Saturday, April 18, 2015

Yak Sardina

     I keep saying tailing is the simplest way to achieve articulation. So here is an example of a design that is all the way there – about as simple as you can get.

Ever notice that the good flies, the true workhorses, are usually fairly simple? Idiotic-simple in some cases. I’m all about idiotic-simple. I consider it a goal & an ideal.

Also, probably too often, I *spew about the superiority of natural hair fibers. Here is why: it is because natural hair is superior to synthetic hair for most bait-making applications. Wild hair is constructed on a ‘spine’ & has memory. It can also be ‘trained’ & will keep & return to the desired shape. Natural hair possesses nuance of coloration; gathers & reflects UV light; allows obfuscating light to pass through; breathes & undulates lasciviously when wet; does not tangle with itself requiring combing out &, this is important, unlike synthetic, wild hair doesn’t droop when the fly is paused. Not saying I don’t use synthetics because I do. But in hair streamers I prefer to use it as a lateral line sandwiched between layers of natural hair. Non-crinkly synthetic fibers, tending to lie together without much flare, work really well as a lateral coloration in an all-hair baitfish pattern.

Natural hair gives baitfish designs the same mojo that natural materials give insect imitations. Nothing mimics life better than life.        

*Spew: It’s my karma work. Made a deal with the thing that lives on my shoulder (not sure if it’s a devil or angel) & it gave me this. The affect is similar to tourette’s I think. No worries. Avoid eye contact, I won’t come up to you at the parking lot.

My take on the Sardina is based on the pattern as tied by Captain Vaughn Podmore.

Can be adapted to simulate most any baitfish. I tie mine with clear mono tying thread. Before adding the eyes & cementing the head, I hold the fly in a stream of hot water under the sink faucet for a minute to shape it, as you would a bucktail or flatwing.  

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Damn Near Straight Rabbit Leech

     I got the first leech on me at the age of eight, the summer I’d amassed enough sand to swim from the family dock out to the island in the center of Tucker Pond. A nice one. About two inches long. Noticed it there, dangling alien spade-headed wormlike critter, undulating from the center of my chest as I emerged gasping from the pond aiming to claim the island’s fabled blueberries. I ripped it away & a drop of blood streamed down. That was ikky, I thought. Took the celebratory juice out of my right-of-passage swim-to-the-island victory for a minute.

That was also the summer of my first truly big bass, taken on a black/blue flake rubber worm, a new thing. And I later learned that a lot of other fish besides largemouth bass like the black/blue combination.

The rabbit ‘leech’ (DNSR Leech) pattern featured here has become one of my staples for dredging Eastside Washington lakes, I like a #4, makes about a two-inch ‘leech’, & I doubt that it is taken for a leech, in that size, as the real leeches I’m seeing in the local lakes are under an inch long – which accounts for the popularity of mini-leeches, I think – & this pattern can be tied on a #12 & fished as a mini-leech. But I like the big ole #4 tied on a TMC 200R drop-bend hook (which serves to keel the fly – lake fish don’t want to see it rolling & screwing through the water) fished deep on a full-sinking line or 15’ sinking head.

Size & silhouette reminds me more of a dragonfly nymph or a sculpin than a leech…

Good smallmouth bass fly. Brookies & browns too. And it does travel to running water as well.

DNSR Leech

Hook: #4 TMC 200R

Thread: wine UNI 8/0

Tailing: black rabbit fur (taken from a strip or whole hide) layered with 2 strands blue flash/2, red flash – tie in ahead of the hook point – apply a drop of penetrating cement at the tie-in point (I keep saying it: tailing is the simplest way to achieve articulation.)

Body: black rabbit w/guard hairs mixed with chopped red & blue flash, on a dubbing loop of the tying thread, or wine 3/0 or sewing thread on larger sizes, if you like           

Collar: black rabbit fur spread around the hook shank as a collar ~ & finish.

