Posts tagged: fiberglass fly rod

Cortland Releases (Again) Diamondback Fiberglass Fly Rods in 2011? (or, We’re In Love)

November 3, 2010, by Tom Chandler 26 comments

I’ve raved repeatedly about the Underground’s love for Diamondback’s “Diamondglass” fly rods (hey, it’s a manly love), which quickly built a cult following among the low-modulus set.

If my bamboo fly rods were declared illegal by the United Nations and the black helicopters came for them, I could still happily fish my Diamondglass rods on streams and spring creeks.

They’re that good.

Unfortunately, the entire line disappeared from view once Cortland bought the Diamondback company, and much sadness ensued.

Until now.

Formerly black, they now are blue...

Cortland is bringing back the line for 2011 (though we believe the blanks are being produced by an independent rodmaker). The old blanks were black but the new seem to be sporting a deep blue color (we’re all for a little personality here). Otherwise, they look similar to the originals.

Here’s the lineup:

6′ 2 wt. 2 pc
6’6â€ 3 wt. 2 pc
7′ 3 wt. 3 pc
7’6â€ 3 wt. 3 pc
8′ 4 wt. 3 pc
8’6â€ 4 wt. 3 pc

I liked my 8.5′ 4wt so much I bought a backup blank (it’s here somewhere), and I’ve received more than a few emails over the years asking if I knew of a source for used rods, which were fetching “like-new” prices.

Sadly, I don’t see the wonderfully smooth 8′ 5wt 3-pc rod listed, and wonder about the 8′ 4wt rod, which used to be a 2-pc model (and a little teensy bit fast for me).

Perhaps moving to a 3-pc design slowed it a little (and if so, I’m getting one).

At $299, the rods aren’t exactly free for the taking, but they’re a lot less than bamboo or high-end graphite.

Besides, it’s hard to put a price on love.

See you at the counter, Tom Chandler.

The Distracted Small Stream Fly Fisherman (or, How To Spend Your Day Tugging on Branches)

July 1, 2010, by Tom Chandler 4 comments

Normally, it doesn’t take long to settle into a fly fishing groove.

You set foot in moving water, your vision goes a little dark around the edges, and… it happens.

You’re just fly fishing.

Life recedes.

Blotting out everyday noise is one of The Big Attractions of fly fishing, but things don’t always work like they do in fruity, overwrought fly fishing essays.

The little stimulator scores again

Like my latest trip to Stream Y.

I fished well enough at first, and caught a handful of nice brown trout right off the bat, but never really fell into the groove.

It’s the downside of fishing in the grip of distractions – work, a lack of sleep, and even some Underground-related stuff (suggesting that blogging about fly fishing doesn’t always add to the experience).

The L&T says there are times my mind simply won’t turn off, which explains the bouts of insomnia, a tendency to work odd hours, and an astounding ability to sulk (I’m a world-class sulker if given the chance).

Pay Attention

Small stream fly fishing requires a certain amount of 360-degree awareness – especially in what you’d have to call a “snag-rich environment.”

Willows, pines, brush and a staggering amount of deadfall clutter Stream X – to the point there’s almost always something lurking behind you.

When I’m fishing the Upper Sac’s fall BWO hatches – making 30′-60′ casts to spooky trout – I can live with a certain amount of tunnel vision. The only impediments to making the cast are the cast itself and spooky trout – not a fly eating, velcro-needled pine tree.

Fish with that same narrowed focus on Stream X, and you’ll spend most of your time reaching for flies wrapped around branches – which are always two inches higher than you are.

It’s not as if I got fed up and broke my fly rod over my knee. I fished a wonderful 8′ Steffen 5wt that doesn’t get nearly the use it should, and in any case, I’m not a rod-breaker.

Attention to detail is everything on small streams, and I lacked it is all.

Life intrudes, and the sun passes overhead. Fini.

The Gritty Details

I thought I might not make it to Stream Y due to residual snow, but I had it wrong; the snow was gone, and I basically drove right up to the stream.

That sentence lacks the drama normally provided by outdoor writers, but there it is.

I just drove there.

At least I’d timed the wildflowers right.

And then I noticed the stream was very high. Out of its banks even.

Pretty and all, but the stream's about 4x it's usual width.

Still clear. And still fishable. But it demanded a few adaptations.

Instead of the silky-smooth Diamondglass 8′ 5wt, I went for the backup 8′ 5wt Steffen glass rod, which is a bit stronger in the butt section and a little faster in the taper department.

