods (which also go a long ways towards keeping me from buying any current Orvis rod). I would probably buy several of the new ones if it wasn't for that goofy label as they are otherwise incredible rods. The blanks are unsanded (one of my favorite features), and they have the small Superfine grips that don't fatigue my hand while casting. Oh, and they flex. They are incredible soft, loading deeply into the blank for some of the most fun you can have fishing small streams. They are also in fairly high demand, meaning you can expect to pay at minimum close to original retail for one and often even more.

My first "nice" fly rod was a Superfine "Tight Loop" (an 8' 4 weight rod), and I have since found a couple more of these original Superfine graphite rods in other models. Most recently, I was on the prowl for a "One Ounce." This rod is a 6' 6" 2 weight that weighs one ounce. It sounded too good to be true. On paper, it was the perfect brook trout rod and also great for delicate dry fly presentations to any small or medium sized trout.

Finding My Next Superfine

After watching for one on again and off again for several years, I finally got a heads up from my buddy Trevor who buys and sells rods regularly. He is great at tracking down hard to find rods and he had found one at a reasonable price point. I could have had one before this point, but wasn't willing to spend way more than original retail to get it. The rod looked good in pictures and when it was delivered, I took it out and examined it. Everything was in good shape, I just needed a good excuse to fish it.

Fast forward a few months and it was time for my annual fall camping trip. This year, it was the camping trip that almost didn't happen. Then, one day, I had a conversation with my buddy John that got me excited to go and thankfully I still had some days free. We made a plan and before I knew it, the time had arrived.

Fishing My New Old Superfine Rod

Almost as an afterthought, I threw the One Ounce in my truck when I was packing for the camping trip. I figured maybe there would be some dry fly opportunities. When the day of departure arrived, we nearly skipped going. The forecast was for the first major cold front of the season to bring snow and very cold temperatures to the Smokies and broader southeastern US. Still, it looked like we might get some decent fishing on our first afternoon and perhaps the next day as well.

I got a slightly later start than intended, but eventually was on the road and headed for the mountains. Of course, a stop at Little River Outfitters in Townsend was needed. I usually think of something I need, but at minimum I like to stop and say hi to the guys at the shop. On this trip, I was after a new line for a reel I had sitting around that would work on my new Superfine. After that stop, we headed over the top of Newfound Gap and down the other side to Smokemont Campground. I've been doing a fall camping trip there for years and always enjoy the crisp cool mornings and good late autumn fishing. Dry fly opportunities are often excellent around this time of year, with low flows common. Anglers should be very cautious of brook and brown trout spawning and avoid walking through redds and spawning areas.

When we arrived at the campground, the sun was shining and while the wind was starting to pick up with the front coming in, we knew that this would be the warmest water of our whole trip. In other words, we needed to get out there and fish hard. Since I wanted to make sure and fish the new-to-me old rod, I put it carefully together and pulled out a small Parachute Adams. Surely there would be at least one or two fish rising.

We walked over to the stream and started working up a nice low gradient section. Not too long into our session, I spied a smallish trout holding in a nice slick that was rising fairly steadily. Exactly the kind of fish I was looking for. It took a couple of casts to get the fly in the right spot due to the strong wind, but the fish ate as soon as I got a good drift. I whiffed. Seriously. Not once, but twice.

Still, the fish was rising. I figured out it was more likely to eat if I cast farther above it instead of close, so I started casting 4 or 5 feet above the fish to set up a good drift. On my second or third cast up there, a fish I never saw came up and inhaled the fly. Thankfully, even though I was focused on my initial target, I was paying enough attention to set the hook and a lively fight ensued. Turns out I caught the larger of the two fish in that run which suited me just fine. My first trout on the "One Ounce" was a very respectable brown trout and on a dry fly no less.

The rest of the day was anticlimactic. I did catch another fish or two, still all on dry flies. One rainbow in particular was fun. I missed it on my first drift through a strong back eddy below a boulder. The fish was facing directly towards me when it ate, and I simply pulled the fly completely out of its mouth.

Thankfully, it didn't feel the hook, and on the next drift it ate again. I waited a little longer to set the hook to let the fish turn, and immediately felt the 2 weight rod bend deeply as the lively rainbow ran hard into the current. After a fun fight, an average Smoky Mountain rainbow trout came to hand.

The next day saw some incredible dry fly fishing on Deep Creek, but the weather was much colder. In fact, things were getting nasty enough and cold enough that we decided the smart idea probably involved heading home earlier than intended. Low temperatures our second night were forecast to be in the low to mid teens. Sleeping would have been fine, but getting up the next morning and crawling out of a warm sleeping bag would have been miserable.

