It only took about a day and a half for people to stop asking where I was every morning. They knew the answer was going to be "fishing." It took even less time for them to stop asking if I caught anything. The answer was always "oh yeah!" I was in the Shenandoah Valley for my wife's Family Reunion. I seemed to be the only one that had fishing as a priority. Others showed interest and I came to borderline begging some to fish with me. In the end most of my fishing excursions were alone. There was a trip where I took my seven year old nephew to the Shenandoah River. I had delusions that we'd be wading together casting at smallies and possibly a muskie. That's not how it turned out at all. I forget how tall the average seven year old is. My nephew tried his best to follow me but every time I turned around he had water almost to his chest and the current was making it hard for him to keep his balance. I ended up carrying him while wading to various shallow spots. My knees took a beating and my nephew was more concerned with the minnows circling his feet than casting a line. I made an attempt to take him to the shallows near shore but he was afraid of the crawfish. No matter how much I told him they were harmless and a good sign fish would be around he wouldn't go near them. So that was basically all the fishing that was done with family.
You have to love the Internet where you can ask a question in a forum and a total stranger is willing to give you creditable information. I was tipped off to a brookie stream near where we were staying. I had no expectations and left to see what the water had to offer. The first glimpses of the stream were a mix of amazing and is there enough water there for fish? The water was also near a road and had to be heavily pressured. It was time to test the 3wt St Croix Avid. I had bought it for this very situation. The stream was so narrow I could straddle it.
My first few casts went directly into the trees. I started to spend more time untangling my leader than casting to pools. It was pretty frustrating and anyone within a half of a mile could probably hear my cursing. I put a lot of pressure on myself to get the cast perfect and give the best presentation possible. I spooked what looked to be fish but were they trout? I started to get a little lackadaisical. I started to just kind of thrash cast at pools and not really concentrate.
Then I went over a 3ft wide run and kind of just dangled my line in a riffle, WHAM!!!!!!!!!!! A fish came out from under a rock and slammed the fly. All I saw was a purple shimmer and splashing. I was in such amazement and the fish hit so close to me I almost didn't even bring it in. I kept just staring wondering did that truly just happen? I brought the fish in and saw that it was a brookie. My adrenaline went off the charts. I didn't have my net and this brookie was easily 7inches and slippery. I had my camera around my neck but my nervous reactions knocked the lens cap right in the creek. Who cares? I need to take a picture of this fish. I decided to hold it by the fly and got the camera ready. Literally as I was pressing the shutter the fish jerked and unhooked itself and came out of my hands. After that there was a sequence of slow motion events. Me yelling Noooooooo.... while watching the fish fall back into the water. Just as fast as it was unhooked it was gone without a trace. I sat there for a minute just contemplating. I just caught my first brookie and it was big for this stream. That might be the only fish I catch here. I was happy but disappointed all at the same time. Should I go get my net? That would stop this from happening again. I wasn't sure exactly what to do. I cast again literally three feet down the riffle again a flash comes up slams the fly and a fish is on. This one came off before I could get my hands on it. That's it! I'm getting the net.
I grabbed the lens cap and went back to the car for my net. I knew the fish liked the fly I was using and it was only a matter of time before I hooked another one. I was also a little relieved by the brookies behavior. The perfect cast reputation I had in my head was erased by the aggressive almost bluegill like behavior I witnessed. I learned quick there are scenarios where a perfect cast is required and where it wasn't. Perfect casts were needed for pools like this.
So I did what any great fisherman would do. I skipped those and went for places where my horrible casts would produce results. I finally found a pool where the spillway made a nice run into the middle of the pool. I figured a fish had to be in the middle of the run and hanging low. I went with a hairs ear nymph instead of a dry. The goal was going to be to hope the fish would swing around after the fly passed. Hit the fly and almost hook itself. The theory worked and with in seconds a fish was on. My net was ready and this fish was mine. My first brookie to be caught on film was this fish.
A picture can not even get close to showing how beautiful these fish are. Most camera's have a hard time capturing their color because most brookie streams are under a canopy allowing hardly any light. Even with this fish I took one picture it made a few lurches and was out of the net and back into the water. These fish are masters of conserving energy. They wait until the exact moment you loosen your grip or unhook them to start flipping around as hard as they can. It must be a learned response to help them survive. I caught a few more fish but didn't want to stress them too bad. I felt I had a pic of a wild brookie and that basically made the trip for me. Little did I know there was a lot more fun in store.
The Shenandoah Valley reminds me a lot of parts of Western North Carolina. The Shenandoah River runs through the valley and it is fed by creeks from the surrounding mountains. Most of these streams hold wild trout and the river holds a good population of Smallmouth and Muskie. I checked it out the morning after I hit the wild brookie stream. I figured anything I caught at this point was just icing. A guide waiting for a tubing group said "are you fishing?" I said Yeah. "You might want to try another spot, I have about 30 tubers coming down river in five minutes." Normally this would bother me but this day I didn't mind at all. That's fine they shouldn't disturb the water too much. The guide continued to tell me about another spot that did sound good and mentioned the spot I was currently at was pretty dead. "There's a few muskie but not much else." He said. He had me at muskie. That's on my list of fish to catch. I was also a little confused because when I came with my nephew the day before you could see fish all over. I decided to stick where I was at. I just figured I could try the other spot another day.