A faster rod is nice when it’s windy (it was), and handy for lifting fly line off fast-moving water before it gets sucked into a snag or sweeper (which happened anyway).

The 8' Steffen glass rod was (wait for it)... the perfect choice. Too many fly rods?? Never.

I was also planning to wet wade (in nylon pants), but the high water – and flooded marshy areas – convinced me to throw on waders.

I don’t know about you, but hiking through syrupy, wet knee-deep marshy stuff creeps me out.

Later – when I stepped into a a solid-looking piece of earth and sank in up to my crotch, I was very happy I’d gone with waders.

The fishing itself wasn’t demanding, though a few surprises stick with me.

First, the bite got worse as the day progressed.

That’s counter to my normal small stream experience, and suggests the water level was changing more rapidly than I thought.

Given that huge swaths of dry land were clearly under water just a day or two ago, I’d say the water was falling fast – and the fish were adjusting to it by not eating my flies.

Bastards.

I hooked ten, landed eight, and missed a handful of others.

Like my previous trips to another small brown trout stream, I noticed a lack of little fish. All but one fish was 8″ or bigger, which was gratifying, but not exactly normal.

I’m falling back on the idea that three years of drought have kept brown trout populations in check, allowing the remaining specimens to grow a little bigger.

Frankly, we’ll know if I’m blowing smoke next year – after this fall’s spawn.

The mosquito population definitely hadn’t suffered the last couple years, and while it wasn’t as horrifying as last year’s trip with Singlebarbed, it did force a few concessions.

Like dressing like a colorblind ninja:

Looks silly, works great (no bites!)

More information is coming about the “bargain buff-style” neck gaiter/headwrap, which is definitely the way to go when the mosquitoes are turning you into a quivering, irritated fly fisherman.

I’m not a big fan of Deet (it eats fly lines and bamboo fly rod finishes, so tell me why I’m smearing it on my body again).

Fortunately, you run into few people on small streams (and almost no one you know), though I did speak to an oldtimer who’d been camping around Stream X since 1965.

He told the usual story: the fish were bigger when the people were scarcer, but interestingly, he also said the cattle that had hammered the stream by late summer weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the stream.

Convenient for somebody’s cows, but less enthralling for fly fisherman. I’m going to keep tabs on that situation this year.

After all, we’ve got plenty of cows, but damned few cool little trout streams.

See you on the stream (looking like a colorblind Ninja), Tom Chandler

We'll leave you with a little small stream zen

The Small Stream Fly Fisherman Meets High Water, Decides It’s a Bonus, Not a Curse (or, The Brown Trout Decide For Him)

June 15, 2010, by Tom Chandler 21 comments

Stepping out of the Underground’s ageing Toyota pickup (1987 vintage, broken tailgate, rusting muffler) I got an eyeful; the flows on my “small stream” were high.

Very high.

Still, the water was clear, and you can choose to get cranky about the high flows, or you can revel in the knowledge you’ve found one of the few potentially fishable streams in the county.

It's running high, but clear. Gift, or bust? (hint: read on)

I opted for Choice #2.

Revelry got a lot easier just two casts into the trip; I hooked and landed a 12″ brown trout – a far better-than-respectable trout in this water.

A few minutes later, a 10″ brown trout got frisky with my #12 Stimulator.

The water is high, but the brown trout are willing. This is good.

“Ok,” I told myself.

This high water thing is usually bad, but this time it’s OK.

Helping that impression along is the largely water-starved nature of this stream.

Simply put, it was nice to see some water in it.

Traditionally, it’s fishable only in spring; later in the year, diversions tend to be hard on the flows and the trout population.

In fact, I wondered if three years of drought hadn’t hammered the juvenile brown trout recruitment rates (brownies spawn in the fall).

Out of the ten I hooked, only one fish was under 8″ – a fairly dramatic reversal of “normal” for this stream.

One brown trout buried himself in the grass, but like an ostrich, left something showing...

Given my deep and abiding interest in pure science, I plan to continue this research at the first opportunity (no need to thank me for my selflessness).

My time was limited (about three hours fishing for two hours of driving – a slightly better than break-even proposition), though after the first couple fish, I fell into that familiar pattern where you’re far more concerned with how you’re going to fish the next pool than you are the state of the economy (even your personal economy).

It’s one of the reasons we fly fish, though we never seem to realize it at the time, which I suppose is kinda the point.

"Should I feel like a putz, or what?"