I made it home in time to enjoy our first snowfall of the season on the Cumberland Plateau and appreciated my nice warm bed more than usual. The first expedition with my new old rod was a success. Now I just need to find a good time to go brook trout fishing with it...

Find more information on a Smokies fly fishing guide HERE.

Into the Wild Beyond: Day Two

2025-11-17T21:32:00.001-06:00

Waking up next to a tumbling mountain trout stream has to be the best way to enter a new day. The glow of dawn had me awake and shortly after, climbing out of my tent. The cool mountain air was invigorating with just a hint of the cold months lurking over the horizon. Not so cold you needed a jacket, but cool enough to make you briefly second guess your plans to wet wade.

Read Day One HERE

I had a nice relaxing morning with some reading, a leisurely breakfast, and of course enjoying the scenery which never gets old. There were plenty of wildflowers around camp to enjoy, not to mention the stream itself. At some point, though, I made a subtle mental shift from enjoying the place I was in to getting excited about encountering more of the finned inhabitants of the waterways around camp. My rod was put back together (I no longer leave it assembled in camp, feel free to ask if you have questions on why) and I tied on a dry fly. Putting on the wet wading boots was the last task that I kept waiting until we were both ready to hit the water. That is probably one of my least favorite jobs on a fishing trip. Wet wading gear, damp from the previous day's fishing, is never fun to put on.

Once we were ready to fish, we decided to do a short trail walk to a section of stream that is always fun to fish, full of plunge pools and waterfalls. You have to be extremely careful as there are lots of places where a slip could have serious consequences. I've found myself moving slower and more deliberately through the water these days. Sadly, I'm not getting any younger. I think my buddy Elam had a hard time relating the few times I commented about getting old.

We jumped in at a favorite waterfall scene. This spot never gets old and we both caught several brookies before we even got to the base of the first falls. Surprisingly, the plunge pool at the base of the actual falls didn't fish as well as the pools and pockets further down. We didn't pause for too long other than for a few pictures and were soon climbing the exposed ledge around the side of the falls, hoping to not fall back down.

This stream is one of my favorites for brook trout because of both the numbers and size of its resident fish. On one trip, my buddy Greg and I caught ten brook trout nine inches or better. For the Smokies, that is phenomenal. On our trip, we never broke ten inches, but the numbers were absurd. I think we got Elam a new personal best in terms of fish caught in a day on a Smokies trip. My own personal best numbers day came from this same area. It just doesn't get fished enough to make the fish hard to catch. There are lots of places in the Smokies that fall into that category still, thankfully I might add. You just have to work to get to them.

We were working pretty hard just to fish this one. Numerous huge boulders, giant ledges, and yes, lots of waterfalls all made our way harder but also contributed to keeping fishing pressure to a minimum. The big shocker happened around midday. We were struggling through yet another steep section. At times it felt that even a mountain goat would struggle to negotiate the rough terrain. Then, I saw a small clue stream side. Some small branches that had been gnawed on. Upon closer inspection, I found more evidence that yes, beavers had somehow invaded even this incredibly rough drainage. I'm forever amazed at where these animals can and do go. Check out the fresh cuttings we found!

After wondering in awe at this little sideshow, we got back to fishing. The fish were coming with regularity. Put the fly in the right spot, catch a fish. Rinse and repeat. One of the treats on these trips is enjoying different color schemes on these jewels. Some fish are dark, some are light, some have been jaws while others are more delicate. Each fish is unique and some are truly stunning

In addition to catching plenty of trout, we were also enjoying the creekside flora. Numerous wildflowers were still blooming at this late date as evidenced by the profusion on our hike in. Streamside, there were a few goodies. One of the most prolific was the white snakeroot. One of the last wildflowers to bloom each year, it was a sure sign that the growing season was winding down. Next up? Spring wildflowers in a few months.

One of the reasons I enjoy brook trout fishing in the late summer or early fall is that at least some of the fish have colored up for the fall dance. While the spawn doesn't usually start until October, the fish are already looking good by sometime in August or September. One of the most beautiful fish we found on this trip came partway through this first full day of fishing. It had the fiery orange belly that makes those fall fish so special.