Flyfish NE Washington with Steven Bird:

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Soft-Hackle Gold-Ribbed Hare’s Ear

     Though I have featured the Hare’s Lug & Plover, a popular British version, it occurred to me that three years into writing the Soft~Hackle Journal & I have not yet archived my own take on the Hare’s Ear. Versions of the Hare’s Ear have been in use for the entire history of Anglo fishing literature, & no doubt were fooling English trout well before the advent of print. I’ve overlooked the ancient pattern, fearing redundancy, considering it already covered ad infinitum. Forgive me. And some things do bear repetition. There might be kids reading who really need to know this.

Example: Once had a guy show up to fish with a boxful of neatly tied flies (beadheads on all of em) & not a single plain old Hare’s Ear wet of any kind in his box. The guy had strong ideas about what works. He let me know he’d fished Patagonia every year for twenty years. But the upper Columbia redband, being canny wild trout, were not appreciating his impressive resume or his beaded enticements. Spotted sedge stormed from the reach, & the trout preferring the emerging pupae accumulating just beneath the surface film. The beadhead caddis ‘emerger’ the guy insisted on did not present the way the trout wanted it, the gold beadhead serving to sink the fly too quickly out of the preferred zone, & that soon became obvious while fish tailed all around us. He made a face when I opened my box & offered him the wee Hare’s Ear, but took it without a word, tied it on, & was soon into a nice UC redband. To be fair, the guy was a passionate angler, he was simply temporarily stuck in a frame.  

Moral of the story (if I may paraphrase): He who lives by one thing will, on some days, die by that thing.

If you don't already, I’d suggest you carry a couple beadless Hare’s Ears with you & be able to meet a spectrum of circumstances & hatches they will cover. Can’t go wrong with a soft-hackle Hare’s Ear when meeting spotted sedge hatches – & the same pattern tied with an olive abdomen covers grannom, as well as others. And the pattern is equally useful fished for both mayflies & the smaller stonefly species. The Hare’s Ear imitates nothing, yet looks like everything – a delightfully utilitarian, ambiguously dangerous combination, bottom to top.     

There is no disputing the fish catching mojo of rabbit face as a tying material, evidenced by the many versions of the Hare’s Ear we see – with & without hackle or tails – with hare’s mask the only material in common.  And I think there may be as many versions of this fly as there are tyers interpreting it. 

The version featured here is my own take, though I doubt the material list is original. It may be tied without tailing to simulate sedge larvae & pre-emergent pupae, though I fish the tailed version as an emerger during sedge hatches, as the tailing serves to represent a trailing nymphal shuck. I tie them both weighted & not.

S-H Gold-Ribbed Hare’s Ear

Hook: #10-#18 Daiichi 1150

Thread: tan UNI 8/0

Tail: mallard flank, wood duck or gadwall – 3 to 5 fibers (This is a departure from the popular guard hair tailing, & I think an improvement.)

Rib: oval gold tinsel – metallic rod-wrapping thread is good

Body: reddish hare’s mask taken from the base of the ears, dubbed on a loop of the tying thread, wound to the head – overwrap with gold ribbing to the head, then add a bit of dubbing mixed with guard hairs from the ear & wind on a short thorax (I wind a short thorax on all my soft-hackle nymphs to create silhouette & mass & to keep the hackle flared away from the body.)

Hackle: ruffed grouse, & partridge or brahma hen are good – & finish.

Flyfish NE Washington with Steven Bird:      

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The Secret Beach

     Early morning, the coast road is salted & barren north of Cambria; the peaks of the Santa Lucia just receiving the rouge of first sun.   

I park on a gravel shoulder, unload my pack & rod & squeeze through the access turnstile allowing passage through the barbed wire fence then move swiftly down through the Hearst bull pasture to the bluff. I pause to survey.

Eternal tao sea. Long, long sky. Up from the beach, the breeze smells like fish.

It is a small crescent of a beach. No more than half a mile long. Typical of beaches along this tilted segment of coast. On the north end, a ragged headland projects to block the prevailing northwesterly, & a similar point to the south. Sheltered from the wind, it is a good casting beach. I have it to myself.  

