Rose River - October 2018

I am slowly working my way south through Shenandoah National Parks many blue lines. This day I decided to head to the Rose River just outside of Syria to cross another one off of my list. I had originally planned on fishing Cedar Run but with all of the rain we have had this past season, a great deal of parking was cut off due to bridge damage (that and an honor safe that I didn't want to pay for). In any case, the Rose turned out to be a great alternative. I picked my dad up on my through town and we headed off to the park.

This trip was planned for a Monday before I realized that it was a holiday weekend, with that in mind I decided to postpone to Tuesday, even with this in mind, I can never help but feel a bit anxious when driving to a fishing spot. The thought of showing up to a lot filled with cars plastered with Orvis, Patagonia, TFO, Sage (the list goes on) stickers always gets me a bit nervous. However on this fine October morning we pulled up to a wonderful sight, an empty parking area. We had our bags packed and rods strung up and were on the trail in record time. 

There is a nice trail head kiosk at this location and after consulting that we decided to hike up to where the fire road crossed a tributary large enough to be marked on the map. We got to a point where there was a good bit of water crossing the road and called it good enough and we slipped off the trail and on to the water. I started off fishing a foam beetle with a small beadhead dropped about 8 inches behind and it was not too long before I brought the fist fish of the day to the net. A nice healthy 8 inch brookie. We continued fishing up stream and I was able to bring a couple more to net which is a piece of gear I was really glad to have along this time. The fish are by no means large enough to warrant a landing net but a small net to catch the fish as they flail about is really handy to keep them from hurting themselves. 

Around 11:30, I caught two fish back to back, the first one was landed in the net and released without issue. The next one, less than a minute later didn't get the luxury of a net landing because I somehow lost the net in that minute. I reached back and there was my magnetic net leash, dutifully holding nothing but itself. I searched for about fifteen minutes for that net and went back to fishing when I decided it was a lost cause. After this, I no longer really trust those S-Biner carabiners. I have almost lost my keys to them multiple times and now I have lost a net due to them.

Stream-side lunch this outing consisted of the finest freeze dried, Styrofoam encased noodles I have ever had, along with some beef jerky and trail mix (Wal-Mart Omega-3 mix is excellent). I have said it before but I believe that the location of a meal can change the quality by leaps and bounds, after all it was a $0.50 cup of noodles but it sure did hit the spot. With high spirits and full of new found energy we headed upstream for the afternoon.

The fishing remained about the same for me, I did however change over to a foam Dyret to drop the nymph from at which point my hookup ratio was about 50:50 on the dry and nymph which is always nice. Cant beat a hungry fish rising like a little missile out of the rocky nooks of the stream bottom. As the afternoon went on, I eventually came to the tributary where we intended to start and had a nice little break at the confluence near the bridge. Losing that net was really nagging me so I decided to pick my way back down stream to fish the nicer pools and runs and look for that net. After about an hour of backtracking we were never able to find that net but we were at the point where the elevation difference between the trail and river made it wise to jump back on the trail. 

We made it back to the parking lot where my car had been by itself the whole day. Despite the lost net, a bunch of beautiful fish were brought to hand and that makes it all worth it. I just hope that someone finds the net and it makes their day.

-On to the proof-

Ready to roll

The trusty 2wt.

Foam Dyret and a little green nymph

I lost this net somewhere on the Rose, if you find it, enjoy it.

Lunch with a view

And a view with lunch

Ugly Mugly

A good map is a work of art

A thing in the woods

See Bigfoot?

Two way radios are an excellent addition to small stream fishing, sure beats trying to shout over the water all day.

That pile of logs had to be around 20' tall, respect the river... its more powerful than you are.

There is a fish in there.

Told you.

ded

Best kind of parking lot. Empty.

Water

I don't like sand, I think that is a pretty common thing, you either love it or hate it and I am the latter. The Potomac River where I live and work is a massive river, almost 5 miles across in front of my house and with a big slow river comes a lot of sand. Along with the sand, the river picks up a lot of debris and garbage along its travels past Washington DC and many other smaller human centers. Today I found something on the beaches of Caledon State Park that made me appreciate the massive Potomac a little more. A bottle of Loon Aquel. At first I thought “Well that's cool, I bet it is still good to use” then I thought “Among all of the garbage that washes up on these beaches, what are the chances that this would be found by someone who actually knows what it is?”. As I was walking back to the truck I began to think about the journey that little bottle had taken, probably dropped somewhere along Jeremy’s Run or Little Hawksbill or some secluded little brook in Maryland or Pennsylvania. All the water flowing by the park and my house has its beginnings in the little mountain streams that I love. The water gathers into bigger basins and runs through cities, by parks and power plants. It transforms with the land around it into the big wide, sandy river I live next to. The life in the river has changed from little mayfly and caddis nymphs to blue crabs and oysters but it is still the same water, so in a way, I guess I can't help but love the big, sandy, smelly water of the lower Potomac. Not so long ago, this water was passing through the gills of a little brook trout or over a moss covered rock in the Shenandoah valley or even floating a size 16 Elk Hair Caddis above hungry trout eyes. Also, if you lost half a bottle of Aquel somewhere in the Potomac watershed in the last year or so, let me know and I’ll get it back to you.