Despite the often small size of this brook trout stream, it does have a few surprises. Like any good stream, the occasional "big" pool is always a treat to stumble across. I haven't gotten around to naming any of my favorite pools on this stream yet, but I've fished it enough now that I probably ought to. One in particular is always excellent. It has produced as many as ten fish on some trips and usually offers that many chances at minimum. We caught and missed quite a few out of it on this trip although probably not quite ten. Other pools that usually fish very well were surprisingly slow. One in particular stands out. I've seen nine inch and larger fish come from this pool and it is usually good for at least three or four fish and often several more. On this trip, however, we got maybe one or two and possibly missed one, but overall we just weren't seeing fish in this pool. Those are the types of ebbs and flows that make more sense if you are on the same piece of water frequently, but when you only come once a year if you're lucky, those types of pools always create reason to wonder what is going on.

As the day wore down, I started letting Elam fish most of the best water. It was getting late and I was starting to wind down for the day. I did manage a couple of late fish that also happened to be picture fish. One was special because of the distinct blue halos on its flanks. The other fish had the blue halos but also better amounts of orange. Best of all, that second fish ate a dry fly.

This section of creek always seems to end abruptly. One minute you're working through some skinny pocket water, and the next it is time to climb out and hit the trail. Most streams I fish are broken into sections based on how the stream flows in relation to a nearby trail or manway. This stream had some fairly obvious in and out spots. If you picked the wrong spot, the resident stinging nettle would protect the brook trout from any hasty invasion.

We carefully navigated our way out of the stream bed, avoiding the nettle. On our hike back, we began debating what to do the next day. One more full day of fishing loomed ahead. We were both excited and also torn. Normally, I would fish the next section of stream that we had been working up, getting in at the same spot we exited on this day. However, after catching a couple of big brook trout a little closer to camp, the chance to catch larger native brook trout had us at a serious crossroads. Which stream would we fish the next day?

Find information on guided fly fishing trips in the Smokies HERE.

Monthly Newsletter

2025-11-02T20:47:00.006-06:00

If you subscribe to my monthly newsletter for Trout Zone Anglers (my guide service), you should have already received this. If not, here is the November newsletter. Want to see other articles or information in the newsletter? Let me know what you would like to see included, and I'll see what I can do.

News from Trout Zone Anglers: November 2025

Fleeting Fall Colors

2025-10-31T11:13:00.004-05:00

Every year, I look forward with anticipation to the fall colors. Every year, the colors do not last long enough. That is probably part of the allure. Such fleeting enjoyment adds to the mystique and leaves me grasping at the slightest hints of autumn. In some years, I find the first beautifully colored leaf in June, sometimes in July, very rarely as late as August. Of course, those aren't true fall colors, but leaves that happened to dry up and die prematurely for this reason or that. Still, they help build the anticipation and excitement for the main event to come.

This year, we headed up to a favorite hike where we hit the colors just right once upon a time. Ever since, we've tried to replicate that one magical day and apparently, it is harder to do than it seemed the first time. It was a great hike, don't get me wrong, but the colors were past peak on the brightest candidates (maples, etc) and barely even started on others (oaks, etc).

A few days ago, we hit a new to us trail that we've been meaning to hike for a while. It was short enough for the whole family and had the possibility of some nice colors. Turns out that we really enjoyed the hike and will be back, and the colors were good but not great. That seems to be the theme this year.

Some of it comes down to lighting. If you see the colors in the right light, they can really pop. Often that means a rainy day. We drove through Fall Creek Falls recently, and found some really nice color. Maybe not the best I've ever seen in Tennessee, but very nice.

Of course, my job gives me a better opportunity than most to enjoy the colors. Just yesterday, I was taking in the colors on the Clinch while my client battled gorgeous wild rainbow trout. Being a Smokies fly fishing guide is one of my favorite things imaginable, largely because, well, I get to spend a lot of time in the Great Smoky Mountains. Every October, I book an inordinate number of trips up there. While my work as a fly fishing guide has really morphed into more of a float guide, I still do a decent number of wade trips. I go where the trips book and, while more or less booked as much as I want, still can't get too picky on where those trips book. I feel fortunate to spend the highest percentage of any month in the Smokies during color season. Some years are better than others, but every year provides its own magical moments.

Now, as we morph into the winter months, I'm looking forward to a lot more hiking than I get accomplished in the warmer months and a little more personal fishing as well. Still, if I could stretch the fall season out a little longer, I'd do it in a heartbeat, especially if I could preserve those gorgeous fall colors a little longer.

Into The Wild Beyond: Day One

2025-10-28T21:46:00.003-05:00

Fishing accessible water is always great for a quick fix, but more and more I find myself striving for new to me water. That usually involves some hiking, at least locally. I've exhausted the vast majority of accessible roadside water in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. As a Great Smoky Mountains fly fishing guide, that kind of water is my bread and butter, and some days I enjoy fishing it for myself. However, there is also something to be said for seeing more remote water, preferably that I haven't fished before. That's why my fly fishing adventures are revolving around backpacking more than ever these days.