The Fish Stuff

I fished an 8′ 5wt Diamondglass fiberglass fly rod – a truly supple, wonderful, seductive fly rod you’ll end up cursing if the wind gets too strong.

The wind only blew up towards the end of my trip, so I maintained a mostly family friendly atmosphere, which wasn’t the triumph I’m suggesting (I never saw another person).

I tied on a #12 Stimulator at the start and fished it most of the time, and given the fly-eating-tree-rich environment, I didn’t miss the spool of 4x tippet I forgot to buy after my last trip (I fished 3x instead, and at times, I was pretty happy about it).

A fair picture of the "normal" level of difficulty. Not real hard, but not so easy you could forget for even a minute...

This is hardly the toughest stream I’ve fished, but it is one of the sneakiest; every once in a while it throws an easy stretch at you, dulling your predatory edge and causing you to toss your next five backcasts into a tree.

At least that’s my current working theory (it’s not possible I’d ever screw up on my own).

The high, clear water also presented something of a trap for unwitting fly fishermen (well, one of them anyway).

Several times I found myself wasting time on a gorgeous-looking stretch of water, only to realize it didn’t hold fish at “normal” flows, so it wasn’t all that likely to hold trout during high flows.

Sure enough, all my trout came from the runs and pools that routinely held fish, while the normally barren-but-fishy-looking edge sproduced nothing (apparently I’m a real sucker for submerged grass lines).

At some point, I may get this predatory fly fishing stuff figured out, but then again, I may not, which may also be kinda the point.

The Snake Stuff

I ended my trip on a meadow stretch, which is pretty as hell, but tough to fish. For those keeping track, meadows offer unobstructed backcasts, but compensate the trout with unobstructed views of approaching fly fishermen.

Oy, the wildflowers...

Wildflowers were blooming, and the stream was running high enough to flood the meadow, which made knee-walkiing like a sneaky bastard largely impossible. (With the water already more than knee deep, knee-walking would have felt suspiciously like swimming.)

I did manage to practically step on a snake that I immediately identified as a Deadly South Pacific Coral Snake, though later – while I was looking for a place to have my heart attack – it occurred to me it may have been a simple Garter Snake pretending to be a Coral Snake.

It seems the reptiles get trickier every year.

See that dark green line in the background? That's the stream.

In simple terms, it was a beautiful couple of hours on a beautiful stream, and if you subscribe to the thinking that record snowpacks and fast-warming temperatures probably will dampen the fly fishing, it was also something of a gift.

The stream was high but the bonus-sized brown trout were willing, and coming on the heels of one of those probing family discussions about money, time, work, the future and Little M’s college fund, it was probably more winning lottery ticket than simple gift.

See you on a small stream (but not this small stream), Tom Chandler.

Friday’s Fiberglass Fly Rod Gossip (And Real News Too)

March 18, 2010, by Tom Chandler 15 comments

The Undergrounders know of my love for low modulus fly rods – namely bamboo and fiberglass.

Of the two, fiberglass is far more accessible; it’s light, affordable, tough, and requires about as much maintenance as your average doorstop.

That’s why news in the fiberglass fly rod industry piques our interest (nay it excites us).

First, the Juicy Rumor

An Alert Anonymous Undergrounder tells us Cortland *will* return selected Diamondglass rods to production, courtesy not their overseas plants, but a USA-based builder.

Regulars will know of my love for the 8.5′ Diamondglass 4wt – a rod I told everyone to buy when they could, because – like many discontinued-but-classic fly rods – they’d miss it when it was gone.

Today, I see used Diamondglass 8.5′ rods selling for full retail, and should they once again become available, I predict solid sales of both rods and blanks (you can never have too much fly rod goodness).

More as this glass news happens.

Glass Goodness From the Left Coast

Larry Kenney – longtime industry stalwart and former Scott rod biggie – announced he’d completed development of his own fiberglass fly rods, and was commencing production.

The Fiberglass Manifesto site ran Kenney’s announcement – including a list of rods (the 8’3″ 4/5 sounds tasty, as does the 7’9″ 3wt) and prices ($580-$595).

Unfortunately, he’s (so far) limiting himself to 25 rods per year, but hey – they’re still hundreds less than high-end graphite.

And because your fly rod happiness is all that really matters to me, I’ll speak freely of things heard on the downlow.

One extremely well-versed fly rod tester test-cast Kenney’s prototypes some time ago, and was impressed. And when he’s impressed, I’m impressed.

