How did I became a troutmanizer, well first a little background. You ever wonder what "Mayfly on the grille with a little hummer means?" Well, hang around and I'll tell you. When I was 13, my dad purchased a fly rod and a box of flys. I halfway learned to use this fly rod in the waters around Nashville. I really enjoyed fishing with it for perch and bass. I quickly learned that there was an art to fly fishing and fly fishing was something special. Lately, I've been thinking about fly fishing again...So...a few weeks ago, I booked a trip to fly fish in the Great Smokey Mountains.
It's always more fun to have a partner, and here's mine, Pop, my father-in-law. A great fishermen, but like me, not much fly fishing experience. Oh yeah, Pop just turned 86 years old and is in great health. He can maneuver over rocks like a cougar. I hope I'm like Pop when I'm 86. Anyway, we met our guide, Eugene in Cherokee, North Carolina and drove a few miles to Bradley Fork Creek near Smokemont. We arrived, parking near the creek. Eugene is local, born and raised in the mountains. I knew I was going to like this guy when he asked..."Where "youns" from?" A mountain slang that is used all the way up into Pennsylvania. My go to word would have been... where "y'all from". Now if I had been up in New York, I may have been asked where "yous guys" from. Boy am I off track, lets get back to fishing.
Here's Pop with a small trout. I believe catching trout in the relaxing cool waters (59 degrees) of a mountain stream will give you a "possum grin." Can you tell he's grinning like a possum? I think so.
Hey, check out my fish, a small rainbow trout! How do you like my trout net, fly fishing vest, flys etc...cool right? Well, that's not me, its Eugene the fishing guide. I'm the one taking the picture, just behind the camera. Oh yeah, I was fishing a dry fly and a dropper. All our catches were on the wet end, however I did get a few bites on the dry fly.
Eugene is giving Pop a few instructions on how to improve his technique. Both Pop and I were lucky that we stayed out of the trees and didn't lose any flys. Also, no one got a wet butt from stubbing over rocks, either. Check out that can of bear spray on Eugene's waist, just in case a black bear tries to still a trout.
Here it is "my first brown trout." Eugene indicated that he was a wild brown and the way you can tell is by the pattern. The wild trout are born in the stream and have more and deeper brown markings on each side that look like the images of fingers gripping the side of the trout, sort of. Eugene referred to this as the hand of God. I apologize for the crappy pictures, with mountains on each side and dense foliage, too much shade was around and my cell phone was just not up to the task. I brought my Nikon D80, but was afraid that I would drop it in the creek.
All good things must end and so does this trip. We did catch several rainbows and one brown trout, not large but fun. Now I think I have become a "Troutmanizer!" What is a Troutmanizer?
Remember: Life is short, get away from the big screen and get on a big stream!