Life has been busy, however. I actually hadn't been backpacking since my epic golden trout adventure in the Wind River range. If you missed all of those, here is a link to each article.

Planning A New Trip

Since that epic trip, my adventures have been great including a phenomenal trip to the White River in Arkansas, but my backpacking took a back seat to more important family concerns. This year, with both little ones and Mama doing well, I decided it was time to get back into the wild beyond of the Great Smoky Mountains again. I've had a couple of camping trips, but while they are a blast, car camping just isn't the same as backpacking.

It took me some time, but I finally ~~conned~~ convinced my buddy Elam, the fly fishing manager at Backberry Farm, to join me on the grueling trek deep into the backcountry. Most of my other friends looked at the elevation profile of my chosen trail and the distance from trailhead to the campsite, and decided no way. Elam hadn't been backpacking before, a point that shocked not only me but all of my friends who know him as well. This probably contributed to him agreeing to the hike. Regardless, the plans were made and campsite booked. Soon, the day of departure arrived and we were driving to the trailhead to begin our adventure.

The Hike In

My backpack felt heavier than I remembered on my Wyoming trip, probably because I had to carry wading gear instead of just fishing from the banks on high country lakes. Maybe it was because I'm getting soft in my old age. I had started some intentional exercise back up, and this made a tremendous difference for me on the hike. Still, there is no way to prepare yourself physically to lug 40 pounds up the side of a mountain other than just doing it.

The hike over the mountains was brutal. Per the usual, I did better than I expected and also worse than I expected. The steep uphill grade was tough, but a profusion of wildflowers made the trek more manageable. In addition to the normal water breaks, we also stopped from time to time to enjoy the wildflowers. Late season asters, gentians, goldenrod, lobelia, and other goodies made the time move slightly faster than what felt like a glacial pace anytime I focused on the heavy pack on my back.

After several miles, we finally hit the crest and started down the other side. The plants and wildflowers changed dramatically as the far side of the ridge didn't have the same light angle and levels. There were still plenty of interesting things, but it wasn't until we got down close to camp that we started finding good numbers of wildflowers again.

Target Stream Acquired

One of the big moments on any backpacking trip is the first clue that you're getting close to your home for the next few days. On this trip, that first hint was the sound of our target stream cascading through the bottom of the gorge below the trail. The first whisper of sound actually came to us shortly after cresting the ridge. That sound got more and more obvious as we approached the campsite.

Upon arriving at the campsite, located close to the stream, we started setting up camp. The forecast indicated that rain was possible just about any time during our trip, and while overall chances weren't crazy high, we didn't want to set up in a downpour. That task accomplished, we both started eying the stream. I had snacked on my lunch on the hike in, so I was ready to wet a line before thinking about supper.

With multiple good fishing options close to camp, the first evening was dedicated to the obvious water closest to camp. That is how I often go about my backpacking trips, and this was not going to be an exception. We had apparently set up camp just in the nick of time. A light shower started up at the same time we began casting our dry/dropper rigs. Before long, we were enjoying our first trout and char of the trip.

Interestingly, the char took the front seat and this from a section of stream that had historically contained a lot of rainbow trout. More on that in a future post covering a day later in the trip, but needless to say we were both excited to see such good numbers of brook trout early in the trip.

We continued working upstream, catching fish in more places than not. The light shower and evening light even produced some magic over the water. I looked downstream over my shoulder and immediately had to turn around and just enjoy the show that nature was putting on.

Not much further, we had to climb around a boulder and ran into some local wildlife in the course of doing so. I was hoping that this wasn't a harbinger of things to come.

Big Brook Trout

Two highlights occurred that first evening and both involved larger brook trout. The first was one of my first fish. I had cast a dry/dropper rig with a green weenie up into a faster riffle with a small pocket. When the dry fly dropped, I didn't expect much of a fish, but immediately realized it was a pretty nice trout. You can imagine my surprise when I got its head up and saw a colored up brook trout instead of the chunky rainbow trout I expected. My buddy Elam ran over with the net, and I was soon enjoying my first 9"+ brookie of the trip. After a couple of pictures, I watched it slide back into the current to be caught another day.

A ways further up the stream, I climbed over a huge boulder, and then up onto another one. I could see a giant pot on the other side if I just barely peaked over the top. I dropped my flies in and a big ol' brook trout smoked the dry fly. This was another exciting fight, except I knew a lot sooner that I was dealing with a brookie. I think Elam could tell I was excited because he had the net there very fast.

