Review

[ED: I like this fly rod, but Orvis seems to no longer sell the ZeroGravity series (abandoned in favor of the Helios fly rods), so this is more fly rod eulogy than fly rod review at this point]

I’m mostly a bamboo and fiberglass guy, meaning I like rods that bend easily.

I think concerns about weight are way overblown, so as a result, modern, high-quality (and high-priced) graphite isn’t much in evidence in my rod closet.

So when I had the chance to score a high-end Orvis rod (disclosure: a trade) I went for a rod that played to graphite’s better qualities: a big fish/high winds/sinking line/streamer rod.

I went with a 9′ 6wt in the Orvis “mid flex” (7.5 flex), figuring I’d feel more at home with the taper than with the “tip flex” rods which I don’t much care for.

The wraps are simple, and the deep red blank is handsome.

I’ve fished the rod four times under winter conditions (it’s a special-purpose rod after all–if I waited until I used it a dozen times you’d be reading this a year from now), including a couple brief flings with a streamer, casting a dry, and [sigh] nymphing.

First.

I have some serious doubts about technology being the one true path to fly rod happiness, but I will say Orvis got the cosmetics right.

The Zero Gravity comes in a gorgeous, pebbled finish red tube, and the blank itself is handsome, deep red color. Pretty.

The wraps are clean and neat (what you’d expect from a high-end rod), and the guides appear to be standard

The new Orvis reel seats are shapely (and clearly lightweight) affairs, though they’re overshadowed a bit by the 7″ reverse wells grip, which is (to my preference) too long, though the center swell fills the hand nicely.

Of course, that kind of grip is pretty standard on today’s production rods, and if you’re a total pain in the ass about a grip, you’re probably buying custom rods anyway.

Gorgeous reel seat.

Enough About Pretty. Is it Manly?

You knew we’d get around to this eventually. First, this rod is–as advertised–as light as you’d expect it to be.

I know some fly fishers who obsess over the loss of an eighth of an ounce off their fly rod, a practice any bamboo fly rod guy finds oddly misplaced, but then, Sage, Loomis and others have been selling this kind of technology (with great success) for years, so you can hardly blame Orvis for following suit.

According to Orvis, the Zero Gravity rods use a thermoplastic resin, boron fibers and a unidirectional carbon scrim to produce blanks that are “25% stronger yet 25% thinner than comparable blanks, and 40% lighter.”

Clearly, fly rods are growing lighter, and as I understand it, the challenge nowadays is to retain some semblance of strength in the things, which I understand to be the real reason they went to the thermoplastic resin.

All I can say for sure is the rod didn’t break, and an Orvis dealer I spoke to said he had yet to see a broken one. And sadly, I haven’t yet fought a 28″ steelhead on the thing to truly test it.

If I do, you’ll hear about it soon enough.

So let’s just say the rod is clearly competitive on the technology front, give durability a tentative checkmark, and move on.

How Does it Fish?

Simply put, it casts nicely. Given that all high modulus graphite rods feel stiff to my hand, I found this rod a surprisingly smooth caster.

The tip was light enough to fish well at close range, yet the rod was certainly capable of throwing a lot of line. A lot.

My first tendency with a lot of modern graphite rods is to throw a heavier line on the thing to try and squeeze some semblance of feel out of the thing, and I was happily surprised to discover this Zero G rod didn’t need that.

Wayne Eng cast the rod and also felt it was “true” 6wt, so Orvis clearly got this part of the taper right.

Also surprising was the all-around “troubability” of the thing: modern freshwater 6wts are typically only fished over big trout and small steelhead, so you wouldn’t expect 6x delicacy from the thing, though in fact I did land a feisty 15″ trout on a 6x nymph dropper.

Score one for reasonable tapers.

I also threw a weighted streamer for a while, and the rod was certainly up to the job, though I have yet to find a rod where that kind of activity might be considered fun.

Of course, if high-modulus graphite rods have a sweet spot, it’s centered directly over nymphing, and I can say two things with certainty:

1. This rod nymphs extremely well–it’s strong enough to pitch a couple shot and excels at setting the hook. If I was a nymph fisher, I’d use this rod fulltime.
2. If fly fishing was only about indicator nymphing, I’d take up bowling.

All-Rounder

In truth, I was surprised at how nice the rod was, though I’m not busy listing my 5wt bamboo and glass rods for sale.

It’s at testament to the flexibility of medium tapers that this would probably make a nice all-around rod if you primarily fished freestone rivers or lakes, especially in windy/big fly situations.

If you were buying a rod specifically for flinging streamers the size of squirrels, then I’d do what Ian Rutter suggests and get a 7wt.

Still, if you were into high-tech rods and wanted a powerful-yet-all-around 6wt that fished lakes, stoneflies and freestoners (on windy days no less), then I’d have to give the Zero Gravity a thumbs up.

