Big Doings on the Shad Run

Lifetime memories made on the Shad Run

It's a treat to introduce someone you care about to one of your favorite fishing experiences, and so it was for Henry and I, after a monster day on the shad run on Saturday, to bring Izzy to the rodeo on Sunday. 

Hen points from casting rock to the strike zone

The Shad weren't as aggressive, but they were still running by our feet in untold multitudes as we pushed into the current on slippery rock-perches leaning from Fredericksburg toward eagles nests and osprey perches on the Falmouth side.    

Early sun rise over Falmouth, VA

The streamer of choice was a Fritz-inspired #6 streamer 1x hook w a short white maribou tail, a body of red chenille, heavy dumbbell eyes w a bit of flash worked into the body.  




Izzy, perched mid-flow on our casting rock hooked 8-10 shad before she got the rhythm of hookset and retrieve and had a wide and warm Ritchie smile on her bright face as she brought to hand her first unassisted Shad.  

Izzy backs and glory (and dries off) after her first shad

What a treat for Henry and I. Interspersed with Izzy refining her technique  were moments of wonder and humor.  When rays of sun peaked through the clouds they illuminated swarms of shad right at our feet staging in holding water before racing up the next chute.   For anyone, but for Izzy in particular, it was amazing to see the shad massed inside her pole tip.  

 This shad video is amazing

Dad-help-sacrifice led to great humor as Hen, in an attempt to free Izzy's snag, tipped off the casting rock and like batman diving off a Gotham skyscraper plunged into the main channel up to his neck no doubt concerning the shad as well.  Heroically holding Izzy's 50.00 rod high and safe he lost his grip on his expensive Sage-Orvis outfit into the swift flow as his waders filled and he was swept toward the rapids.  After choice exclamations commingled with nervous laughter from Izzy and I (and shouts of worry from an upstream angler) his toes found purchase on hidden rocks and he angled his way to safety.   Once we knew all were safe and we couldn't get any wetter :-) we saw Henry's fluorescent yellow line glistening in the black water and were able to catch the line with a boot toe and pull line, rod and reel back to safety.  Rod recovery compete, we made our way back to dry rocks to regroup and only then as Hen started to emerge from the water did we realize that his waders keep water in as well as they keep water out!  Picture a water balloon filled to its max.   Hen + water must have weighted +600 lbs and he needed to flip onto his back on a rock and raise his legs to allow the trapped water to gush out and lighten the load.   What a day and memories.

Our kit needed a bit of drying out once home!

Alighting on the film

Heaven has got to be like April on a VA trout streams.  Stream temps in the low 50s, clear running water incubating bugs to life and causing brook trout to look up for their next meal.   They are so eager to slurp the hatch from the film of the surface...it's a show to watch. 

Low Water in the log pool

With a Friday off I headed to my home waters of the upper Rapidan and was pleased to find only a truffle hunter parked at the upper limit of the fire road.   I was greeted by a swarm of flies as I started rigging a trusty 2wt built for casting in these narrow confines.   I didn't tie on a dropper as is my habit and was rewarded with amazing dry fly action for my stay.    

Tight casting required in this crystal clear pool

The Glide Run is one of the loveliest on the Upper Rapidan

The flow was low this high on the mountain and the dry spring caused the trout to be staged in the pools not the normal holding runs... so I went pool hunting.   I soon was reminded to approach each pool stealthily as a spooking even the bottom/near side of the pool would decrease me chances throughout the pool.   

With no schedule to keep I approached each pool slowly and really worked on alighting my fly first cast in the right spot with the right presentation and brought brilliant brookies to hand in 7 of the first 10 pools before I stopped counting and let the morning flow through me.  I watched in wonder as brookies submarine-porpoised 2-3 inches out of the water attacking their surface meals.   All my brookies were caught on a single warrior of a parachute-adams before the hackle was torn off and I retired.  An amazing day in an amazing place.

Swarms of trout food!

                          "The older I get the more I strive to spend time in beautiful places that inspire me"

                                                                                                                            said some angler

Nymphing darts on the Run

          The Shad run has yet to be steady.  The run has only been thick one day thus far.   My seventh trip was greeted by snow squalls and falling temps, grey sky and gusty winds breeding shivers.  I had to really work for my fish. Resident shad were in the usual holding water in small numbers and after moving around I finally found shad in one of the lower (bridge-side) deep slots of holding water.             
          Swinging streamers didn't work today and the best presentation was to cast upstream of your target water and nymph these heavy shad-dart-type flies back through the target following the fly with rod tip until the fly rides up at the end of the drift.  All in all a great day to be out on the river corralling these silver swimmers.

The Best things in Life are the People we love...