Brokenback Run

A rambling story of a recent day trip fishing Brokenback Run with my cousin, John. The pictures are at the end, I know they are fuzzy, I'm kinda dissapointed, but what do you expect from a $15 waterproof phone case...



Heading west, early on a Monday morning, I was excited to be heading to some new water in Shenandoah National Park. Last year, John and I fished the Hughes River off of Nicholson Hollow trail with limited success. Fish were caught but I wouldn't call it a stellar day. Today we were going to be fishing Brokenback Run, a tributary of the Hughes.

I arrived in Washington, VA shortly after 8:30 AM and John and I were streambound shortly after. I had a new fly that I wanted to try and had high hopes for, a Dyret, size 12 tied with foam in lieu deer or moose hair. We arrived at the Old Rag Mountain parking lot and were happy to find that there were not too many people there yet. Even though there are 200 parking spaces in the lot, it fills up almost every weekend and can get crowded on a weekday. We saw no other anglers suiting up or cars plastered with Orvis, Patagonia, or Costa stickers, a good sign.

Wadered up and rod in hand, I showed my pass to the park ranger and we were off. The trailhead for both the Old Rag summit trail and Weakly Hollow fire road are 0.8 miles beyond the parking lot, all uphill and man did I feel it. Once we reached the fire road there was a false sense of relief as we still had 1.3 miles to where we wanted to start fishing. I'm not in the worst shape but seeing John walk the 2.1 mile incline and barely seem to break a sweat is pretty telling.

Along the fire road, we passed a lot of good looking pools and runs but the copious amount of social trails and makeshift campsites were a good indication to move on. Our goal was to get in the water at the junction of the Corbin Hollow trail. We reached a bridge on the fire road and looking at a map, I decided that I was close enough and that I was going to start fishing. The foam Dyret was already tied onto my leader and once at the bridge, I tied on a size 16 tungsten bead Pheasant Tail nymph on a 12 inch dropper. I was not fond of nymphing or using droppers until my short trip to PA last year where they proved to be quite productive.

I noticed on the first pool that I fished that the recent wind storm we had really knocked a lot of debris in the water and I was hanging up on sticks or leaves on every cast. I shortened my dropper to about 8 inches and the game was on. The first brookie hooked was just a little guy, around 4 inches, but he had plenty of spunk in him and I performed a "remote release" on him. Shortly after I hooked into a 7 or 8 inch fish that was just as frenzied but I was able to bring it to hand. The biggest takeaway for me that day was to always carry a net, my hooked vs. landed ratio would have been much better if I had brought one along.

The morning went quite well as we leap-frogged our way up the stream. Lots of fish were caught, the vast majority on the nymph. The little guys seemed to really like the dry which worked out, seeing a tiny little fish rise to a fly, a little restraint on the hookset keeps them from becoming a tree ornament. Stream-side lunch consisted of a peanut butter and apple butter sandwich, trail mix, and beef jerky. I really need to carry a pack that would fit my little canister stove because a cup of coffee would have really hit the spot with the chilly breeze coming down the hollow.

After lunch, I jumped back in where I left off and came to a pool that looked just about perfect. I was right in my judgement as I pulled 6 trout out of one long, wide pool. Pleased with myself, I found a nice rock to lay on and enjoyed the afternoon sun for a bit and studied my map, we really had not covered much water yet. I decided to pass John and head up to where Corbin Hollow trail jumps to the south side of the stream. First thing I did was break off my nymph that had been doing so well for me all morning. Oh well, re-rig and keep on fishing. Above the trail crossing, the stream seemed to widen a bit and the pools got smaller and more shallow. I'm sure there were still plenty of fish to catch upstream but I wanted to hit a couple of the nicer looking spots on the hike out to test my suspicions about the social trails (I was right, we caught nothing on the way out). Right at 3 pm, we started to head back down the trail. Along the way a group of Old Rag summit hikers passed us, they asked about the fishing and I probably would have said it was great, even if it wasn't. I feel that people who don't fish just ask out of politeness, most don't really care to hear your excuses for a fishless day.

Saying that I lost count of how many fish were caught wouldn't mean much because I lose track very quickly but plenty were brought to hand... I lost count.

Back at the car and among a cloud of wader funk, I stuck that little foam Dyret in my hat and thanked it for a great day on the water. It will never get fished again, it had done its job. Now it will just be a conversation starter "Hey man, there's a bug on your hat"... "I know, its a fly for fly fishing".

Weakly Hollow FR bridge over Brokenback Run

"There's trout in them there waters"

Old Rag Mountain watching over us

Tungsten must taste like live bait

The "that looks fishy" pool

I wasn't wrong

A deadly duo

These little guys were going airborne when taking the dry.

Once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout.

One of many, this one happened to be across the trail.

Saw a couple of these guys

Is it considered live bait if they hooked themselves?

Stuff I used that day...

Rod: Cabelas CGR 6'6" 4wt

Reel: L.L. Bean Angler I

Line: RIO DT-4-F

Leader: 7.5' 4x, 5x for dropper

Waders: Orvis ProGuide 3

Boots: Korkers Redside w/ Alumitrax soles

Glasses: Costa, green mirror