I look for structure – gravel spots; humps; current rips moving straight out from the beach indicating deeper water; convergences where intersecting waves indicate a trough. I watch the waves rise, claw up the beach & recede. There is a strong current rip flowing out from the center of the crescent. The most outstanding structure of the beach. Fish will gather there. If there are any. I check my watch. Plenty of time. The tide peaking in two & a half hours, at 10:30 AM. Morning tides are best. Today is a 5.2 high tide with a moderate swell at a quick interval. A quick interval means the water will stay up & working.  The sea beyond the cove is calm, spread out like milk to the horizon. Hint of an offshore breeze. Nearly perfect conditions, & rare, as this is a windy coast. Why I like the big rod here. One reason.

I admit that I am a saltwater junkie. In this case the fish are barred surfperch, mainly. But there are others. On this same beach I’ve caught starry flounder; lemon sole; halibut; steelhead; striped bass; leopard shark; guitarfish – yet they are the odd fish & not the expected. Far more common are the surfperch. Mostly barred perch.        

As a brawler, pound for pound, Cali barred surfperch will go head to head with
anything. The world record at close to five pounds came from the area I fish, though most are one & a half to two & a half pound models, with some bigger fish in the mix. A three pound barred perch will convert you. Sand crabs (mole crabs) are their major prey, & these fish have evolved muscle for feeding on them in the turbulent rips of the surf zone. Canny as any wild trout. They are also fond of shrimp, worms & small baitfish. Clouser & bonefish styles work well. Rootbeer colorations.

The rip is out in front of a gravel hump. I start there, dumping the line for a long cast. I like the two-hander – a  12’6” 5/6 spey – it’s a cannon in the surf set up with a 9wt, integrated, fast-sink tip with medium sink running line. I make a two-handed overhead cast & throw the whole line.

Not long into it, I feel a tapping grab, & the first fish succumbs quick. A shiner
perch, about the size of my hand, big-eyed, round & hubcap bright. A good sign. There’s life.

Water on the inside rises & holds, pregnant, I am there, & I hook something that I know is not a perch. I check its run & feel the big rod strain into the butt. Can’t stop it yet. I think it’s a leopard shark. Halfway into the backing the spool slows & I check the fish again & it arcs from the surf & shows itself to be a steelhead. A nice one, about eight pounds I figure. It goes bananas ripping off some more line then jumps again out in heavy surf & throws the hook.

Shaken, I step back from the water.

A triad of vultures ride a thermal above the wind tortured cypress lining the bluff.

Perhaps the little trace from the hills emptying to the cove, now a streak of dry gravel, was the natal stream of the long distance released steelhead. I wonder if the rains will come. I am almost glad the steelhead got away.    

I make another half dozen casts to the shoulder of the rip and another fish loads the rod – it feels like a good one – & I figure I’ve hit the jackpot on steelhead but the fish doesn’t jump, it bulldogs. I work it up into the skim. A striped bass. I’m surprised. About a three pounder.  I admire it and slip the hook quickly. Schoolie size. There should be more. I fish fast, expectant, yet a dozen casts both sides of the rip & nothing.

I wind in & retreat to a driftwood log up against the toe of the bluff & chew an apple.

The Big Sur headlands rise abrupt & desolate from the brightening sea, close, to the north. It is as wild & lonesome as any place I’ve fished.     

High tide. The rip looks even better. I walk down & get back to it.

The water is right & I let the cast go & by the time I’ve gathered the slack the fly has reached bottom & the first barred perch of the day finds it. And then the perch are there, & fairly steady. I catch a handful; high shouldered, bronzed, mature fish. And then they are gone.

The wind comes in with the tide. It’s already white-capping on the outside. I climb
the trail leading up the bluff toward the coast road.

A young woman, on her way down to the beach, greets me on the trail. She is lovely, sun streaked & browned, accompanied by a friendly Lab. She smiles, stops, looks out to the sea & says: “Isn’t it the best day ever!” She rises onto her tiptoes when she says “ever”.   

