Dry River to Skidmore Fork

Start Pool for this fish, caught 4 trout along right side

There may be a more perfect brook trout stream in Virginia than Dry River and if there is I’d like to find it as I’m not sure I’d come back (ok: I’d come back once a week).   Scott and I fished the Dry last week and promised to come back soon to fish upstream from last week’s upper limit.  Upstream did not disappoint. To begin with some housekeeping, the ‘Dry’ is the major tributary of the North River (by Rawley Springs) according to some pleasant local hunters and is primarily (75%) fed by Skidmore Fork which is a tailwater of a nearby reservoir.

First Brookie of the day

 I parked on the right hand side of Rt 33 opposite the gated-entrance to Dry Run Road (Scott will remember this as the road we walked out on last trip). It was 35 and warming as I rigged up my Cabelas mid-flex 3 wt with a Sz 16 parachute adams and a Sz 20 pheasant tail nymph dropper on 6X.  I walked down the fire road and came to the pool which was the furthest advance of our last trek and noted the beautiful fall leaves encased in a thin layer of ice in protected nooks.

Icy water in the still shallows

 To my delight the sun had begun to warm the surface and a small hatch was luring trout to the surface to feed, dimples on the surface every few seconds.  I stayed in this lower pool for a few minutes, had a nerve-slamming surface strike on my second cast and a slippery-cold brookie to hand on my fourth. The river was beautiful (yes Tim: gin clear) as I moved upstream and struck me as being bigger, less technical water than the downstream ½ mile we’d explored last week.  It had long deep (rather still) pools along the base of rocky cliffs and fewer heavily forested riffle-runs.

Seat of solitude...the perfect perch..see the high cliff ledge defining the hole

 I targeted the tails of the pools and the feeder runs with hook-ups in the likely spots.  12 out of the 18 fish to hand were surface strikes on the adams, it was fun to see the fish on the surface in the cold weather. I fished for 2½ hrs for about a ½ mile until Skidmore fork joined the dry from the left, a mountain stream climbing toward the reservoir.  The right hand fork of the Dry (smaller) looked like it continued to roughly parallel 33 but had only barely fishable flow.

Good sized mature brookie in full colors

I could hear 33 to my right so I walked out and found myself only about 150 yards from the road.  I emerged by a red gate on the right-hand side of the road, so next time I’ll walk in from here and explore the next upstream section (Skidmore Fork) as it ascends towards the damn.  I love this river.

One the fewer riffled sections of the upper Dry...doesn't much prettier than this

Skidmore Fork is on the left Dry River ebbs off to the right behind the log on right

Anything but a Dry River

Brookie au natural @ Dry River

Scott had explored Dry River several times, so on our way to West Virginia we decided to hit it together for a few hours.  Dry River is located a stretch west of Harrisonburg alongside Rt 33 in the George Washington National Forest before it ascends the first mountain ridge into West Virginia.  Where we fished it it’s actually a tail-water providing a baseline cold flow year-round. We fished a ½ mile in an upper section but there was at least another mile upstream of where we exited (towards the dam) and our suspicion is that that area (owing to its relative inaccessibility) must be great fishing.  We parked at one of the many cutouts off 33, Scott rigged his Orvis Superfine 7'6" 1 wt and I rigged my 2 wt rod and we trekked 100 yards through the woods to a marshy section.  Even though the surrounding forest was soggy, the stream was well defined and downed trees and heavy cover made for small pools and protected runs requiring planned approaches and delicate casts. 
We had fish on within the first 5 minutes.

The Dry at this point is not a Shenandoah style plunge-pool stream, but a heavily forested, gentle gradient stream 10-15 feet wide and 6-18 inches deep.   Throwing small dries and tiny droppers we began to pick up small, gorgeous, hungry native Brook Trout immediately. 

After experimenting, the best set-up was a size 16 Purple Parachute Adams with a  trailer 18 inches behind of a size 20 pheasant tail nymph.  Most of these water-color beautiful brookies were in the 3-5 inch range, but as we leapfroged upstream scouting for each other we  found larger brookies waiting in ambush. At one point as we stealthfully cast from bent knee I caught a 3-inch brook which was ambushed by a 12-13 inch brookie who materialized 5 feet in front of  me.  Scott and I both witnessed the splashing melee and will remember it as a treat worth the drive!  Throughout our 3 hours on the Dry we had multiple doubles and marveled at each turn as yet another pool or run awaited our flies.  Not sure when – but we’ll be sure to come back.