See you at the fly rod rack, Tom Chandler

Fly Fishing Your Home Waters, Wherever They Are

June 30, 2009, by Tom Chandler 12 comments

The power of fly fishing lies not with its practitioners, writers, pundits, chest beaters, equipment manufacturers, or even its high modulus rods.

Fly fishing is something we engage in for reasons of fun or sanity instead of revenue or food gathering, so in other words, it’s an emotional thing, which allows us significant latitude when we talk about it.

Home waters are a state of mind - not GPS coordinates.

He lives miles away, but he's on his home waters.

For example, the concept of “home water” clearly isn’t geographic in nature, but a matter of the heart.

One fly fisherman can tell another his “home waters” are literally halfway around the globe, and the second fly fisherman won’t bat an eye.

That’s because his “home waters” are a five hour drive to the north (the last ten miles on dirt roads), and while humanity is generally poor at accepting alien perspectives, fly fishermen do sometimes make worthwhile exceptions.

That’s why I tend to seek out smaller, wilder waters even though I live on a beautiful freestoner. It’s not because blueline fishing is “easy” (for the record, nothing’s easy when you’re fishing from your knees or crawling through bushes).

It’s because the fishing is – to leverage a pair of overused words – intimate and predatory at the same time, a combination I find irresistible.

A Brown Trout just after he made a mistake.

The Latest Small Stream Experience

Which leads us to the actual small stream fishing report (not the fictional version posted here), where I invited Singlebarbed along to serve as bait for the hordes of mosquitoes while I fly fished.

It only partially worked.

In fact, it didn’t work at all; the mosquitoes were on us like makeup on a politician the second we opened the truck doors, and I’m not even going to try and describe the horrific events that followed when I whizzed in the woods prior to throwing on my waders.

I’m having a flashback just writing about it.

Singlebarbed quickly doused himself in gallons of his vintage Muskol repellent – a product made from 100% Deet. A highly effective mosquito repellent, it’s become clear that DEET works by altering your DNA to the point that mosquitoes no longer recognize you as a mammal.

That reduces the number of bites by a considerable portion, but your friends will wonder why you’ve got another hand growing out your elbow.

It’s a trade off, but when the payoff is a small stream, a lot of trick casts, and a few willing brown trout, I’ll take mutation any day.

Blah Blah Blah Small Stream.

The fishing itself wasn’t dramatic, but it was – for want of a better term – pure. The casting was difficult, the fish gorgeous, and the setting unreally pretty.

Can you see him? That's an 8" trout.

I rarely see photographs of myself fly fishing (I’m usually taking the pictures), but when most every picture shows you hunched behind a bush or casting from your knees, you realize you’re reverting from “civilized behavior” (which isn’t very civilized at all) into a predator – without really noticing it.

The result was a fishing trip where you stop your pursuit of trout every few minutes to appreciate what you’ve submerged yourself in, and even then you still can’t quite grasp it.

Sometimes it’s almost as if you’re an actor in an unbelievably boring (to the world), wildly perfect movie, as if perfection can’t be achieved in every day life.

Fish Parts

This fishing itself wasn’t that dramatic, and rather than risk repeating my recent small stream reports, I’ll simply say this:

The fishing was largely good, though like most small streams, it turned on and off suddenly.

A rare Underground fiberglass fly rod photo (we're human).

A rare Underground fiberglass fly rod photo (we're only human).

We arrived a little too early, and one run yielded exactly nothing. Two hours later we passed the same run, this time mining it for six pretty brown trout.

It’s easy to fall for the hype (anti-hype?) that small stream fish are dumb and easy – eating everything that floats by – but the truth lies pretty far from that statement.

Like anything almost perfectly in tune with their environment, they dance to a tune that us clumsy, smelly humans have largely forgotten (or are simply ignoring).

Fish Parts 2

I can’t explain it in explicit terms, but it’s clear I’ve become fascinated with pictures of brown trout parts. Like most trout, they’re more colorful than they’d seemingly need to be, and while I won’t say I’m tired of rainbow trout, I can say the brightly colored brown trout offer a nice break from silver.

How would you describe that color with words?

What color exactly would you call that?

Sure, he's upside down, but check out the colors.

Wave good-bye.

The Fly Fishing Itself

The fishing itself was alternately too hard, too easy, too frustrating and too overwhelming to write about.

Befitting our shared status as geezers, Singlebarbed fished an old Fenwick HMG fly rod (8.5′ 5wt), while I dragged out my old-style Diamondglass 8′ 5wt – a rod so sweet you could descend into a diabetic coma just by waving it.