She seems confidant in that, her words a statement not a question. And though, I guess, in some circumstances her greeting might be considered odd, in the moment it makes perfect sense, & I am in accord.

“Yes,” I say, “I’d consider this one of the best.” ~   

Sunday, March 29, 2015

The San Gabriel River ~ Going Forward With a Plan

Grafitti, East Fork, San Gabriel River
     As a kid I pursued the trout of the San Gabriel mercilessly. Bright leaves of trout. I owe them a lot more than the two cents I’m throwing down here.

Growing up in Glendora, California, at the foot of the mountains, the San Gabriel River was my refuge from 1963 until 1975, when I relocated to the Northwest pursuing a career in forestry. It was my fly fishing natal stream. I was there at the inception of the catch & release native trout segment on the West Fork. The love & appreciation for the outdoors the river canyons engendered & fostered in me led to my career in silvaculture & forestry & provided the foundation of my life as a guide & writer.    

My hat is off to those who worked to bring the San Gabriel Mountains National Monument to reality, as it is a huge first step toward creating a stewardship plan for this sensitive & immensely important region adjacent to one of the largest population centers on earth. Hopefully, now we can move forward with a stewardship plan focused on addressing the new Monument’s most pressing environmental concerns. It is one thing to acquire a label for a region or a river, yet another to achieve the actual recipe & ingredients needed to restore & preserve it.

Of course, the prime ingredient is funding for the restoration projects the San Gabriel River within the Monument sorely needs. It is my understanding that the Forest Service has already been allotted some funds for use in the Monument, also, California Fish & Game, with some loose funds to spend in the southern region – & both of those outfits looking for a worthwhile project to spend those funds on. There’s a start. They need a direction.    

I’ve heard the San Gabriel watershed called the Central Park of Los Angeles, & though the analogy might not be entirely accurate I do agree the space serves a similar recreational function, I agree that it is deserving of equal care & stewardship. That is generally agreed on by most of the voices claiming a seat at the discussion table outlining their particular vision of what should happen in the Monument. And, as I review the various ‘stakeholders’, I am reminded that any plan going forward must be one that most benefits the environment of the Monument, secured as a natural area (not a city park), regardless. What benefits the habitat of the Monument is precisely what will benefit the most, ultimately. And though it is true that every voice deserves a place at the discussion table, it needs to be pointed out that there can be no compromise on the stream for habitat-destroying activities – that would only serve to give us what we already have: compromised, non-viable habitat. Non-extractive conservation ethics should prevail, & that serving to conserve both habitat & funds.

Yes, I believe it is possible to create an interface between the highly developed L.A. basin & the adjacent, fairly wild San Gabriel, & without the need to compromise sensitive habitat.

So what should the initial priorities be?             

In my view, the chief environmental priority should be the several miles of San Gabriel River mainstem, which is degraded at this time, while located in the widest portion of the canyon holding the most recreation potential. Indeed, if the San Gabriel River be the main vein, the mainstem segment, including that section of the East Fork canyon from Camp Williams downstream to the confluence with the mainstem, is certainly the heartbeat of the Monument.

The mainstem segment above the San Gabriel Reservoir was initially degraded with the building of the reservoir. There was some riparian habitat still remaining on the mainstem & up the lower East Fork canyon during the 1960’s, but the record rains of 1968-1969 raised a flood that scoured out the riparian habitat remaining in that segment & took out the stable streambed, leaving the mainstem segment the lifeless floodplain that it is now. After the flood leveled the streambed, off-road vehicle enthusiasts began to use the ruined segment, leveling it further. Unable to stop the flood of off-road vehicles the Forest Service bowed to the trend & added facilities to enhance off-roading, further contributing to degrading the streambed. It needs to be pointed out that recreational off-roading in streamside riparian areas is illegal under current California statutes – & it should be stressed: the segment is far too vital to the river’s function within the Monument to be used for activities as impactive as off-roading or placer mining.   