Without overstating the fact, the Dry River is one of Virginia's top native brook trout waters.

Knapp Creek 2013 ~ Awesome

Trusty Matt-tied Golden Retriever

Scott met Mark Mitchell in the store 2 years ago and last year Mark invited Scott to his home in Marlinton, WV for two days of fishing. Scott, being the good soul that he is (or maybe he just tolerates me ‘as a carry me out of the river insurance policy’) asked if I could tag along and so began the blessing which is Mark Mitchell and the gem of a stream (Knapp Creek) that flows beside his family home in Marlinton. Mark invited Scott (and I) again this past week and we jumped at the opportunity, you see, Mark stocks his limited access section of creek with rainbows whose purpose in life seems to be putting a permanent smile on all those lucky enough to fish there.

Scott and I had began the day in NOVA, then hit Dry River then made our way up and over another 4 ridge lines west into West Virginia and hit Knapp Creek at 1530. Being familiar with the creek from last year’s adventure we waded the horseshoe ending up at Mark’s home racing the darkening shadows that chased us as the sun disappeared over the ridge and the cool November air turned cold. The river cobble & slate-slab creek was gin clear and 6-8 inches lower than we remembered it channelizing the rainbows in identifiable pools and runs. We began picking up 13-14 inch rainbows in the first pool and darkness settled before the bite stopped in an awesome late afternoon of fishing.

I used a recently tied golden retriever on a size 12/ 3x streamer hook for all the fish I caught. Scott had equal enjoyment using an old Orvis family heirloom bamboo fly rod his dad won in a New Hampshire fishing tournament in 1964. Its full flex action gave him some casting exercise and required a Paul Bunyan sized hook set, but he didn’t seem to care as he brought in the trout... old school fishing tackle.

4 pools above Mark’s house at the upper honey hole on the straightaway I hooked into a 21” 5 lb rainbow that has etched a permanent grin on my face. Thanks Mark! He was so big that I couldn’t hold him with two hands and had to press him against my breadbasket to restrain him for the obligatory trophy picture. After the sun set we ate at a local diner (Dorries …have the hot roast beef sandwich) and retired to Mark’s for MNF a warm fire and a few beverages. Tuesday morning began with coffee and another run of the horseshoe. Scott’s luck, good on the first day, was even better the second and using a familiar Orvis Access 4wt and a white wolly bugger began an

epic 5 hour stretch of rainbow success. I switched later to white buggers when it was apparent that they were the ticket but the big fish and numbers on day two belonged to Scott. By my count he had 2 +18 inch trout and another one that was every bit as big as my monster (20"+) a day earlier. Funny – I tried to net two of his fish and my net was too small -- even curved/folded over the net wouldn’t hold these monsters! True to form (when we’re lucky) we both caught a fish on our final casts and scaled the river at Mark’s house concluding an unforgettable two day span of fishing.

Scott's river monster ~ Jeremy would be proud!

 

Orvis Trout School on the Rose River

 Orvis Woodbridge hosted a one day Trout School on the Rose River this past Wednesday and I worked as the lead instructor & guide for the event.  Assisted by Trent Jones, the fishing manager from the Orvis Bethesda store, and John Ridley, a highly accomplished local trout fly fisherman, we instructed and guided 8 fly anglers for a day on the scenic Rose River.
The weather couldn't have been any nicer and with the Shenandoah Mountains in their full fall splendor, the setting was ideal for a terrific day on the water.

I had the pleasure of guiding for Bob B., Jim R., and Rick N., who all proved to be solid trout fishermen throughout the day.  We fished nymphs under an indicator, swung streamers down and across the stream, and drifted dry flies when we spotted some surface activity.  Everyone caught some beautiful rainbows.  Jim's top fly was a #6 copper on copper Kreelex I tied the night before, while Bob and Rick found success with a #14 Parachute Adams dry fly.  Check out some of their pics below.

Bob and Rick working the opposite bank for some holding rainbows.

Jim casting streamers down a swift moving riffle where he landed a couple of nice rainbows.

Fish on !
Rick with a nice hook up of a hard-fighting rainbow.

.... does it get any better? Rick holding a beautiful trout.

Bob was stalking a particular rising trout when it smacked his perfectly placed cast of a #14 Parachute Adams.

Rose River rainbows are hard fighting and beautiful as Bob discovered.







At the end of the day after the trout school was concluded, I grabbed my fly rod and went stalking of some big brook trout that I heard were in the river.  After finding a nice run that had trout rising to tiny mayflies, I tied on a #18 Parachute Adams and was rewarded this this beautiful male (notice the kype jaw) brook trout.

... what a great day!

... what a great sport!

Casting 4 Recovery on the Rose River

One of the terrific things about my line of work are the opportunities presented before me.  This past Sunday I provided fly casting instruction and guided for a group of breast cancer survivors and their family members at a Casting 4 Recovery fundraising event at Rose River Farms.  For anyone unfamiliar with this organization, in a nutshell, it provides  emotional healing for breast cancer survivors through the sport of fly fishing. 

With the help of Kaitlin from Orvis Woodbridge, spent the day teaching these wonderful folks (many whom had never had a fly rod in their hand) how to cast, catch and release fish.  We met some terrific ladies over the course of the day and look forward to supporting them again in the future.

Another Rapidan Convert

My friend James and I were looking for a time to fish and this Friday turned out to be the day (a cast-out goes to Fritz and Scott ...wish you were with us). 

I was introducing James to Mtn Brook trout fishing so there was no question in my mind that we'd head to the Upper-upper Rapidan.  We had an uneventful drive in Clifford and didn't see a soul until we hit the campsites just down-stream from the Marine Cabins where a large camping group had taken up residence for the weekend, as it turned out they were more interested in their fire and sipping suds than fishing (Phew....had me worried for a minute).  We parked at the park gate, rigged up with standard dry-dropper tandems (elk hair caddis and a hares-ear for me & a parachute

adams and a pheasant tail for James) and made our to the stream just upstream from the pump-house. The temps were in the low forties, the wind blustery, the water at mid-level, cold and crystal clear....cold for us, but perfect for brookies.  We fished together, pool hopping and talking tactics and presentation.  After reacquainting ourselves with small-stream drift/drag, casting and line maintenance issues we began picking up fish in the usual spots.  The fishing was slow, but dragless drifts in non-spooked pools stood a 50% chance of a soft strike. 

We exited the river about 2/3 of the way to the Brown House, stashed our gear and walked 10 minutes to show James President Hoover's Retreat.  We lucked out as there was a volunteer docent there who let us in and was happy to share her knowledge. The Brown house was simple and elegant, I loved it.  After 30 minutes at the camp and having admired both Mill Prong and Laurel Prong we returned to Clifford concluding out trip.  A great day and hopefully a new convert to the beauty of the Rapidan.

Nothing prettier than fall brookies

Fall foliage in the George Washington National Forest is breathtaking.  Add in a gin clear, cool running mountain stream and it gets even more beautiful.  Now pile on top of that a size #16 Parachute Adams drifting naturally through a likely fish holding hole, then suddenly a native brook trout rushes from the stream bottom busting the water's surface engulfing that mayfly imitation.  Talking about spectacular beauty-- it really doesn't get any better.

 My friend Paul and I fished the Dry River not far from the West Virginia state line the other day in search of native brookies on dry flies.  This was Paul's first crack at fly fishing for brook trout and I found myself watching and reflecting when I first started fishing these mountain streams in search of these prized little gems that have survived thousands of years in these waters.
Though the water was a little lower and the fish a bit smaller than what we had hoped for, the time spent in this natural setting couldn't be beat.

One dog-gone good fly fishing guide

Earlier in the day we stopped by Beaver Creek to fish for a few hours.  Paul hooked 3 rainbows but none were brought to hand.  After catching a rock bass in the long, slow pool upstream from the elementary school, we bribed a local for some intel on where the fish were holding.  The price was steep (several dog biscuits) but worth it as within minutes of the bribe, Paul hooked into a nice fallfish also known as the freshwater bonefish.



All in all, a great Columbus Day on the water.