In snowy NH Henry and I surveyed the abnormally warm week ahead and knew it would mean warming water and the prospect of activating mountain trout. It turns out that they never really turned on as their biological clocks hadn't caught up to the 53 degree water and 70 degree days, but we still had a great time.
We started our adventure at Junction Pool and walked down past the ford for another 4-5 minutes to where the gradient mellowed and the steep walls flatten as the Rap flows into Graves Mill Valley. We were early and knew the best fishing would be between 1100-1700 but couldn't help ourselves and started fishing the clear plunge pools of this lower section at 0915.
The water was low and the sun had yet to penetrate the tight valley when we stopped to collect ourselves after an hour of little action. We enjoyed a good sit on a rock with a plunge pool upstream while we trimmed leaders and re-rigged Henry's 7'10" 1-oz Orvis 'Ultra-fine', he'd been working a long leader and wasn't getting any line out to load the rod. As we lounged on the rock 1100 approached Hen took a seated cast at the pool at feet and after a second of drift his Mr. Rapidan Dry dipped sideways below the surface, Hen lifted his tip setting the hook in the jaw of a lovely spotted, fat 8' brookie.
With spirits raised we had great fishing for about 90-minutes until we reached the ford where it slowed. After 90-min of frustratingly slow fishing we came upon another pair of fisherman who had jumped in front of us! I was not happy, but at least we knew why the fishing had slowed and we pushed passed them back to the jeep an Junction Pool. We jeeped up to the TU Parking lot and hopped back in the water where we fished toward net pool on the right hand side of the road. I don't fish this section of the Rapidan frequently and was really pleased to see the lovely pools on this side.
The trout were striking 90% of the time on droppers, a #20 beadhead prince hung on 6x was the top producer, but we kept on dries savoring those far between surface strikes. We really had to work for our fish today, but the 17 out of the 20 trout brought to hand were in the 6-9" range, good size for high mountain brookies. We'll be back!
Henry and I grabbed a mid-day fishing opportunity on Wedesday and re-learned that fishing is great but not nearly as fun as fishing + catching! With the weather and water both hovering in the early 40's we were stymied by the cold. We had several hookups on midge droppers and I had three top water strikes during 20 minutes of surface activity and then there was ...nothing. We did have a great time and commend Bagel Meister in Phoenix, MD as a great breakfast meeting spot, but the fish were not playing today.
Anxious to get on the water and get away from D.C. on Inauguration Day Fritz, James and I set out on wet roads for an adventure to the Delayed Harvest Section (DHS) of the North River West of Bridgewater, Va. North River had been on my list for a year and the DHS is a 1-mile tail-water between the bottom discharge dam at Elkhorn Lake and Staunton Reservoir. My hope was that the bottom release dam would add consistent trout friendly water and that Elkhorn lake would serve as a buffer to rain. Turns out I was right on both. The flow was optimum and running at a winter-warm 46.👍
James and Fritz atop the dam with Elkhorn Lake and the WV Ridgeline behind them
With Fritz driving and a worn Delorme in my lap we found our way to the headwaters of Elkhorn Lake in about 3 hours. The section of North River that flows down the VA/WV border and feeds Elkhorn is supposedly good native Brookie territory and will get its chance soon too. We found the parking area at the head of Elkhorn, geared up in the rain and drained our last drops of coffee before the .5-mile walk along the southern side of the lake toward the dam. We'd heard this section was decent sized trout water for the VA Mtns so we took an assortment of rods not knowing exactly what to expect. Expecting to thrown tandem nymphs under an indicator I decided on a stiff TFO 8' 2wt, Fritz a 7'6" 4wt and James his trusty 7'6" 3wt.
What a sledding hill this would have made! Fritz and James head down
It was a chilly and damp walk in the rain to the spillway and I thought of Camas Creek as I headed down to the spillway. We noted the spillway pool BLOG-chatter claimed always held trout to our delight saw trout suspended in the pool.
trout, bass, river suckers, pan fish this discharge pool held them all
After a few strikes in the spillway pool we decided to walk down the stream-side trail and fish back up to the pool. I thought the trail led all the way to Staunton Reservoir, but it turns out that it ended after about half a mile.
DHS between the two reservoirs the trail ends at the 90 degree bend midway between
With James and Fritz catching up I examined the forest, the rock ledges carved by the rivers constant cutting and the beauty of it all. Fritz had seen nesting Bald Eagles at the car and attuned to their presence I smiled as one dropped down into the riverbed and swooped ahead alighting on a branch down river.
