Staunton Run Scout

Speckled Native

The winter has been wearing on me and I was looking forward to getting out on the water after a long absence.  I spoke with my neighbor George on my early morning dog-walk and asked if him if he wanted to go along for an adventure.  He was game to get out of the house so we set out at 0700 for the longish drive to the Conway River West of Madison.

You're not alone out here!

My goal was to scout the river prior to a trip this Saturday with my neighbor James.  The rivers looked high, brown and bloated on the drive out 29 so I tempered my expectations.  As I turned left at Grave Mill on 662 there was still alot of snow on the ground and when the pavement ran out at the Rapidan WMA things got dicey.   The dirt road had not been plowed and looked sketchy, I creeped along in Clifford for about 200 yards until the very real prospect of getting stuck got the better of me.  We backed down to the pavement, turned around and headed back to Graves Mill. 

looking downstream: south slope no snow / north facing slope snow remains

We turned left at the B&B and followed the Rapidan upstream until the road ended at a SNP gate.   We parked, met a duck dynasty wannabe who'd slept in his truckbed, geared-up and walked .5 miles to where the Staunton entered the Rapidan from the left.  The streamside path was snow covered and slick and from the tracks there looked like there had been only one other human there recently.

I began with a #16 Parachute Adams followed by an #18 bead-head hares ear fishing the pools and runs.  The Staunton at this point is about the size of the Rapidan just below Camp Hoover, beautifully sized.   I had passed up gorgeous pools on the Rapidan during the .5 mile walk to the Staunton so I was very happy to slip into the water

Gauge Station Pool: only fingerlings here

This was George's first mountain fishing adventure so he was happy to take in the scenery and shoot some pics of the snowy stream.  The fishing was very slow for the first 15 minutes and I attributed that to the still very cold water.   It was about 47 outside but the sun was having a hard time penetrating the hollow and the snow melt was trickling 33 degree melt into the water, fortunately it was running clear. About 150 yds upstream of the confluence with the Rapidan was a newish stream gauge sitting in a gorgeous plunge pool.  I kept have fingerlings strike my dry but couldn't hook the little guys for the life of me.

Last of the catch from this plunge pool

I moved upstream from the gauge pool and changed out my dropper to a #20 green zebra midge and almost immediately started getting strikes just out of the riffles in the deeper pools. I caught four 5-8 inchers in the last pool I fished and was happy to show George the speckled beauty of these natives. Not wanting to wear out the good nature of my adventurous partner we headed back to the snowy trail which parallels the southern side of the river. On the way back to Clifford I fished a few inviting pools on the Rapidan without a strike. I'll come back here with James on Saturday and I target the bigger pools during the warm hours with midges.  What a great little river and once again the key seems to be out walking the pressure to pristine water.