Geezer Gear (I'm starting a fly fishing clothing line)

Authentic Geezer Gear (I'm starting a new fly fishing line by that name)

And I won’t even bore you with fly selection (though Humpies are our friends).

The bite was damned slow in the morning, but picked up midday. In truth, you don’t need high-end gear or boxes of flies to fish a small stream, but you’d better come equipped with a good roll cast and a great deal of accuracy.

See you on your home waters, Tom Chandler.

Bye!

This Fly Fishing Report Includes: Stoneflies, Fiberglass Fly Rods, Runoff, and Big Pictures

May 4, 2009, by Tom Chandler 7 comments

Fly fishing in spring is a pretty hit or miss affair out here; the water levels surge about the same time spring fever reaches untenable levels. Fortunately, we’ve got choices – one of which Wayne and I exercised on Saturday.

"What are you looking at? Think emerging's easy, what with all the fish trying to eat you? Go away."

Wayne’s a guide, so part of his spring drill is to look for fishable water, which at this time of the year is a crap shoot.

I’m not going to spill the beans on the fishable water we found (do that after a scouting trip and you’ll never go fishing with a guide again), but I will say the Upper Sacramento and Upper McCloud rivers weren’t great options, and that we visited a couple other places that also didn’t look promising.

Most rivers were running high (Upper Sac’s yo-yoing between 3000 and 7000 cfs), so when we ended up on what amounted to a freestone-style spring creek – one where salmonflies were just starting to make an appearance – you could say we savored the experience just a little.

Hey look - some dolt left a fly rod on a bridge.

The fly fishing was steady, though catching only stocked trout was a teensy bit less than inspiring.

I under five minutes, I “limited out” on rubber trout from a single medium-sized bucket (hint: you can’t quite see it in the picture above). Later, we hiked up the stream a bit hoping that between the salmonflies, olives, and what appeared to be Pink Alberts coming off, we’d find rising fish (we didn’t).

And yes, there were rumors of Brook trout in this stretch, and the Underground’s poor, overworked heart would have soared if I’d manage to land one, but alas – like Romeo & Juliet – it was never meant to be.

Some of the stocked trout were still damned pretty (despite not having fins)

I briefly considered altering a rainbow trout photograph into a Brookie photograph using image software – a Pyrrhic Photoshop victory at best – but realized the beauty of things left undone is the excuse they provide to go back and fish a creek, stream or river.

We catch troutÂ and let them go, so there’s really no sane reason we have to fly fish anywhere (though I’m clearly willing to invent one).

We saw what looked like two different-sized bugs

The good news is the stoneflies are starting to get active, though the trout weren’t on them in any concerted way. All my fish came on the small nymph I cleverly dropped off the back of my dry fly, though Wayne was later able to scare up a few grabs on the big dry.

The Gear Stuff

Wayne & I continued the Underground’s extensive Rubber-Soled Wading Boot Testing Program, switching boots midday to see how they compared on the same stream.

Frankly, on the uneven volcanic rock, both boots performed admirably, and in fact, this might be one of those applications where rubber outperforms felt.

I left the Simms boots with Wayne, who will be giving them further testing over the next couple days, once again illustrating the lengths to which we’re willing to go make your life better.

I fished a Diamondglass 8.5′ 4wt fiberglass fly rod that was frankly perfect for light nymphing, though I had an 8′ 5wt Raine Upper Sac Special bamboo fly rod in the truck in case we got on the stonefly bite in a big way.

Wayne fished another Underground Fave rod – an old Sage 389LL that probably should end up in the Smithsonian in the “Things Are Perfect As-Is And Should Have Been Left Alone But Weren’t” exhibit.

I also wore my Patagonia Insulator soft shell jacket, and found it (once again) perfect for the job on a drizzly, upper 40-degree day. And yes, I will try to get that final review written soon.

The River Stuff

The rivers aren’t looking all that grand right now; water levels are fluctuating rapidly (links to local river flow gauges can be found here), and yes, it’s raining as I write this. Our finally green lawn loves it, but it appears fly fishermen have different needs. Who’d have guessed?

See you on the river, Tom Chandler

Once more, with feeling.

The Underground Picks The Dozen Best Fly Rods of All Time (Period)

February 10, 2009, by Tom Chandler 248 comments

Nothing fires a discussion among fly fishing’s faithful more than the subject of fly rods. They are, after all, the most significant tools of the trade, and what’s more, fly fishermen love to argue.