Why do I see the several miles of the San Gabriel River mainstem within the Monument as so important? As I said, it is the widest & most accessible portion of the canyon, holding the most recreational potential, while now, the most degraded high-value area within the Monument. Yet the nexus of my reason is this: The mainstem contains the most water, the greatest flow, & that critical to the survival of native trout inhabiting the system, particularly during times of drought, like what S. California is experiencing now. Native trout, particularly landlocked steelhead such as inhabit the San Gabriel, are highly migratory within their river systems, seeking the best feeding & spawning areas or deeper, cooler water during periods of low stream flow. As things are now, trout are unable to utilize the (potentially) deeper, cooler mainstem in its present state, so remain isolated up the branches, where their race shrinks in size conforming to the shrunken, truncated habitat. It is my view that, in the long run, a viable population of San Gabriel native trout will not exist without restoration of the mainstem streambed & habitat.                   

Some of the major players do see the river as first priority, attempting to gain a sort of parceled Wild & Scenic River status for the upper reaches of the San Gabriel (which has five dams spanning it & is contained in a concrete ditch for about forty miles of its total sixty-mile length). No doubt, the environmental pros know a lot that I don’t, but the W&SR status for a few small branches seems ironic to me, facetious, na├»ve at best (or desperate), when in reality the San Gabriel River is a famous example of what a wild & scenic river is not. And it will not be that just because we call it that. In any case, I suggest we admit that the San Gabriel River is severely degraded & move to focus the appropriate agencies on that problem within the new Monument – W&SR status or not. And, considering present statutes & options under the new Monument status, I don’t see how the W&SR status is particularly necessary toward expediting or getting the needed habitat work done. Status labels serve as a balm, however they don’t necessarily serve to lever actual rehabilitation. Native & Heritage Trout status labels have done nothing to protect the East Fork of the San Gabriel from ongoing illegal placer mining that has all but ruined the stream in recent years, for example.

Agencies place the blame on lack of funds for law enforcement, though my conversations with agency personnel might indicate ambiguous priorities are equally to blame. That’s not to say the Monument doesn’t need more personnel to ensure public safety & protect habitat, certainly that is a critical need, & should be at the top of the list of priorities. All seem to agree on that.

As citizen organizations concerned with the San Gabriel National Monument go forward with their respective plans, I urge all involved to consider rehabilitation of the mainstem floodplain, from the confluence with Bear Creek down to San Gabriel Reservoir, as an initial priority. Hopefully, fishery & angling organizations will see this as extremely beneficial, if not critical, to the survival of native San Gabriel trout & coalesce into an alliance to make this happen.

In my view, the San Gabriel River deserves & would benefit from catch & release, artificials only fishing regulations within the Monument. In perspective, it is not a lot of water, too small a system to be parceled & truncated. To be viable, it must be integrated, in actuality & in stewardship. So I call on the various fishing clubs & conservation organizations involved to make attaining catch & release regs, along with streambed & habitat restoration for the mainstem, a particular focus as we seek to integrate the remaining river system within the Monument. Our children will thank us for it, & the trout will reward us.                 

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Presentation. Presentation. Presentation.

Our Hero
“You must tie your fly & FISH your fly so the trout can enjoy & appreciate it.”

     The James Leisenring quote placed under the banner of this journal is there for a particular reason. It is there because I believe that short statement expresses the core working ideal of fly fishing. Like all truth it is fractal. A koan, if you will. If one meditates on it long enough one might attain enlightenment. The quote can be broke down into parts (& actual schools of thought have arisen to embrace the individual active assertions). Any species of fish can be substituted for “trout”. As it is a particular interest that some of us are drawn to, this journal for the most part devotes itself to the ‘tie your fly’ aspect. However, I’m fairly certain Leisenring meant the advice to be taken & practiced as a whole deal. Sure, he & his cohort Pete Hidy wrote a book dealing with fly tying without saying much about presentation, but the focus of that book was fly design (though the Leisenring Lift technique briefly described in a paragraph contains more practical usefulness than entire chapters I’ve read in some books). But in their articles & letters Leisenring & Hidy stress presentation. Indeed, material ‘movement’ is the fundamental element of their simulative fly designs, & that movement, that breathing obfuscation, meant to enhance presentation. Of course.

