Day 4 of my trip to Georgia and the third day of fishing was to be my first ever attempt at North Georgia fly fishing. “The Kid” has all the local spots mapped out, so after getting a little go juice (coffee) in the morning, it’s off to the Blue Ridge mountains and a small fly fishing shop that he patronizes to pick up some gear and to rent some waders for me. Now I have to tell you, being from So-Cal, I am not used to seeing deer crossing the road as we’re driving not to mention all the raccoons that had decided to take a morning nap on the highway. But I digress, on to the fly shop!
This particular shop is in a quaint, old part of town. The exterior is brick with double sash wood windows and a bell hung on the door that you set off as you enter. Everything is very well kept including the wood floor and railings leading to the basement. Nothing in the shop has anything to do with anything other than fly fishing and the three gentlemen behind and around the counter are all hardcore fishermen. The store itself is on the small side but contains everything one needs for fly fishing. It’s interesting to me being the old bass hound that I am how so many different patterns of flies can be stored and kept in such a small amount of space along with all the line, backing, tippet and leader you could possibly want. Let’s just say that being used to going to a place like Bass Pro Shops that has 5 acres of floor space, this little shop was from a whole other world.
At any rate my son got everything we needed for the day and off we went to some of his favorite fishing holes. Here again I have to say, I have never seen in person anything quite like where we were about to fish. We pulled up on the first stream and got all the waders and boots and other paraphernalia on, I watched my son tie the flies on in the patterns he had chosen and then it was down the bank and into the river. I have to say that even what appears to be slow moving water will put some force on your legs and can make walking or wading as it’s called, less than a sure thing. If the scenery didn’t take my breath away, when the water got up to my lower…, lower…, lowest ab area, that sure did even through all the clothes.
My son started teaching me how to cast with a fly rod and I of course completely spazzed out for about the first fifteen minutes of the lesson. It’s just a totally different way of presenting a lure to a fish as opposes to conventional gear. Fortunately, the kid was patient and kept working with me to the point that I was no longer a danger to him, myself or to some degree, his gear. We worked for a while in that spot without any results no doubt to my own clumsiness in the water and he decided to go to another part of the river.
I don’t know how many of you have ever tried this but I am here to tell you that when you are concentrating so hard on what you are doing, you?re bound to make some goofy mistake and sure as shootin’, I did. I was trying to get to another spot to hopefully make a cast to this one spot on the other side of the river that had some slack water while trying to watch my line to make sure it didn’t get fouled on something and walk in the river at the same time! I guess it was just overload but I managed to completely miss seeing this one rock, stepped on it the wrong way and right then and there took a short swim. That water was COLD! I did manage to get back on my feet and was glad I could provide some comedic relief for the kid and with that it was off to another part of the river.
At this point I have to say in my own defense, I can take a bait-caster and without a thought, fire a lure 50-60 yards and be pretty much on target the vast majority of the time. With that caveat in mind, to cast with a fly rod, to a target even 50-60 feet away and in moving water was a lot more difficult than I could have imagined. Some day I am going to do nothing for a week but fly fish just so I can work on the casting part of things. But again, I digress. On to the next spot.
We headed down river about three miles, jumped out of the car and back into the water. This time I was getting to know the ropes a little bit better and it took me no more than 5 minutes to get my line out. I started walking to a good looking spot with my line trailing downstream from me no more than 20 feet. My son had shown me several times during the day how to set the hook with a fly rod so you can play the fish and not rip it out of it’s mouth. I went to pick up my line to make a cast and just then I felt a little tug. I really tried to set the hook properly but in the end I “bassed out” and following a short fight, lost my first trout on a fly rod. @#%&! Once again, I provided my son with some laughs, after which he reminded me again how to properly set the hook with the fly gear.
We kept fishing this spot for a while and I did manage to get a few more bites, and managed to mess up the hook set but also landed my first fish on fly gear. Of course, “The Kid” beat me like bass drum that day but I couldn’t care less. I had a ball.
There is so much to learn that has to do with fly fishing rivers that one day just isn’t enough and I can guarantee that I will do this every time I get the chance as should everyone, even old bass hounds!
North Georgia fly fishing might not get the hype of, say Montana or Pennsylvania, but it is an amazing, well kept secret.
See ya on the water…