It would make a great windy-day back up to a 4wt that you could keep fishing after the wind died down (on anything short of a spring creek) and not give much away in terms of fishability or even tippet protection.

For a backwards, low-modulus kind of guy like myself, this is clearly a special-purpose rod, but–unlike some of the steeper, faster taper graphite rods I’ve tried–I could fish this one a large percentage of the time and not feel like I’d died and been sent to fly fishing hell for swearing on the Internet.

It’s a reasonable, fishable 6wt that does some things extremely well, which is about all you can really ask from a fly rod.

Orvis makes a damned pretty rod tube.

[tags]orvis, fly rod, orvis fly rod, zero gravity, zero gravity fly rod, graphite fly rod[/tags]

I’ve long used studded felts on the Upper Sac; they provided good grip on most surfaces, but my constant hiking along the sharp-rocked beds of the railroad tracks quickly wore away the felt around the studs.

After a few months, I was left with spiked wading boots that skated on smooth surfaces, grated noisily on rounded rocks, and drove me to distraction.

Regular felt was an option, but one that lacked longevity on the sharp railroad bed rocks. I needed another option.

Rubber Sole

Grippy rubber soles have been around for a few years, but my first experience wasn’t stellar. I’d tried a pair of plain rubber Aqua Stealths, but found them sadly wanting on algae-coated cobbles.

Still, early in the year, local guide Steve Bertrand told me his studded rubber soles didn’t grip as well as the felt, but they’d lasted the better part of two seasons.

Aha! Longevity.

After weighing the costs of re-soling, I bought a pair of studded rubber Weinbrenners, figuring they’d make tolerable winter boots even if they weren’t suited for everyday use (hedging your bet is a useful rationalization when buying fishing gear).

The testing began.

Seventy Percenters

After five months of steady use, the soles are still in excellent shape. I’d rate them excellent for longevity (I’ll know more in a couple years).

The constantly evolving Weinbrenner uppers used to be a mixed bag, but they’ve done away with many of the stitching problems I experienced on my earlier Weinbrenners.

The wading itself? It’s a mix. On dry steamside rock they’re outstanding – way better than studded felt.

On in-stream rocks with little or no slime, they were good.

On rounded, slimed covered rocks they were… well, let’s say they had 70% the grip of studded felts.

I haven’t fallen yet, but hitting the “greased cobble” stretches of the river without a wading staff is a non-starter. Still, I’m wearing them every day and not regretting it. So far, so good.

Break-in Period

Bob Grace of the Ted Fay Fly Shop suggested they’d grip better once the edges wore away a bit and sole became more rounded.

I haven’t experienced that, but then, my soles don’t exhibit much wear. Therein lies the charm. These should last a long time – probably as long as a pair of studded felts and one or two re-sole jobs.

That’s attractive because I like to fish good, reliable gear – stuff that’s ready to go without a lot of babying or repair.

Weighing the Pros and Cons

Everything is a compromise. For a cheap bastard like myself, the compromises here seem acceptable. In addition to the everyday longevity, I get a boot that grips very well when dry rock hopping. And the soles are denser, more protective, and more comfortable than felt while hiking.

They also seem to be laterally stiffer than felts, protecting my feet from wedging and torqueing.

Finally, studded rubber doesn’t add several inches of ice to your boots when hiking through the snow – a real downer when fishing felts in the winter.

Buy, or Not?

If I fished the Pit River exclusively, I’d think twice about these boots, probably going with studded felt instead. If I fished small streams, spring creeks or other easy wading rivers, they’d be a no-brainer.

If you hike extensively in wading boots – especially over sharp rocks – you’d have to consider studded rubber soles.

Those who often fish from drift boats will find the studs don’t mar boat surfaces as badly as most studded felts (probably because the studs don’t protrude as far from the sole).

For everyday use on the Upper Sacramento River? I’ve been wearing mine almost exclusively this season, and I have no plans to switch back.

I’m giving up some grip – and that’s not a fun thought – but I’m gaining other tangible benefits (like avoiding re-soling the things every 6-9 months).

For their longevity, dryland performance and passable wet performance, the Underground gives the Weinbrenner studded rubber soled wading boots 3.5 roll casts (out of a possible 5).

Specifics

Weinbrenner’s studded rubber wading boot costs $137. Simms also makes a studded rubber boot, though be prepared to pay the Simms premium price ($160). Others make studded rubber boots, and because it’s footwear, I’d check with my retailer about trying some one.

The Weinbrenner “fit” is very roomy, and most people report no problems adding orthotics or insoles to the boots (a good idea if you have a narrow or low volume foot).

The Simms are also roomy, though with more of a hiking boot fit. For those that care, the Weinbrenners are made in the USA, while the Simms are produced overseas.
[tags]weinbrenner, wading boot, wading, fly fishing, aqua stealth[/tags]