Presentation is the game. Those of us who are tying nerds are well-served to be reminded from time to time. And you can be sure Leisenring carried a selection of splitshot when he fished.

Recently a journal with the intriguing title Amber Liquid Anglers and Sportsmen showed up on the radar, written by a guy named ‘spike’, so I had to check it out. And I was immediately impressed – the journal has a white page with black print, & a distinct Victorian motif (is there a neo-classicist underground operating with abandon ‘neath the glossy marketing veneer of our sport?) Spike’s succinct prose is definitely not Victorian. I like the way this guy writes.  An essay on presentation:      

Monday, March 23, 2015

Defining A Two-Handed Trout Rod

     Most come to two-handed rods through steelhead and salmon fishing, as a practical and enjoyable refinement toward collecting those fish from larger rivers. I’m probably fairly unique as my entry into the world of double-hand rods came through the desire for a better trout rod to meet the demands of my home water, the upper Columbia, where no fish from the sea have passed since 1939 when the construction of Grand Coulee Dam stopped the runs to the upper drainages. Nonetheless, it is big water holding big trout and in the way of such rivers it can be technical, but not the spring creek kind of technical wherein one envisions going ever finer, lighter, smaller.

Big rivers present technical challenges that might be efficiently met by going big, and a two-handed trout rod might be the solution to covering those waters. Or, a somewhat smaller river, for example, the Truckee, in California, might be a good place to employ a two-handed rod, particularly when the water is up. The Truckee has a slippery, loose cobbled bottom and can be dangerous to wade. A two-hander allows for longer casts, hence less wading for position. The longer rod holds more line off the water, affording more control and easier mending. With a two-hander, anybody who can execute a basic single-Spey cast or roll cast, will be far less hindered by lack of back-cast room. I can see the possibility of an angler taking command of the lower Truckee employing a two-hander, swinging a pair of nymphs or a muddler, covering the water more efficiently and with less effort than a single-hander.      

So what constitutes a Spey rod suitable for trout?   

There are a lot of kilt-wearing Scots in British Columbia, and they like the big sticks. The Canadians fish for Columbia trout with heavy rods, up to 15’ in length, using the big cannons to hurl large streamers an incredible distance, covering a lot of water from the bank and catching some impressive trout in the process. There is that. Still, I’ve tried it, and though fun to cast I find the big Spey rods overmatch most of the trout one is likely to encounter anywhere – swinging the claymore where the cutlass would suffice does have a certain appeal I admit, but hey, we’re trouting.

My first double-hand ‘trout rod’ was a 12’6” 5/6 Spey with a grain window of 350-550 grains, rated as a light steelhead rod, the lightest affordable and generally available twenty years ago. I learned to cast with it, and it was fun, yet didn’t fulfill exactly what I had in mind as a two-handed trout rod. My home water and its trout dictated something a bit lighter, throwing a less invasive line weight.

Once I learned Spey casts can be performed with a single-hand rod I wondered if a shorter, lighter rod might benefit from the addition of a rear grip – so I guinea-pigged an old fast-action, 9’ 6wt. After removing the butt cap from the reel seat, I assembled a 3” rear grip on a 6” fitted section cut from an old blank, then epoxied and inserted it, ferruled into the rod butt. The result is a fun rod, no Spey cannon but certainly better at performing Spey & roll casts than it was without the rear grip. It is a roll-casting machine rigged with a 7wt double-taper line, a nice tool for high-stick nymphing, and good for pot-shooting cruising trout with emergers due to its ability to fire a quick double-hand overhead cast a fair distance without wasting time false-casting. The conversion works well on small to medium-sized streams, the size streams that many of us fish most of the time, places where we seldom cast farther than forty feet and roll-casting is the preferred mode. But keep in mind that 10’ to 12’ rods designed to handle two-handed casts, which generate considerable torque in the rod, will be better tools than your10’ 4wt ‘far & fine’ modified with a rear grip, if you plan on meeting larger rivers holding a larger grade of fish, throwing heavier flies.