The right fly rod feels like an extension of your arm; flies appear precisely where you’re looking (as if by magic), and landing trout is a pleasure.

Naturally, one man’s great fly rod is another’s pool cue or noodle, and yes, it’s just barely possible that my own personal bias has entered into the construction of this list, though just in case there are some questions about sanity choices, I wanted to lay out my criteria.

The Dozen Best Fly Rods of All Time? We pick, you argue.

The Underground’s Scientifically Derived Criteria

First, no current rods are included. History may decide the Orvis Helios or Winston Boron or Sage Z-Axis might be the most bizarrely named best fly rods ever, but I’m leaving those discussions to history. New rods are just that (new) – and they simply haven’t been around long enough to make the list.

Additionally, short production runs don’t really count. I truly believe the very best bamboo fly rods ever made are being built right now (by names like Ream, Brandin, Thramer, Johnson, Karstetter, Wojnicki, Raine, etc), but let’s face it – the combined lifetime output of those builders equals about one month’s production of Helios fly rods, and while I love my built-by-still-living-guys bamboo fly rods, they’ll never be cast by enough people to truly matter.

Similarly, no boutique rods really made the list – even though I could make a very cogent argument for the inclusion of a Steffen Brothers or McFarland glass rod or the little-known-but-much-lamented East Branch “classic” graphite. There simply aren’t enough floating around the fly fishing universe.

Then there’s the question of history; many will argue that today’s rods – the result of all sorts of materials and taper improvements – are the defacto “best” rods. Instead, I’m picking history’s best fly rods; the rods that set the pace in their era.

And finally, there’s the little issue of what “best” really means, and because I play with words for a living, I’m willing to suggest “best” is simply a reflection of criteria.

One rod may be lightest, another may cast beautifully, and another may be cheap. Which is the best?

Well, that’s why you’ve got the Underground. (We Report, We Decide.)

Of course, it’s possible the assembled Undergrounders have different ideas, and if you can write a solid-but-snarky justification (see below), I may create a followup “Underground Reader’s Choice” post (and who doesn’t want to be famous)? Naturally, saltwater and spey (two-hander) fly rods are wholly underrepresented in this list (with one exception), and I want to say right now that I’ve managed to avoid the slightest twinge of guilt about that.

The Dozen Best Fly Rods of All Time

Leonard Model 50(DF)
Sure, no two Leonards seem to cast anything alike and the craftsmanship varied widely over the decades (hell, it varied widely over the course of hours), but as Uber Rod Geek Rich Margiotta pointed out, the Leonard Model 50 set the early standard for light-tipped, Catskill-style dry fly rods – a remarkably enduring style of taper that’s still happily consumed by the masses today. And hey – you gotta start somewhere.

The Paul Young Perfectionist (7.5′ 4/5wt)
In truth, almost any of the Paul Young semi-parabolic rods could qualify for the Desirable Dozen; I picked the Perfectionist because I own the taper. The Para-15 is probably more famous and the better all-around rod, but the point here is that Paul Young created a more fishable version of the somewhat touchy full-parabolic tapers loved by Charles Ritz. A marketing whiz and astute businessman, Young also found a way to convert cosmetically challenged cane into a useful stuff via his “ring of fire” flaming process, and the Underground hates waste, so we find ourselves here. It’s perfection on a stick.

The Payne 100 (7.5′ 4wt)
It’s widely accepted that Payne consistently produced the best, long-lasting, most-consistent bamboo fly rods, and that even in the era of supercomputers, nanotechnology and widely available pizza, the Payne 100 taper simply can’t be improved. Over the course of decades, Payne bamboo fly rods have captured the hearts of fly fishermen for their castability, gorgeous finish, and elegant durability, and while the Payne 100 is a great example, it’s only one in a long of great examples of Payne workmanship. This is one time Payne is gain.

The Fenwick 7.5′ 5wt Feralite Fiberglass Fly Rod
In truth, the 8.5′ 6/7wt Fenwick glass rods were more popular, but everyone who’s been in fly fishing since the 70s has probably owned one of these chocolate brown beauties – wonderful fiberglass fly rods that brought a smooth-actioned, lightweight (for the time), glass-ferruled, great-fishing fly rod within reach of almost everyone. That the classic glass Fenwicks are experiencing something of a renaissance – along with an uptick in value – is hardly a surprise. Though heavy by the standards of today’s weight geeks, they’re still smooth fishing rods. What can brown do for you?

