Big Time on Big Run

Sun splattered Big Run Brookie

 I love the Rapidan River and sometimes I wonder why I would ever cheat on her, but the lure of Big Run has been enchanting me for a year or two.  Big Run drains a large watershed on the western slope of the Shenandoah ridge and is accessible to the bold.  Access from the Shenandoah Valley is problematic because of private land and access from Sky Line drive requires a knee busting 3+ mile Switchback descent forecasting pain for the the return climb. Standing at Big Run Overlook looking to the west, the Big Run valley-drainage is a gunsight taking aim on the southern prominence of Massanutten Mountain.

James and I began our journey at 0545, met Fritz in Midland, Va., piled into the van and headed down 29 to Ruckersville where we turned West on 33 entered SNP and turned south on skyline drive to Big Run Overlook at mile marker  81.5 to begin our adventure. We geared up each of us quietly measuring the heft of our packs against the age of our knees. Fritz had purchased a nice topo at the Loft Mtn sundry so we had some navigational confidence as we stepped off. 

We descended Big Run Loop Trail and three (long) medium-steep switchbacks until we began crossing unmarked, unnamed, spring-fed feeder streams and then intersected with Big Run Portal Trail.  We followed the portal trail for another 2 miles until we reached our planned bivouac site in the vicinity of the confluence of Big Run and Rocky Run.  Its true that a pack and a long march hardens character and builds camaraderie.

Headwaters of Big Run

 The sound of the water, the bounce of the moss, and the majesty of massive sentinel trees provided rich amusement along the way. Enroute to the bivouac we had several adventurous stream crossings: rock-hopping, tree bridges and then when Big Run got, ...well....to big we just took off our hikers and wet waded.  It was increasingly hard to bypass the beautiful pools and runs as we got lower and lower in the watershed especially when we began to see trout flittering in the dappled sunlight of the big pools. This place is really special, the kind of place I feel content and fulfilled by the beauty of the river

James Rock-Hopping over an unnamed tributary

In retrospect we need not have knee-busted all the way down to the Rocky Run as the best fishing (the kind I like) is in the section upstream from Rocky Run and down stream from where Eppert Hollow Creek joins Big Run. This section is very similar to the upper Rapidan with continuous plunges, pools, glides and riffles for more than a mile and a half.

Fritz spied a gorgeous camp site on the south side of the river and as the sun had disappeared and a warm, wet breeze was moving up the river-valley we made our camp quickly, finishing as the first drops of rain began splattering.  Armored in waders and wading jackets the rain didn't bother us at all.

with no way to stay dry we went barefoot through the cold water -- Fritz and James

James making his way across the 6th crossing

Fritz, rigged up with a 7'6" Orvis 4 wt pulled two brookies from the pool beside our camp with a size 12 brown wulff pattern followed three feet later by a prince nymph dropper.  His catches forecast a good start to the angling day.  James decided to fish the beautiful water in the immediate vicinity of the camp and Fritz and I elected to walk down-stream for 10 minutes and fish back up to camp. As we headed down stream (back again on the Big Run Portal Trail) we crossed rocky Run and then met two BassPro Shop-clad fellas with spinning rods heading up the trail.

Rocky Run (right) joins Big Run (left)

  We said hello to their beautiful brindle cane corso and found that they intended to camp above us and fish above us.   We expected to see them again but never did. Big Run below Rocky Run is truly big for a SNP stream and I confess I tried to force small stream, pocket water tactics in water that was just too strong and turbulent for my approach. Fritz on the other hand adapted better and with his dropper 3 feet below his dry he swept/swung his dry-dropper across the deeper pools allowing his dropper to sink in his targeted seams.  I think he had 8 trout to my one as we moved back up the river.

4-Star accommodations on the bank of Big Run

I had markedly better success upstream from the confluence of the Rocky Run where the flow was much more conducive to my tactics.  We fished beyond camp looking for James and I began to pick up trout on both dry and dropper.  We turned around 200 yds upstream of camp figuring that James had back-tracked to camp as the sun set quickly in the narrow valley.

Both a Baetis and Caddis hatch was coming off the water, this is
blue wing olive mayfly that had landed on the brim of my hat

We found James back at camp, he'd caught 5 in the vicinity of camp while we were downstream. As Fritz and James began meal preparations I crossed Big Run and waded into the smaller Rocky Run until I found a willing volunteer to grab my dry so I could say I caught a trout on Rocky Run too.   I returned to camp with a smile on my face having brought 10 trout to hand.   I suspect Fritz had quietly caught 16-18.

tired but happy

We enjoyed the simple pleasures of clean water, hot food, good company, motrin and a camp fire until rain started spitting at us at 2030. 2100 found James and I hammocked in sleeping bags and Fritz on a bed of pine needles hoping that any neighborhood bears would start with our garbage bag before nosing into our sleeping bags.  It spit throughout the night and we all tossed and turned, sore but happy.

Fritz caught the first brookie of the adventure in the campside pool

Frtiz targeting a likely seam w a stealthy approach

First light roused us around 0600 and a hot meal, coffee and a tooth paste had us ready to go again. We broke camp and decided that our general plan would be for Fritz and I to walk-fish up stream and meet James who would fish at the stream crossings. Fritz and I looked funny fishing fishing with full kits on our backs, but after we adjusted our balance we were soon catching fish in the likely spots.