When we reached the end of the streamside trail James decided to fish up from there and Fritz and I resolved to head down stream toward Staunton Reservoir. We followed deer trails, broke brush, hit a few pools and finally came to the top of Staunton reservoir.
Top of Staunton Reservoir and our furthest point downriver
View from the bottom looking back into the Special Regs/Delayed Harvest Area
To our delight and frustration 10-12 Bows and 2 brookies made this large rock their home-base
I approached from the farside while Fritz roll casted from the near bank using the current to carry his wholly bugger into between the rock (see above) and the bank... bam rainbow-on.
In the pod in front of us were a dozen rainbows and 2 somewhat larger white-finned brookies, for near an hour, Fritz and I crept and crawled bloody through the thorny bank trying our best to entice another trout to hand to no avail. After nodding respectfully to these finicky stockers we began our trek upstream to close with James.
We found James just upstream of a gorgeous bend pool bisected by a large trunk splitting the pool, another 12-15 trout were in the pool and as the afternoon had warmed to a super comfortable 60 degrees the trout turned on eating emergers coming off the cobble strewn bottom.
Here I am drifting my split shot-weighted fly under the log to the feeding station
We all enjoyed hook-ups and talking each other onto trout...steady...steady...to the left...here he comes..now.now...set the hook, but Fritz was the only one to come away with a bow, see video below.
With the shadows starting the creep up the river valley we decided to fish our way back up and call it day. I'll come back here again (can't abide being skunked on such lovely water) and next time I'll be sure to work the North River above where it enters Elkhorn Lake as well.
23. I suppose if you're a Chicago Bulls fan that number brings back warm memories of days gone by when Michael Jordan ran up and down the hardwoods on his way to six NBA titles. But 23 doesn't always carry that warm and fuzzy connotation. With my trout calendar restricted to but a handful of adventures per year - Georgia during JROTC Leadership Academy, New Hampshire in summer, and Virginia over Christmas break, I'm at the mercy of the weather gods whenever I head out from Florida. On this trip the gods chose to not cooperate. 23 degrees plus a wind chill pushing temps into the teens mixed with snow flurries -- a regular winter wonderland!
Thanks to Matt for leaving behind his Jeep while he was enjoying time with his family in New Hampshire, but that meant I was flying solo for two days between Christmas and New Years. My two targets - Beaver Creek and the Rose River.
Did I mention it was friggin' cold! Hand warmers, thermal socks, gloves all sound and look good, but toes and fingers get numb fast, painfully fast at times. That said, I was bound and determined to make the most of my two trips on the water.
Beaver Creek has long been a favorite of mine. It's a bit of a drive, but it can produce some impressive fish. I wanted to use my dad's Orvis bamboo fly rod for a couple of reasons -- nostalgia of memories of my dad fishing and the old school sense of fishing with it. About the fly rod, I queried Jim West, the resident historian of Orvis fly rods who sent me this -- "Rod is an 8’ 2pc. 13 ferrule which is a slow 7wt. made 11-26-1965 by Bill Young and George Reed sold 12-17-1965 to MacCallum’s Boat House looks like EpsornNH." My dad won it in a fishing contest back in the 60s,,, how awesome is that? Now many would argue that rod belongs on a wall to be looked at only, but I can't think of a better way to pay homage to the man who got me into the sport than by using it every chance I get (I just better not break it!). So after a couple hours of no action and having lost all sensation in my toes and fingers by now, I was about to pack it in when I walked past an elevated bank and saw a few small trout below. Then I saw a big guy cruise past and disappear. I maneuvered back upstream, found an opening through the bushes and laid out a few casts downstream toward the area by the bank. WHAM! (not George Michael - may he rest in peace), but a jolt that immediately brought life back to my fingers and toes. Fish on!
Some may consider a one fish day a bad day on the water -- not so! I could have fished that hole a bit longer, and possibly hooked a fish or two more, but I couldn't think of a better way to end my day than a "last cast, last fish" moment.
Day 2 turned colder than the first! When you no longer fish as often as you used to I think some of your fishing instincts fade away. Winter fishing rule #1 -- the fish will generally feed during the warmer part of the day. Why I pressed hard to be on the water early each morning in hindsight wasn't the best call.