It requires a heavier line to load a rod for Spey casts, and rods designed for the purpose will throw a variety of lines; while a converted single-hand rod will be more fragile, possessing a tighter grain window. A conversion will perform best lined with the heaviest line it can possibly handle, but such rods do have strength limitations, so I would hesitate to go heavier than two line weights above the designation on the rod for fear of breaking it, and one or one and a half steps over the designated weight is a safer way to go for a conversion. The modified 6wt with handy rear grip that I built is a fun rod for fishing lakes and smaller streams, yet didn’t prove enough stick for meeting the larger rivers I like to fish. I found myself wanting a rod about 11’ to 12’ in length that might throw the equivalent of 6 to 9wt AFTMA rated lines, or a grain window somewhere between 160 and 250 grains.

I’m currently using an 11' 3" rod manufacturer-rated for 6wt (160 grains) AFTMA lines. It is sold as a ‘switch rod’, meaning it can be operated in either single-hand or double-hand mode. Trials revealed that the manufacturer’s 6wt designation is actually the lightest end of the rod’s grain window. After casting it with a variety of lines I determined the rod will handle 6wt to 8wt AFTMA lines most effectively, giving it a grain window of 160-210 grains. That covers the spectrum of things I want the rod to do, presenting and fishing small soft-hackles and double nymph rigs, swinging wetflies and streamers. While capable of handling an eight pound trout it doesn’t feel like too big a gun when fighting a twelve-incher. It is perfect for sea-run cutthroat, I’ve taken steelhead and pinks with it, and it’s all I use anymore for fishing barred perch in the surf.   

Lining a Double-Hand Trout Rod:

The ideal length of line beyond the rod tip for performing any type of Spey or change of direction cast is roughly equal to three times the length of the rod – about 30’ is the working length on rods appropriate for trouting. AFTMA line ratings are based on the grain weight of the first 30’ of line, while AFFTA (Spey) line ratings are based on the weight of several working lengths of line beyond the rod tip, each line designation available in several weights. There is a vast difference between the two. An AFTMA rated 6 weight line weighs 160 grains over the first 30’; while a #6 AFFTA Spey rated line can weigh 350 grains and more, depending on the working length beyond the rod tip, which may be somewhat more than 30’.  Such a line might break a rod designed for a 6wt AFTMA line. Fortunately, an enlightened minority of rod makers print the grain window on the rod, which is most helpful, allowing us to choose from a spectrum of lines – and that is the future, I hope. Knowing the grain window of your rod will cut through the confusion and open the door to lining possibilities. When you think in grain weight, no matter what the label says: a line is a line is a line. And regarding trout rods, our only concerns are what purpose we have for the line and how much the first 30’ weighs. As of this writing, it is among the AFTMA rated lines that we find the greatest variety suitable for trouting.  Though there are now builders producing light, 2/3 Spey designated rods and lines designed with trout in mind, there are no official AFFTA weight designations for 1, 2 and 3, the Spey weights falling into the grain window most suitable for trout rods. For perspective, I casted a 10’6” Meiser 2/3 which casted 6wt, 7wt & 9wt lines, & casted beautifully lined with the 8wt.  Generally, the longer the rod the wider its grain window, and a rod built to withstand the rigors of Spey casting will handle a variety of lines fairly well, though it will have a sweet zone, and that will vary according to casting style.