After those two fish, I started really slowing down and trying to let Elam enjoy the best spots. My evening and even trip was already made, and I was starting to think about getting back to camp to dry off and eat supper. Even with that, we both caught a few more before calling it a day. We hadn't been seriously counting numbers, but for such a short session, we had caught a lot of fish.

Evening In Camp

After heading back to camp, we got ready for supper. Light was fading fast by the time we wrapped up eating and headed for our tents. I was happy to crawl in and enjoy my warm sleeping bag. After a long hot summer, night time at relatively high elevation in the Smokies was fairly cool. My poor aching muscles were also glad for the rest. I needed to get my energy up for a long two days of fishing ahead before I had to think about carrying that heavy pack back over the mountains. The next day would see me back on my favorite brook trout stream...

Remote Floats

2025-09-30T20:47:00.001-05:00

Fishing new water is always exciting. Whether wading or floating, seeing a piece of water for the first time is a treat that shouldn't be taken lightly. After all, given enough time, an angler can exhaust most of their local options for seeing new water. It takes a while, but eventually you realize that you've seen most of the places there are to fish in your neck of the woods.

For me, there are some rivers that I've seen almost every fishable inch, and others that I can honestly say I've fished, but definitely wouldn't say I've got them dialed in yet. That only comes with repetition, more for some people than others, but still requires a decent number of fishing trips. I'm fortunate that I'm blessed with a memory for water. Take me to a stream one time, and I've got a pretty good idea about fishing it in the future.

On new to me water, the lack of any pre knowledge makes for an exciting day. The constant discovery process is invigorating. Recently, I got to do just that on two separate occasions. The more recent was a backpacking trip in the Smokies that I'll get to in another post. The other occasion was what seems ages ago, but was really not even a month and a half ago. My good friend and fellow fly fishing guide and smallmouth guru Chris Bean was up for an adventure and had the perfect boat for scouting remote smallmouth water. I had some insight on a put-in and take-out option, and a plan was hatched.

We met at the take-out, then drove up to the sketchy boat launch well upriver. The more I hang out with these smallmouth guys, the more I realize that the term "boat launch" is a pretty loose concept. Regardless, we got the raft in the water, and started working our way down the river.

Things were slower than either of us liked, but we were catching some fish. For this trip, catching fish was really just the icing on the cake. More than anything, it was about a remote float on a new to each of us piece of water. We did both have opportunities and also both caught some nice fish. We both lost fish that would likely have been a new personal best, but things slowed down by mid morning. It all made sense when Chris took a water temp and we discovered it was in the mid 80s. Those summer heat waves are hard on anglers and fish and this day was no exception.

We should have seen it coming. The heat had been building all day. In fact, when we finally had to jump out of the boat after bumping through countless riffles without getting hung up, it was almost a relief. The water, although hot, was better than the air temperature at that point. Of course, heat leads to instability, and instability leads to thundershowers.

By the time we were clearing the last significant riffle and jumped back in the boat, the sky was turning darker. I don't mind fishing in the rain. I do it more than I really like thanks to my job as a fly fishing guide. Oddly enough I've morphed into a fair weather angler, all the more strange because I still love a good rainy day, but the one place I always draw the line is with lightning.

I was keeping a close eye on the storm via a radar app on my phone. It was clearly bearing down on us and doubtful if we were going to stay dry. It hadn't been thundering too much until it got close. Then things got interesting in a hurry. When lightning started hitting the ridge just above us, it was time to pull over. I jumped out on a huge flat rock ledge and we told stories for a while. A glance up river suggested the heaviest rain hadn't even started yet.

Eventually, the storm eased on past and the lightning moved on to our south. The thunder got softer and softer until we felt quite safe getting back out on the water. Hopeful that the cooldown would send the fish into a feeding frenzy, we started fishing hard the last bit of our day.

Chris rolled a big bass or two on a streamer, but I was starting to wind down. I've noticed that I don't fish as hard as I used to most of the time. Knowing when to quit is almost as important as going in the first place. Happy to row while Chris fished, I guided the boat slowly downstream as the rain receded into the distance. The late day feeding frenzy didn't seem likely and we both were needing to get home at a reasonable hour.

The rest of our trip was anticlimactic, running the shuttle, pulling the boat out, essential tasks like that. We were both already plotting a return, however. New water won't become old hat without at least a few visits. Both of us left wanting to return and dial things in a little better. We agreed that a little more flow would be nice, however.