The Orvis fly-fishing blog celebrates all things fly fishing, featuring top-notch articles, tips, photos, videos, podcasts and the latest fly-fishing news. From trout fishing in the famed rivers of Montana to brown-lining for carp in the urban jungle to chasing sailfish of the coast of Baja, we cover all sides of the sport we love. Regular features include Tuesday Tips, which will make you a better angler, and the Friday Fly-Fishing Film Festival, made up of the best videos from around the world.
The Orvis Fishing Reports and Conditions pages offer up-to-date reports, including stream and river flows, tides, recommended flies and equipment, and special fishing tips. At any given time, those waters that offer the very best fishing become part of the “Red Hot” list. To ensure that those making the reports aren’t exaggerating the quality of their local fishing, each reporter is allowed only four red hots per year per location, so they only rank their spot red hot when it’s truly outstanding.
Most Fridays, we highlight those waters that offer the best fishing for the weekend. Listening to Taylor Edrington’s video report make me want to fly out to Colorado right now. Seems like the. . .
We’re introducing a new feature at OrvisNews.com, in which we ask well-known anglers and guides to give us their Top 10 patterns. Sometimes the list will be species- or water-specific, but we’ll also feature collections of flies you should never be without, no matter where or when you are fishing. Obviously, these are subjective lists—based on. . .
Welcome to another edition of the OrvisNews.com Friday Film Festival, in which we scour the web for the best fly-fishing footage available. This week’s collection has got it all: freshwater, warmwater, and saltwater action. From the chilly northeast of Norway to the marlin-filled waters off the coast of Australia, anglers continue to produce high-quality footage for the rest of us who can’t be there. But it’s not just entertainment: there’s educational value here, as well. Did you ever want. . .
In years past, when fly fishers wanted to commemorate a fish-of-a-lifetime, they often had to sacrifice the fish itself for a skin mount. In more recent times, catch-and-release has become the common practice, and anglers now rely primarily on wood carvings, fiberglass molds, and photos to recall that day and show the fish to other anglers. But many of us are not very good photographers, and, frankly, many wood and fiberglass mounts don’t bring the fish to “life” as much as one hopes.
Ok, so the video isn’t the best quality we’ve ever seen, and the narration is in Italian. But we all know the language of fly fishing the flats and that surge of a bonefish when it takes off and the reel sings.
This is the picture I should have been posting this morning, but alas I didn’t “take my chance” when it presented itself. So I must be content with this imaginary brown trout.
photo-illustration by James Daley
In this country, the phrase “to take your chances” usually means to try something that may end up being a disaster—as in “You’re taking your chances driving on those bald tires.” But across the pond, they have another way of using this phrase.
I watch a lot of English soccer (which they call “football,” of course), and they use slightly different wording to express something quite different from the American version. To “take your chance,” in this instance, means to make the most of the chances presented to you. So, for instance, if a player is presented with a good look at goal and buries the ball in the back of the net, the announcer will say that he “has taken his chance well.” Alternatively, the losing coach might say that the reaon his team lost was that they “didn’t take their chances.” Because good scoring chances come infrequently in soccer, you must “take your chances” if you want to win.
This meaning of the phrase was driven home for me early this morning on the Battenkill. Eric Rickstad and I hit the water at 5 a.m., hoping to tempt some big. . .
Had anyone told me two years ago that I would be waking up at 5 a.m. to get down to the Tidal Basin and fly fish before work, or spending my days off trolling the C&O Canal with my boss, I’d have had them committed. Aside from the fact that the last time I’d done any fishing, I was still missing teeth and wearing a turquoise Power Rangers t-shirt, I had somehow gone 22 years living in Washington, DC completely unaware that you could, in fact, fish here.
[Editor’s note: For the next few months, we will be featuring entries from Gordon M. Wickstrom’s The History of Fishing for Trout with Artificial Flies in Britain and America: A Chronology of Five Hundred Years, 1496 to 2000. In this chronology, Gordon marks significant events—the publication of seminal books, tackle developments, important social changes, the dissemination of trout species beyond their native ranges, etc.—on both sides of the Atlantic.]
The Gurgler, invented by the late fly tier and iconoclast Jack Gartside, is one of those all-around useful patterns than will catch everything from panfish to tarpon. It’s sort of the topwater version of a Woolly Bugger, and like the Bugger, it can be tied in many different sizes and colors, with a variety of materials and accoutrements. Gartside wrote about his creation: . . .
Who doesn’t dream of just hitting the open road in an RV with good friends and some fly fishing along the way? Well, the women of Sisters on the Fly don’t just dream about it; they do it. It’s inspiring. And it inspires more than just me. The story of their treks made it into the June issue of O, The Oprah magazine.