The 8.5′ 5wt IM6 Winston Fly rod
A classic that’s still available for sale (albeit at an amazingly inflated price), the IM6 Winston fly rods are testament to Tom Morgan’s influence on their design; light tipped and very smooth, they are superb all-around trout rods, and what’s more, they’re just plain fun to cast. And you don’t have to be a Winston partisan to believe the 8.5′ 5wt might be the “troutiest” rod in existence. Taken as a whole, the Winston IM6 fly rods may have logged more water time than any other fly rod on the market, and rightly so. Summary? The IM6 is still IMpressive.

The Loomis IMX 9′ 4wt
I’ll just say it: I’ve never cast a Loomis fly rod I particularly liked, but in an astonishing display of editorial integrity, I’m going to list a Loomis IMX, which is the rod line that – for better or worse – helped fuel the fly rod industry’s armsÂ race. I’m not at all sure the truth path to fly rod salvation lies in high tech, but I do know it’s a marketable differentiator, and that “new” continues to be the mechanism by which fly rods are made “obsolete” in the market’s eyes – and therefore ripe for replacement. As rods got faster, lighter line weights became commonplace, and with the rise of indicator nymphing, longer, lighter rods became popular. Hence the IMX 9′ 4wt – a rod I wouldn’t own, but a classic I must acknowledge.

Sage LL 389 (8’9″ 3wt)
Edging out Sage’s 490 LL, the 389 might have been one of the best spring creek/light fly fishing rods of all time, so naturally, Sage – marching to the tune of “more technology is better” – just had to discontinue it. Incredibly smooth, suggestively limber and an amazing fishing tool, the 389 remains one of the few rods that everyone from the bamboo fiends to the techno-rod-geeks can comfortably rave about. Inside dish from more than one industry source suggests Sage’s new line of “progressive” fly rods were designed to cast and fish like the much-missed Lightline rods, a bit of circular manufacturing that should amuse you, assuming you’re not paying today’s higher prices for “yesterday’s” action.

The Scott Heliply 8’8″ 8wt Saltwater Fly Rod
Sure, I’m totally winging it here; I know saltwater fly rods like Nestle knows ethical business practices. Still, I have it on very good authority the Heliply was one of those rods that was oddly discontinued, then forcibly brought back through the efforts of masses of keening saltwater fly fishers. In an era when “saltwater fly rod” was fast becoming code for “enjoy your tennis elbow,” the Heliply 8wt was a breath of surprisingly bendable fresh air – the reason the Heliply still enjoys a cult following.

Any Reasonably Tapered 8.5′-9′ 6wt
Sure, I’m cheating with this one, but that’s what writers do when they’re trying to make a point. The 6wt rod used to occupy trout fishing’s comfortable middle ground – the rod you’d toss in the truck when you weren’t absolutely sure what you’d be doing all day. Today, a 6wt is a borderline saltwater stick, and if you’re fishing a 6wt on the river and run into one of the “I fish a 2wt for everything” crowd, you’ll be viewed as something of a terrorist.

Funny thing is, the laws of physics have yet to be revoked by fly rod manufacturers (they seem to have successfully escaped the laws of economics), and a reasonably tapered 6wt will do everything from to throwing streamers and busy dries to fishing #22 midges with a reasonable amount of delicacy. I was tempted to award this slot to the “original” IM6 Winston 6wt or the Payne Canadian Canoe 6/7wt bamboo fly rod, but Ian Rutter pointed out the original G-series Scott was better than both, and I’ve learned not to disagree with people who let me stay at their house. Your choice.

The Eagle Claw Trailmaster 7.5′ Pack Rod
Just when you think we’re going to zig, we zag. The Trailmaster? A cheap pack rod that was also available as a spin/fly combo? That’s the one. Yeah, I know it’s clubby and awful, but it’s been available for pretty much forever, it was very affordable, and it probably introduced more conventional tackle fishermen to fly fishing than any other fly rod (remember, “best” is in the eyes of the beholder).

Today it’s available in a 98% graphite fly rod only version that looks pretty conventional, but for most of its life, it was a cheerful, happy yellow that belied the suffering that lay ahead for those attempting to learn fly fishing on their own. A great fly rod? Maybe only the way we define it (so sue me).