On the Rose, this proved true as the few hookups in the morning transformed into more regular bent rods in the afternoon. In between sessions, I stripped out of my waders, turned the Jeep on and blasted the heat until my toes finally regained some feel. I decided to rig two rods -- one for streamers and one for nymphing since changing back in forth is a a pain even in the best of conditions, but when your fingers aren't fully working it made sense. Water was low and typical drift lanes barely moved the nymphs so I switched primarily to swinging streamers in the big pools (plus that meant using the bamboo rod most of the time).
Taking quality pictures and shooting video proved challenging in these conditions as well.
I hooked a dozen or so rainbows in the afternoon. Though two pools provided steady action, I ventured down to the end of the river and set a goal of catching a trout in each pool before moving up to the next stretch of the river. Both a black/olive and a white woolley bugger seemed to produce the best results. I used a sinking line which I beleive made a big difference in putting the flies on the bottom quickly
As the sun started moving behind the hills it was time to pack it up once again. My takeawys from this latest venture:
1. One beautiful fish can make an entire day worthwhile.
2. Rigging two rods is a pretty good idea when switching between nymphing &swinging streamers.
3. Fish low and slow is the key. You cannot fish slow enough.
4. Hitting the water mid-late morning is plenty early enough in the winter. Fish bite mid-day.
5. Fishing in bitter cold is better than not fishing at all!
Thanks again Matt for use of your Jeep. Until next time.
Matt and James with the Stocked section of NFM in the background
No exploration of VA blue line trout streams is complete without a thorough examination of the North Fork Moormans (NFM) River. I'd fished NFM twice before, the first time with Fritz years ago and again last Spring when I was washed-out after a few brookies after a long day scouting blue lines.
Moormans has four fishable sections; the first is stocked trophy-trout water managed by the Thomas Jefferson Chapter of TU located just below the Charlottesville Reservoir at the end of RR 614, this section can be accessed with a 45.00 annual pass anglers can pick up at Albemarle Angler. As we jeeped toward the resevoir we pulled off to survey one of the TU named pools and 'Flat Pool' was alive with stocked trout cruising just below the tannin-stained water. It was all I could do not to throw a fly and pay my pass fee later! The second is the South Fork of Moormans which descends into Charlottesville Reservoir from the West, its a small stream without enough drainage area to support much flow or many trout. The third section is the lowest section of the NFM and is located immediately above the reservoir, this section is stocked and has pools and rocks as popular with the UVA coed crowd as they are with anglers. Upstream of where Black Rock Gap Road crosses NFM for the third time begins the native-brookie fishing and our target for the day.
This is gorgeous water draining an isolated and remote valet which runs North-South paralleling Skyline just to the West. The length of this watershed allows NFM to aggregate smaller blue lines (Pond Ridge Branch, Big Branch, Shop Run, and Little Branch Run to name a few) along its course and hold viable water year round. Black Rock Gap Road continues to parallel NFM so just keep walking to get to less and less travelled water.
We began fishing about 10 minutes upstream from Sketch pool at 38.151759, -78.749555 and ended our day at 38.165445, -78.744546 where Big Branch spills into NFM.
The view from NFM as Big Branch's 4 waterfalls spill in
In my anxiousness to fish I frequently beat the sun's warming rays on winter mornings and such was the case today. We'd hiked in and were ready to fish at 0930, but the sun hadn't yet joined us in this narrow valley and though we found some perfect water the fish were slow to activate in the 48 degree water. By 1030 the sun was warming the water and the fish became more active. Here's James (below) questioning the upper reaches of Long Pool.
Rivers captivate me as do the colors of these brookies.
The warmer it got the more it seemed the trout were in there normal holding spots and we approached each pool slowly after several clumsy approaches scattered trout at our feet...don't step in a pool you want to fish if you can avoid it.
This superfine fellow fell for a grey-bodied parachute adams -- he stopped splashing for a moment to pose for the photo
We removed our droppers and team fished dries, leap-frogging pools. With a good sized coyote critiquing our casting from a streamside finger we settled into lunch atop a sun-bathed rock and counted our blessings. 1500 found us tired and at Big Branch. I didn't think we would make it this far but we must have moved a bit more quickly than I thought. James explored up NFM for another 50 m while I was determined to add another stream to by blue lines ledger and was really happy to catch this colorful character (see below) in the plunge pool of the second falls. Next trip I'll walk up to Big Branch (50-min direct walk from parking) and fish up from there.