Matt -- pack on -- fish on!

James corrals a brookie he'd been stalking -- great fish

Both a baetis and caddis hatch was coming off the river, the sun was drifting through the trees and the fish were aggressive ...heaven on earth. We kept this up until about 1030 when we decided to change over to hiking gear and tackle the climb-out. 

Fritz heavy pack fishing

Good conversation and water stops took our mind off our knees and broke up the hike and we were all glad to see the rock wall defining Skyline Drive welcome us back to the top of the ridge line.  All things considered the hike was a challenge, but not as challenging as we anticipated and the fishing, scenery and camaraderie was great.  I'll be back to Big Run.

Sun spears heaven

Not all days fish equally -- slow day on Dry River

James and I had high hopes for our trip to the Dry River when we set out Friday morning.  The Dry River tumbles down from Switzer Reservoir on the West Virginia border and I thought would fish like the Rapidan had yesterday. Scott turned me on to the Dry several years ago as he guided one of his clients in the area and its been very good to me on most trips.  As we moved west on 66 and south on 81 the rain picked up and we were pretty sure we'd be fishing amid heavy showers. Unforecastably it substantially stopped raining by Harrisonburg and by the time we hit Rawley Springs there were shards of sunlight piercing the clouds. It appeared that we had the river to ourselves until we pulled in the normal parking place and found a fisherman's car empty...already on the river. 

James and a nice brokie

We geared up, happy to do so dry and picked our way 300 yds back dodging trucks on the narrow road.  There was alot of water in the low area and we were almost tricked by one of the false streams, we stayed on task and made it to the main flow where we usually start.  The main channel was visible, but water spilled everywhere in this low bank area and the current in the main seam made floating dry flies nearly impossible.  Improbably I caught a  small brookie in the tempest-churn but that was not to be the pattern for the day.

The tree pool produced a brookie for James

 James and I moved up the river and targeted breaks in the river where the flow slowed enough for a fly (and hopefully a trout) to linger.  We each caught a couple and James caught one nice one as we approached the bridge where we paused to have lunch.  I did manage to find some fishable water and was really was trying everything I could think of and the bite was just not there.  We approached the big lake-pool with high hopes at 1300 and saw some fish rising.  We worked the pool methodically but couldn't entice them to play with us.  I moved up the long-wide run above the pool and saw a small brookie rising repeatedly to a hatch I couldn't see on the left bank.  I determined to catch this trout I stripped off my old leader and tied on a fresh-straight-unmarred leader and a #18 BWO parachute. I made a slow approach and a long cast and caught him on my second try.

BWO Brookie!

My spirits lifted out of proportion to the 5 inch brookie I moved up stream with renewed purpose.  I got turbulent again so I changed to a thing-a-mabobber and a # 18 Prince nymph and picked up another three in quick succession and then the action slowed to a stop. As we moved up the stream by the cliffs me met a two meat eaters fishing down towards us and knew that what little chance we had upstream was done.  We slogged through the woods to 33 and Clifford.   Next trip here I''m going to focus on the outflow from the reswevoir where its a higher gradient stream than the valley-flow right along 33.

Dumb as a stump

Fritz out fishes me consistently, Scott casts far better and also outfishes me.  James knows more about water flow than I do and Bryan can seemingly catch trout on anything with a few strands of bucktail so I finally found a fishing pal on par with me.  Sammy, my steadfast Lab.   She was so happy to join me.  As I tied on a fresh leader Sammy lay between my knees, content and idyllic, only later did I realize that she'd busied herself eating at least a cup of dirt.   Dumb as a stump my new companion.

I caught 6 trout w/in view of the 2nd bridge

  It was 65 and sunny when I pulled into the camping area at the 2nd Rapidan Bridge.   The water was perfect at 47 degrees and slowly warming in the sun.  I caught my first fish on my third cast and knew it was going to be one of those days. 

  The trout were alive in every hole, run and riffle.  At first they only wanted nymph droppers but a hatch appeared at noon and by 1300 50% of the takes were on the dry and it didn't seem much to matter which dry as long as it floated high.  I had the most action I suppose on a Mr. Rapidan parachute that Fritz had given me for Christmas.  .

  I learned alot today by slowing down and really working each stretch rather than feeling like I had any place I needed to get to.   The fish flit and flittered in the pools and I really worked my positioning to make my presentations as drag free as possible. 

  I didn't have to share any pools with Sammy and she generally stayed behind me on the bank waiting for me to move another 10 feet.  I did take a spill and my Orvis 2wt became a six-piece rod instead of 4. After collecting myself and making sure all my parts were still semi-functional I hiked back to the car for a spare rod...and Motrin....always bring a spare and lots of motrin.

Sammy and I fished until  1500 and came out between tree marker 9 and 10.  Scott will remember the gorgeous pool below tree marker 9....awesome.  I picked up 27 bottles and cans on the way out and saw a dozen fisherman who I hadn't seen all day making the best out of the spring day.   I'm not sure how they did but I was still catching at a good rate when I left....one of those amazing days.

They loved the nymphs early in the day

Watching over a pool for me

Fastty brookie

resting against my knee after a release -- all fish returned to their pools today

test yourself...can you see the trout?