My first experience with the Gunpowder River occurred last winter. After some preliminary research, I decided to fish the catch and release section below Prettyboy Reservoir. It was a cold and beautiful day on the water with temperatures hovering a little above freezing with no breeze. I spent most the day exploring the river, walking the banks without spending much time in any one spot. Below the intense winter sun, I turned my focus to nymphing the riffles, hoping the sun had warmed up the water. One riffle produced several skinny browns on a black midge pattern. I continued exploring the river, using my mesh net as a seine to catch some insects I knocked off the bottom. I was surprised to see an enormous amount of large mayflies. Both black and olive appeared in good numbers. I also found several large crane fly larvae, surely a feast for any hungry trout. As the afternoon waned, a few black midges were flying around, but not enough to induce any rises. While no trout landed exceeded 12”, catching anything within two hours of DC in late January qualifies as a success.
Dragonfly
Science fiction has always intrigued me, but nonfiction is more compelling.
Floating down the Shenandoah River in pursuit of smallmouth, I docked my kayak on a small rock outcropping in the middle of the river. The intention was to cast from this platform to the riffles below. Upon inspecting the 10’x5’ rock I was standing on, a bizarre spectacle unfolded before my eyes. Perched facing the sun, lay several nymphs preparing to emerge. They were dragonfly nymphs and the emerging process was horrifying and completely enthralling. Reminiscent of Ridley Scott’s, Alien, the transformation was too strange to look away.
Warning: Images may be disturbing to some viewers
A Day on the Bay
The Chesapeake Bay boasts a variety of wildlife and outdoor activities. However, with decades of abuse and a notoriously polluted past, the bay is a shadow of its old self. While the Chesapeake Bay may never completely recover to its original state, progress has been made towards repairing this resource and increasing populations of it’s native inhabitants.
Armed with a couple rods and kayaks, I met up with a friend to explore one of the numerous marshes along the bay. Rumors of red fish, stripers and speckled trout was all the motivation we needed to explore the area. Unfortunately, as is often a theme of saltwater fishing, inclement weather made it nearly impossible to find feeding fish. We managed to catch a few striper, a speck and a red before ominous clouds and thunder rolling just south of us threatened to end our day on the water. The storm stayed south of us before heading out to sea, but the change in atmospheric pressure remained and the fish seemed content on eluding our offerings for the rest of the day. The fishing was far from ideal, but fish were caught (on spinning tackle) and fun was had. We will be back.
Mossy Creek
Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley is a fisherman’s paradise. From wild trout to lurking musky, fish are plentiful. Tucked away in this lush valley, the legendary Mossy Creek holds some of Virginia’s greatest and toughest trout fishing. Monster brown trout lay hidden in the heavy weeds and undercut banks of this meandering spring fed creek. These elusive fish are wary of fishermen and are not often eager to take ones fly. I have spent multiple days completely humbled by these fish without so much as a bite. Persistence can pay off and the reward can be well worth the wait.
With dense vegetation lining the stream, nymphing can prove a frustrating endeavor. Many anglers, myself included, prefer an aerial approach. Abundant terrestrials and sporadic hatches can provide excellent dry fly fishing opportunities. Most of my success on this creek has come from casting dry flies to sighted fish. The vegetation and river hydrology make for very short drifts, so I tend to aim my casts just above the nose of the trout. When there are no bugs coming off the water and no fish in view, running a streamer along the undercut banks is recommended. This can be especially effective in higher flows and murkier water. Regardless of technique, these fish have see many flies and are wary of imposters. A stealthy approach is essential or a shot at a fish could be lost before the fly touches the water. It is best to keep a low profile while walking along the bank, tread lightly, and watch out for the cows. Also, it should be noted that wading and fishing after dark is not permitted.
Photo contributions: Charlie Church
Shenandoah River
After bidding a temporary farewell to the pristine brook trout laden streams of Shenandoah National Park, I entered stage two of a fisherman’s weekend. The Shenandoah River meanders patiently through the Shenandoah Valley and is home to many species of fish, smallmouth bass being one of them. Outfitted with a kayak, I approached her banks. The river was flowing well, fed by recent rains and only slightly off-color. Perfect conditions. After a few sloppy casts sending heavy flies whizzing past my head I adjusted to the heavier rod without serious bodily injury. I began by throwing a chartreuse CK baitfish which fooled a fish on the third cast. The fish were active and continued to hammer the baitfish pattern all day. While the fishing was consistently good all day, it was incredible in the late afternoon. Recognizing this bite surge, I docked my kayak opting to wade fish and cover the water more thoroughly. Standing in the middle of the river, I was hooking fish on every other cast 360 degrees around me when I noticed a shadow appear out of the glare. I cast my baitfish a few feet upstream of the shadow before slowly stripping it back. The bright color and large profile of the chartreuse baitifsh was easy to follow with my eyes until it disappeared, engulfed in shadow. I set the hook hoping my eyes had not deceived me. Immediately, the line tightened under tension of a large smallmouth quickly followed by the stomach churning slack as the fish raced directly towards me. Stripping line like a mad man, I recovered the slack and put the fish on the reel. After several line ripping runs and inspired jumps, the fish exhausted itself and I had my personal record of a smallmouth. The afternoon blitz seemed to defy time, but the sun had gone down behind the mountains and darkness approached. I paddled the remaining two miles, content without throwing another cast. Tired and smiling, I loaded up my kayak at last light and returned to the city to begin planning the next adventure.