The Places we've been,

 the Rivers we've fished 

and 

the memories made along the way

Shad arrive at the Rappahanock Fall-Line

The slot size on this run was really nice, the colors were amazing

Fritz and I had a combined 7 recon-trips to the Falmouth Fall line on the Rappahanock waiting for the Spring Shad run to begin.  We knew one of these days we'd find shad in numbers and today was the day...the poor man's tarpon had arrived.  Its easy to see why once folks thought there was an inexhaustible supply of these silver swimmers and there was no way to even estimate the pulses of them as they finned past our feet.  They weren't quite as aggressive as we've seen in past years, perhaps that will change later in the run.  Fritz, James and I had to work for our fish.  The best way to bring them to hand today was dead drifting (nymphing really) small, weighted red and silver shad flies on a sinking leader and then just waiting for the line to tighten.  If you're fly is above these aqua-athletes its just casting practice.  If you want to hit Shad with us in the next 20 days give me a holler.  With Osprey, and Eagles watching we kept remarking what a perfect day it was.

Fritz pulled many from this upper-island pool

Fritz caught this Large American Shad, deeper but less athletic from than today's hickory shad

Fritz and James work the top of the island pool at the Falmouth Fall-line

Love these guys! 

B&B Family -- All Over the Water

What a wonderful time of the year for the Brookies and Bronzeback Team.   Last week Fritz and brother Paul nailed bull, redfish, amberjack and speckled trout in LA where the Mississippi runs into gulf! Two days ago Henry worked the Gallatin River in near Big Sky bringing to hand a grand slam or browns, bows, cutts and white fish and now the shad are here in force here in Northern Virginia.

Paul and Fritz and AmberJack

Hen and Family w a new snowy brown on the Gallatin

I hadn't been back to the Piney River in years, my last trip there was with Scott before he headed to Florida.    It's a place with nice memories.    Its hard to access with only a single bridge-side parking spot then a climb over a forbidding fence to reach the public SNP right of way.   A .3 mile brings you past the private cottages and to the SNP trail pillar.  Another 5 Min upstream brings you to a river gauge station.    Use this water gauge as a catching feature and force yourself to walk another 15-min past beautiful water before you drop in.  The further you walk the greater the fish density.

This beauty was caught by James on his last  cast of the day!

Spring has Sprung

Things are looking up to include this spec

Every Spring my soul anticipates the start of trout season.  There's a sense of longing that's only quenched with a spring brookie in hand.  In mountain streams catch and release waters the start isn't marked on a calendar, it's
when the water pushes 41-42 degrees, usually in the first week of March. With forsythia blooming and red-budded branch trips ready to burst their winter shackles I decided to hit my home waters of the Rapidan.

The water above the second bridge is amazing

As I jeeped around a familiar bend in Criglersville I glimpsed a full pool on the Rose, but I knew my destination waters would be a fishably lower a thousand feet up the Shenandoah Ridgeline.   I love the process of getting to the river and sipped coffee as James and I crept up the deeply-rutted Rapidan Fire Road noting new trees chain sawed across the road and rock slides.  Normal cars don't make this trip.  People would be normal(er) if they did.  Descending the switchbacks we found three trucks at Junction Pool, a gang of grey-haired children gearing up.   

My destination waters were above the second bridge.  Scott taught me that the steep terrain there keeps less hearty anglers from questioning its narrow walls and the river sees less pressure.  The holes are to die for.  Fly-fishing in this stretch is alot about rock scrambling and unlocking the beautiful mysteries of the next pool.

We geared up with 2 and 3 wts and high hopes.   The cold water soothed deep knee bends and we found small black stoneflies creeping on rocks and brook trout stirring from their winter lethargy.   As the sun peeked down over the high ridge line surface strikes increased, but the majority of the takes were on size 18/20 BH droppers suspended under dries. 



This wasn't a day for long casts, but more for micro swings and placement into quiet water giving the dropper an opportunity to fall to depth rather than being trailed through the froth and current.   "Watch you drag", "rod tip up",  "line off the water" and "that's a fish" were our refrains.  

View from below the 'log-pool' ref below, the trout hit about 4' in front of me

We lunched on PB&Js and pretzels in a setting I wouldn't have traded and leapfrog-fished all the way up to the Rapidan Cabins.   I thought I'd caught my last trout and wasn't planning on taking another cast when James scooted ahead determined to catch one more.  I chased him and found a newly created log-pool stretching the
width of the river creating a 3 foot waterfall along its length.   I LOVE standing below a waterfall and fishing chest-level into the pool.  With cold silvery water finding a hole in my waders (I was deep) I lower my sight line
just a few inches above the pool and watched my dry in profile.   When the small trout lifted 2" out of the water to snatch my dry I gave a whelp of joy and hustled him in, only to find another larger trout on my dropper!  A
double on my last cast.   With that great memory we called it a day and made our way back to the muddy jeep.