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...

Who is Last Cast Alan?

Unlike a lot of people I fish with, I didn't grow up with fishing. My parents were Romanian immigrants, and not at all familiar with the outdoors. I grew up in and around major cities, and it wasn't until my late twenties that I was exposed to country living when I attended law school at Indiana University in Bloomington. While studying for the bar exam, I picked up an Ugly Stik spinning combo and would fish the lake while walking my dog on the trails.

Shortly thereafter, I moved to Miami, made friends with two awesome women who taught me a bit more about fishing. One day, they broke out their fly rods, and I decided to dip a toe into that pool, and instantly got hooked. The complexity, the flies, the direct connection from the fish to the fly to the line in your hand; all of it. I went out and bought a TFO starter kit, and went fishing every chance I could. Peacock bass and other ciclids in the canals, fishing the surf before the beaches got crowded, wading the flats, dodging gators in the Everglades; I just loved being out there. I became an urban angler, always having a rod on me, fishing for whatever would take a fly.

But I wasn't happy in Miami, despite having some incredible friends to fish with, and began looking for greener pastures. In 2018, I packed up my stuff and moved to East Tennessee, swapping out the salt and Everglades for mountains and rivers. I was so excited to explore as much as I could, I didn't really focus on learning how to fish for trout. I split my time between backpacking and fishing, threw some dries or dry droppers, caught a couple fish (mostly by blind luck) and left it at that.

A few years later, COVID hit and I got sick, but worse than most and for a lot longer. After some poking and prodding by some doctors, I was tested for and diagnosed with Lyme Disease. I'd likely had it for years and COVID had brought it to the surface. I went through about half a year of treatment, during which I'd been essentially house-bound. When I came out on the other end, I think I was in a pretty deep funk and, other than an occasional outing, I didn't really fish. I lived a sedentary lifestyle, gained weight, fell out of shape, and likely into depression. Over the following years, my wife would remind me every now and then that it was time to get back out there; that I needed it in so many ways. She was, of course, 100% right, but I think I was in a dark place and just couldn't get it together.

Fast forward to the end of 2025. I'd been diagnosed with ADHD, and with some medication, I was finding it a lot easier to organize my life, set goals for myself, and actually see them through to completion. My wife and I were talking about goals for the new year, and she brought up getting back into fishing. But this time, I was ready to hear it. I had some wins under my belt. Okay, challenge accepted: What should my goals be?

1. Become a competent fly angler.

   
   

2. Become more knowledgeable about my local waters.

Obviously, these were very broad goals, and I wasn't entirely sure how to define them, nevermind meet them. But I knew the only way I'd figure them out is to spend more time on the water. And so I did. And I started making mistakes. And I'd go home and try to come up with ways to fix them. And before long, ADHD hyperfixation kicked in and I was constantly thinking about fishing. Constantly. Keeping me awake at night. I needed something to funnel this off-water energy.

Enter Last Cast Life.

What is Last Cast Life?

I'd been fishing for four hours with no success. I'd look around, see some bugs, maybe a couple fish rising to the surface. Changed flies a couple times. No takes. "Alright, last cast...actually, let me add some split shot real quick." I clamp on a small piece of tin about five inches above my fly. Cast it into a seam and I see my indicator slow down.

"That's it; that's the strike zone slow down I've been hearing about. Maybe just a few more...last casts."

Two hours later, I'm making last casts all the way back to my car.

Last Cast Life is that gravitational force that pulls anglers back to the water. It's the challenges that are encountered, the problem-solving that goes into overcoming them, and the rewards of doing so. It's the idea that there isn't really a true "last cast;" it's just what we say to coax ourselves off the water for the day. And I don't think I've ever gotten off the water the first time I tell myself "Alright Alan, last cast." It takes quite a few.

It's that energy, that lifestyle, that I never want to lose again.

Sure, sure, but what does it all mean, Basil? What do you want Last Cast Life to be?

Great question. Right now, it's a stream of consciousness; a place for me to write about the experiences of being an angler that has decided to commit to perfecting his craft. I'd like this to be the place where I explain my process for becoming a better angler, and document both the successes as well as the failures. I'd also like this site to contribute to the knowledge base of fly fishing. If I feel as though a particular topic has not received the attention it deserves, I'll write about it here. That means instructionals and gear reviews. On occasion, I will also use the site as a platform to talk about topics and opinions that are pertinent to fly fishing, whether it be the industry, the culture, or the environment.

Long story short, Last Cast Life is about the ride. Let's see where it takes us.