Fly Fishing Virgin No More!

For the last 7 years, I have had a Redington Crosswater rod sitting in my closet. The truth is, the idea of fly fishing is something I have fancied for years, as someone who is interested in biology and ecology as a hobby. As a writer, and wildlife artist, I see fly fishing as a lucrative hobby that not only offers opportunities for me as a creator, but also opportunities to pass on to others what I learn. The thing was - I was afraid to get started.

As a spin fisherman, I have traditionally used only homemade spinners and a 4.5 foot cork-handle Shimono rod, with 4 lb test on most streams. With a couple decades of experience, I am comfortable flipping a spinner up and out into a deep riffle or pocket with accuracy. I'm also confident that if trout are present, I will catch some, when spin-fishing is my method. I've had great days, of 80-90 trout while spinning, but therein lies the issue. I enjoy it, I'm good at it, but the time has come for me to expand. And so, yesterday I pulled out the old - but unused fly rod - and with no experience, headed out to a local trout stream in search of my first fish on a fly.

Upon arrival to the stream, I was already discovering the challenge of navigating the forested terrain with an eight-and-a-half-foot rod. And, while trout were rising all around me on mayflies, the first thing I actually caught, was my own fishing rod. Casting was a learning experience, but it wasn't long until I was figuring it out well enough to at least present the fly in the water.

Darn it!

I don't pretend to know exactly what kind of fly I was using - but after 10 minutes of fumbling, I did manage to have a small fish on that I failed to successfully hook. Frustrating as it was, I persisted. Catching myself again with the hook, and also the leafy branch of a Silver Maple. In my mind, the tree was laughing at me, surrounded by trout, but unable to land one.

Seeing a lot of trout activity downstream, I cautiously moved down and attempted to cast. Finally, a brook trout rose and took the fly. The fight was short, and just as I got the fish within reach, it freed itself and shot back under the large rock from whence it came. It was clear that setting the hook was going to be a challenge.

As the evening light stretched across the forested creek, more and more trout were hitting the insects around me. By this point, the only thing I had officially landed, was a broken heart, and diminished ego. So, I chose to move to another section of stream, where the water was slower and deeper.

By the time I arrived, it was getting dark fast. An American Woodcock was calling and winging through the air as they do. As one of my favorite birds, I was pleased to hear him as he spiraled upward from the thick cover alongside the stream. I tallied a lot of bird species singing, but remembered I was here to fish too - and cast my fly upstream where some small fish were hitting the water surface.

Suddenly, something took the fly!

I reeled in the fish, which dodged and darted like a silver bullet with vermillion fins. Close inspection revealed the species to be Luxilus cornutus, the Common Shiner. With small bumps on his head, colorful scales and vibrant fins, this member of the minnow family is officially the first fish I've ever landed on a fly, and I'll take it.

Until next time...