For small to medium sized streams an integrated, floating, weight-forward line will perform fine on a two-hander. Lines selling as ‘triangle tapers’, configured similar to Scandi heads, with the weight distributed toward the back of the taper, are a good choice for a double-hand trout rod – and sinking leaders or sink tips of up to 10’ can be looped to these as needed. There is at least one manufacturer offering double-taper lines with heads designed for Spey casting with either single or double-hand trout rods. In lining a light conversion meant for smaller streams, to my mind, you can’t go wrong with a double-taper, which is configured like a long-belly Spey line. A DT presents well, and the fatter running line creates maximum drag on the water and weight in the D loop to load the rod, particularly in tight situations when casting with less than 30’ beyond the rod tip. I offer the DT as my own preference, and that is not to say any integrated weight-forward line of the proper weight won’t perform as well, yet I haven’t found a line configuration that roll casts better than a double-taper – and you still get two lines in one. And if you move on to building your own heads, you might cut up the DT and get three lines.      

There are a number of AFTMA rated shooting head systems that turn over a variety of interchangeable tips becoming available, designed to be cast with both switch and single-hand rods, similar to the Skagit or Scandi systems used on steelhead/salmon rods, and I would recommend one of this type for lining a big-water trout rod. But, now, knowing the grain window of the rod, you can take it a step further and build your own system from a double-taper line, as I did for the 11’ 3” switch rod mentioned earlier. After trials with several line weights, I determined that the rod best performed single-hand overhead casts with a 6wt line; double-hand overhead casts with a 7wt line; roll and Spey casts with an 8wt line. I was still able to work the double-hand overhead cast fairly well using the 8wt line, and as I intended the rod for double-hand casting, I went with the 8wt as the primary line for building a system. I purchased a good quality DT 8wt floating line and cut the first 30’ from one end of it, which gave me a 210 grain floating head – so there’s my basic floating line. From the other end of the DT, I cut off 5’ of the front taper, then measured off 20’ to create a ‘body’ which carries a variety of 10’ sink tips – I cut 5’ off the small diameter at the end of the taper to gain more line body diameter for turning over attached tips. A floating head rounds out the system, so there’s rarely a need to change the primary line body. I also cut 27’ from an old 8wt, weight-forward, fast-sinking line to make a full-sinking head. A scale aids greatly in this process, the investment worth it, making it possible to custom build excellent lines at a fraction of the cost of factory lines. My reel is spooled with a good quality low-memory mono running line that slips through the guides with less resistance than an integrated line. The running line is rigged with a long loop at the end so a coiled head will pass through for an easy loop-to-loop connection, allowing quick line changes on stream without the need of a spare spool.               

The Advantages – The point, really:

A two-handed rod affords casting in tight places without the need to back-cast, greater casting distance, quicker launches without the need to false-cast when pot-shooting roving gangs of trout puddling on emergers, great line control with easy, more precise line mending at longer distance, and the ability to hold line off the water when short-line, high-stick nymphing and swinging. Also easy handling of large flies and awkward bobber set-ups. The long rod allows the use of longer leaders and is forgiving of light leaders in the precincts of fussy larger trout who might break them – a two-handed trout rod is a relaxing, graceful, pure fun tool for casting and swinging a streamer, wetfly, or a pair of soft-hackle nymphs on big water.
I met a guy who’d installed rear grips on all of his trout rods, and they are cute on the little 4 and 5 weights. No harm done. Nice roll-casters. There’s that, and one might have a good purpose for such rods. But I think, for most, a double-hand trout rod might afford the most appreciable advantage as a rod to fill the big-water/big-fish niche, while still possessing the capability for finesse – and that is a fairly narrow slice from the spectrum of double-hand rods available. For most practical purposes, I would say it comes down to rods of 10’ to 12’ in length, possessing grain windows falling between 160 and 250 grains, that serve to define a two-handed trout rod designed and built for the purpose. Rods rated for 6wt to 8wt AFTMA lines, or 1/2/3 Spey lines will serve for most of us. Or maybe Spey rated rods in 4 or 5 if you plan on fishing the Kenai. Forced to compress the definition to what I consider the most useful, I’d say a rod that performs best with the equivalent to an AFTMA 8wt line. That is, if I was forced to keep it down to only one ~              

Flyfish NE Washington with Steven Bird: