Indicator Nymphing Recap: I Had No Idea What I Was Doing

Beautiful day to not catch anything.

Back in February, I launched Last Cast Life as an outlet for all the extra energy I had from learning as much as I could about fishing for trout in my local waters. Before moving to Tennessee in 2018, I'd only fished salt and warmwater species in Florida. I'd fished for trout after moving here, but never really did my homework on how to do so. Because nymphing was the most foreign to me, and because I was getting started in winter, I decided to start with indicator nymphing.

Interestingly enough, my first two outings did not result in skunks. But they were not the result of acquiring skills; they were blind luck. Notice anything these photos have in common? You can see it more in the first photo than the second, but both of these fish were caught on dries. In February.

But my attempts to catch a fish using an indicator nymph rig? Nah, no luck. And it seemed pretty clear to me that either (1) I was not fishing to fish, or (2) I was not detecting strikes. Looking back, I can say now that it was more the former than the latter.

Lesson #1: You Have to Find Fish to Catch Fish

When you're fishing a body of water, it's important to realize that fish are not going to be spread out evenly over what looks like good trout holding water. They're going to pod up and jockey for the best water that they can find. Bigger or more aggressive fish may push others out of prime spots, and they'll redistribute, but when looking for fish, it's important to keep in mind the 80/20 rule. Eighty percent of the fish will be holding in twenty percent of the water (actually, less than that, but you get the idea).

I don't think I truly appreciated the importance of finding fish. I figured, if water looked fishy, it held fish. And, while that can sometimes be true, it's not always. And so rather than moving quickly through water with a searching pattern, I would sit at runs for way too long, convinced that I was doing something wrong and, if I could just get a drift where I did something right, then I'd get a take, I'd detect the strike, and I would learn something.

Lesson #2: Understand What Fish Are Doing

Trout behavior is why fishing for them is so much fun. Trout are finicky. They act way different depending on the time of year, the food available, and the environmental conditions. One thing that I'm still learning is just how far trout will move out of their current position to take a fly. However, I do know now that, in winter, before the major hatches start, trout move very little. They are conserving every ounce of energy, and will not move much to take a tiny nymph.

Not understanding this meant that I was fishing seams in a very general manner. Is the current taking my flies for a ride? Alright, that's good enough. Nope. A seam can be 12-18 inches across, but a winter trout may only take food within 4 inches of its face. As a result, I was not fishing the good water to extent I should have been.

Lesson #3: Wipe Bad Days Off the Books

I made it a point to focus almost exclusively on indicator nymphing. But, sometimes you just need a win, however it comes into your net. So switch to a different presentation style. Get that first fish on the board. If you get skunked, go back out and target another species. By the end of the month, I was feeling frustrated because it didn't seem like I was learning anything. So I chased some warmwater species and broke the skunk.

That's how February panned out. Next week, we'll talk about how March laid the groundwork for some big breakthroughs in April.

One Rod to Fish Them All: Hardy Ultralight LL 9'9" Four Weight

For the past three or four weeks, I've been going back and forth on getting one rod that could replace as many trout rods in my collection as possible. I wanted a rod that could handle dries, dry droppers, indy nymph rigs, tightline nymphing, and even smaller streamers. I want one rod that is not the best at any one style of fishing, but can handle all fairly well. Historically, this has been your nine-foot five weight rod. But lately, the industry has been tinkering with that formula and finding new lengths, weights, and tapers to fit the need for a versatile rod.

After much hemming and hawing, I ended up going with the Hardy Ultralight LL 9'9" in a four weight. Let's get into how I made this decision.

The Waters I Fish

The closest trout water I have consistent access to is considered by many to be one of the toughest tailwaters in the southeastern United States. While the river has stumped me for a lot of years, I don't think it's as tough as its reputation suggests. That said, it is tougher than every other tailwater I've fished in the area. The water in the river is gin clear. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen it anything else. It is fairly slow moving and shallow, and there are not a lot of obstacles that break the surface. There are large stretches where the water is glass-like. Because it is a tailwater, the fish are very well fed and can afford to be picky. While the other tailwaters I fish are not as tough as this one, they share many of the same characteristics: medium to large rivers with selective, large fish.

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, I fish small streams in the southern Appalachians. Here, we find smaller streams with smaller fish. They are not particularly selective as to flies, but they are wild fish with centuries of survival instincts bred into them. Presentations must be well executed, and stealth is required. Casting room is limited by thick rhododendron and low-hanging canopies. The water is incredibly complex, and often very rough and fast, with many seams moving at different speeds. The pools can be very deep and often cut off access to the far bank.

Why a 9'9" (or 10') Rod Length?

Look at this cool nonconformist guy over here. 9'6"? 10'? Nooo sir, can't do that; it's gotta be 9'9". When asked to rank things on a scale of 1-10, I don't go 9 or 10, or even 9.5. I gotta have those .25 increments.

I targeted a ten foot rod mainly for reach. Whether it's getting a bit more distance on a tightline cast, or highsticking over some troublesome current, that extra length matters. And an important thing to note is I'm not actually getting 9 more inches of reach; I'm actually getting exponentially more reach for reasons I don't quite understand, but has to do something with geometry, the weight and nature of fly line and leaders, and some other mysticism known as physics and math.

Other considerations included casting power, important for cutting through heavy wind on my wide open tailwaters, as well as firing dries into brushy areas in the mountain streams. Longer rods also tend to mend and roll cast a little better, two techniques that I lean on heavily.

Why a Four Weight?

This one I probably went back and forth on the most. When I began asking around about rod choices in my area, the responses were pretty much split equally for people not using the typical nine foot five weight. In one camp, nymph-oriented crowd turned to their ten foot three weights for general use. In the other, four weights in anything from 8'6" to ten foot.

I didn't have access to many ten foot four weights, but I did get to cast a number of ten foot three weights. While there weren't many options in my area, the few I did cast seemed more tailored toward tight-line nymphing. While it is something I want to learn, I want as many options first and foremost, and I felt the slower, deeper action of the three weights would be too much of a compromise when fishing with fly line or other presentation styles.

Ultimately, the decision was a bit of a leap of faith. Thankfully, a lot of the Troutbitten crew had similar demands of their rods, and they seemed to also gravitate toward four weights in an article discussing some of their favorites.

Why the Hardy?

There were two resources that were helpful in making the decision to go with the Hardy Ultralight LL. The first was Devin Olson's comparison video on the series of rods. The second was a video series from Nate at Red's Fly Shop showcasing the Hardy as a versatile wader's fly rod, which is exactly the use case I was looking for.

Nate's video was so helpful that I ended up ordering my rod from his shop. It's also worth mentioning that, at the time of this article's publishing, Red's Fly Shop is currently running a promotion where they will include a free fly line with the purchase of any rod over $595.

In the near future, I'll be writing up an article on how I have the rod set up, how I switch between various styles of fishing, and initial thoughts.

A Fly Tying Renaissance: Why the Tungsten Crisis Isn't All Bad

If you haven't heard, tungsten bead prices are through the roof. Turns out, it's useful for a lot of other applications besides making our flies sink faster. Like munitions, electronics, precision manufacturing, and renewable energy. All of these things are experiencing increased demand. And with the orange idiot taking a torch to global trade, our precious little beads are only going to get more expensive before settling at a new normal.

If you haven't already given it a read, I strongly recommend heading over to Feather Craft Fly Fishing, whose blog has a very informative article on why the nature of fly fishing and fly tying is going to change quite a bit moving forward. They make some pretty alarming conclusions, many of which I agree with wholeheartedly. So this is bad, really bad! Right?

Well...maybe not. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I think that the Tungsten Crisis will split the fly fishing world into two camps. One camp will happily or begrudgingly plunk down more cash for their precious tungsten beads. The other camp will look for alternatives, and they will become more versatile, more successful anglers in the process. Because I think that we have leaned way too heavily on beads (tungsten especially), and have forgotten some very important, ancient knowledge that deserves rediscovering.

Beads Haven't Been Around Forever

I recently won a raffle drawing at my local Trout Unlimited chapter meeting. The prize: a

spiral-bound Second Edition copy of Tying Flies with Jack Dennis and Friends, published way back in 1993. Excited to discover some long-lost gems, I started flipping through the pages. I was knee deep in learning as much as I could about indicator nymphing, so I flipped to the section on nymphs and realized something. Where were the bead heads? Back to the table of contents.

One. One pattern. The Bead Head Pheasant Tail Nymph, by Joe Burke. Rather than paraphrase, here's a selection from the book:

"When Mike Lawson drove over ... one of the first things he said was: 'I know you're getting down to the wire on this book, but there was a series of flies that was so deadly for our clients ... that you should really find room for it. They are the bead head flies. You can put a bead head on any nymph and it immediately becomes more effective . . . . We've got reports of guys having the best angling days of their lives . . . . The Bead Head Pheasant Tail Nymph is a last minute addition to this manual. With the remarkable bead head tales that area guides are reporting, it would be a shame to overlook it.

Here it is in 1993! The bead inflection point! It didn't happen with the rise of the industrial era in the 1920s, or the post-WWII boom of the 1950s. Beads made their appearance in the 90s with Bill Clinton, the artist formerly known as Prince, grunge music, and Beavis & Butthead!

Also, just as a side note, if you think fly fishing is hoity-toity today, get a load of this quote from Umpqua:

"At Umpqua, we use a 24K gold plated bead which does not tarnish like the brass beads do. The shiny round head has the same sparkle no matter what angle the fish sees it from."

And the rest is history. Bead head nymph patterns became the norm. Non-beaded or unweighted nymphs became the exception. As a whole, fly anglers are probably catching more fish nowadays thanks to beads. But beads are just a tool; they shouldn't be the entire toolbox. There are some advantages to using lighter flies, whether they are brass beaded, nonbeaded, or unweighted. These include stealthier presentations and more lifelike and responsive movement in the subsurface currents.

How Do We Adapt?

So if we accept that there may be value in finding other ways to get our flies down in the strike zone, as well as incorporating older patterns, what should we do? Here's a short list that I've been able to come up with:

1. Incorporate more wire into your patterns. Explore options such as lead wire, tin wire, lead-free solder, and copper.

   
   

2. Use split shot to make drop-shot rigs or otherwise sink unweighted patterns down faster and provide more natural movement through the water column.

   
   

3. Tie sparser patterns that create less water resistance as they sink.

   
   

4. Use natural and synthetic materials in your flies that retain more water between casts.

   
   

5. Employ tuck casts and other techniques to create more sink time on your drifts.

   
   

6. Improve your line management skills to achieve longer dead drifts and more sink time for your flies.

   
   

7. Look for water features such as plunge pools and eddies that will pull your flies down faster.

   
   

8. Pick up older fly tying books and learn patterns and techniques that may have been lost to the passage of time.

   
   

9. Research trout behavior to learn when and why they may key in on presentations higher in the water column.

   
   

10. And if all else fails, in the immortal words of Letterkenney, figure it out.

So which angler will you be? Will you suck it up and plunk down more of your hard-earned cash for tungsten beads? Or will you commune with the ancestors and look for answers in the past? Speaking only for myself...