The Shenandoah River reminded me a lot of the New River in Virginia. They both are fairly clear and have ledges and rocky bottoms. The ledges have a very strange topography and hold perfect lies for fish. I found one that I could walk on and it was almost like a casting platform. It went on for about 200yds and it was only about two foot wide. I could see fish every where and I watched several follow my fly. As I walked upstream from the boat launch I was stopped in my tracks. Literally where my nephew and I were standing the day before was a muskie just hanging out in the shade. I stood just watching for at least five minutes. In my head I kept trying to make out is that really a muskie?
It's hard to tell from the pic but the muskie was about 25+ inches long. I had a 5wt and I figured it would be a formidable opponent. But did I have any flies big enough to entice this thing? I don't know too much about muskie. I read they fight hard and can be fairly aggressive. Supposedly the bigger the fly the better. I tied on about a 3inch long bunny leech fly said a prayer and launched it. My cast couldn't have been better and I watched the fly get closer and closer. I like to envision what I want to happen. In my head I could see the muskie charging the fly and peeling off line up river. My fly was with in three inches of the fish, now two, now one. The fly almost touched the fishes nose and it didn't even twitch a fin. Hmmm maybe the fly was at the wrong depth. I cast again this time the fly didn't come as close but still no movement from the fish. Maybe it's the fly. I tried another one, same response. Then a third fly. Is this fish dead? I mean the thing didn't move at all. I decided to just watch it for another five minutes. I took my camera out to get a better zoom on the fish and I could see it's back fin barely moving providing a little propulsion. I took a step forward and the fish started to slowly turn upstream. Was this it's feeding position? If it was I didn't have what it was looking for. I cast another fifty times and eventually got fed up and just walked by the fish. When I waded by the glare from the water camouflaged the muskie and I couldn't see it even with polarized glasses. It made me wonder how many I'd pass through out the day.
It was time to target smallies. I tried green and white clousers first the fish followed but would never commit to hitting the fly. Then I tried the poppers I tied. I had some hits but nothing would stick. I went through a few more flies then remembered the crawfish I saw the day before. During my recent fly swap I received a fly that was supposed to be for bone fish but it made the perfect crawfish imitation. I tied it on and saw a behavior I had never encountered before. There was a smallie about 10ft downstream off the ledge I was fishing on. The water was gin clear so I could see the fish perfectly. I dropped my fly down and watched the fish follow the fly, I gave it a twitch instead of the fish hitting, it positioned itself right behind the fly and let it swim into it's mouth. If I didn't see the whole thing I would have never reacted fast enough to set the hook. The fish instantly turned and headed downstream. I had no slack line so the reel sang a little. The smallie fought hard but in the end I won.
After seeing the behavior I kind of figured the fish out. If they followed the fly I'd give a few twitches and if I felt any tension in the line I'd do a strip strike. I missed a few but managed to catch some more.
The next days were spent fishing the Shenandoah River and exploring the surrounding streams. It was really hot even for July. The streams were all low and none produced anything like the first stream I hit. I hit it one more time before the end of the trip.
I went further upstream this time and the water got better and better. The pools were deeper and the most amazing part was it seemed untouched. There were only animal tracks and no trash. It was just how a wild brookie stream should be. I started the morning the same way I did the last time. Defending myself from a monster hornet then descended into the water and battled with trees my first twenty casts. The first run I actually got a decent cast in produced a fish. My net was with me and I was a lot smoother snapping a pic and releasing the fish.
The coloring on these fish was ridiculous and rivaled the brook trout I caught in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
These fish are far from stupid. If you move to fast or cast too sloppy you will just see shadows disappearing. If you do a decent cast and get it in the vicinity of a run or pool many times you will see a wake before your fly is slurped down. Eventually I got greedy and time was slipping away. I wanted to go for the biggest brookie I could find. I seeked out the deepest pool.
This one looked good. The only problem was the log laying across the best part of the pool. I decided to try it any ways. I tied on a big stimulator with rubber legs. My first cast landed to the left of the spillway. One thing I have to mention about these fish is they are the ninja of trout. You won't see them even after they come up and hit your fly you will not be sure of what you just saw. I had a fish hit and spit my fly all with in about one second. If you let your guard down at all that will be the time the fish hits. Luckily this spot was the jackpot and I had several attempts to catch a fish. I hooked one, fought it for a bit then gingerly lifted it over the log.
You have to respect what these fish do to survive. These streams are so small they almost freeze over in the winter. The pools aren't large enough to really escape predators. It's amazing there's any fish really. That's why after catching them I treated the fish like a rare artifact. I missed more than I caught out of this hole, even a fish that had to be close to 10inches, but I was already on cloud nine. The fish gods were kind to me.