The Diamondglass 8.5′ 4wt Fiberglass rod
Sure, like a genius artist, the rod was largely underappreciated until it died (in the production sense), but we’re already seeing a healthy aftermarket in used models, and yes, the Underground has standing orders from two fly rod aficionados should I decide to sell my spare blank. Unbelievably smooth – and perhaps the best “technical” small fly rod in existence – this beauty may have been pure Plain Jane in appearance and construction, but the heart and soul of a rod lies in its taper, and this one has a halo and wings.

The 8′ 4wt Tom Morgan Favorite/8′ 4wt Scott G-Series
Another dual winner, this is an homage to the 8′ 4wt trout rod – perhaps the ideal rod for small to medium sized trout fishing. The Tom Morgan Favorite (that’s still available today from Winston as the “TMF”) is perhaps too soft for the current market, but it’s still a fine rod – as is the 8′ 4wt Scott original G-Series rod (since “updated” into a “crisper” fly rod with the G2 series [e.g. - even Scott rod enthusiasts are addicted to speed]).

The Almostas: The Rods That Didn’t Quite Make It

The runners-up list that didn’t quite qualify for the Dirty Dozen, but demanded a mention anyway. Most of these are simply historic rods; others were great, but didn’t quite make the list.

The Phillipson 8.5′ 5/6wt bamboo fly rods
I didn’t want to overload the list with bamboo, but let’s face it: Tommy likes the 8.5′ Phillipsons. I’ve cast the other heavy-hitter 8.5′ bamboo fly rod tapers, and none – not even the Payne 204 – measures up.

The Shakespeare Howald Process fiberglass fly rods
Pioneers in the hollow fly rod world, the Shakespeare Howalds were not pretty, not light, and not particularly durable (they had a tendency to saw themselves to pieces through extended use), but they were among the first good fiberglass rods to appear. We remember them thusly.

Phillipson Epoxite Registered Midge (6’6″ 4wt)
OK, this really only made the list because I badly want one (I just can’t afford to buy the few that are available). Still, it’s a defensible choice from a development standpoint; Bill Phillipson worked closely with 3M on several innovations, and pioneered the technique whereby synthetic rods are formed (on the mandrel) under high pressures, eliminating weakening voids in the blank. Thus, the Epoxite midge – in addition to its twin tips, gorgeous appearance, and homage to the ultra-short “midge rod” craze – also represents a technological highpoint in glass rod manufacturing, and the (sadly) near-final chapter in the Phillipson Rod Company saga. (Gifts of Epoxite Midges accepted by the Underground, and I’ll even let you name the replacement rod for the list.)

The San Francisco-era fiberglass Winstons
Just because, damnit.

Fenwick HMG Graphite fly rods
Those new to fly fishing are often surprised to hear that Fenwick was a leader before they faded into what amounts to cheap rod obscurity. Their classic glass rods made the “Dozen Best” list, and these HMG graphites were among the first affordable graphite fly rods. Frankly, I still find their willowy actions enchanting, but after their initial burst of popularity, they faded from the market (like the company). Too bad.

The Chico-era Powell Light Touch
Before the Powell family fragemented the name – and Charles Schwabb burned his fingers trying to resurrect it – the smooth-casting Powell Light Touch fly rods were wonderful fly rods that just missed the fashion tastes of the post-movie fly fishing generation. Too bad.

I was tempted to erect a Hall of Shame for the wholly mediocre, wildly overhyped rods that bedevil us (and yes, I’m talking to you, Sage RPL+ parking lot rods), but perhaps I’ll leave that to my readers.

Have at it, Undergrounders. Make your case for the “Next Dozen Best Fly Rods Every Built” in the comments, and we’ll see about a Part II.

See you at the rod rack, Tom Chandler.

The Upper Sacramento Fly Fishing Report: I Told You. But Did You Listen?

December 8, 2008, by Tom Chandler 12 comments

A week ago I told the Undergrounders the October Caddis bite was continuing, and that those without financial responsibilities (or a poorly defined moral sense about these things) should head up for stellar dry fly fishing.

Hell, I even threw you a bone about a couple good places to eat.

Well, Undergrounders, your time is waning; Wayne Eng and I found the October Caddis bite (the big, big dry) still working on the Upper Sacramento, though it’s clearly winding down.

Wayne Eng fly fishing the Upper Sacramento River
One of only a few pictures worth showing; Wayne high-sticks a big dry.

Is there still time to abandon your family and catch trout on big dries in the afternoon? Probably. Will it last forever? Certainly not.

By this time last year, we were past our first big snow storm of the year, and I was well into my wrestling match with Satan’s Snowblower.

This year, it’s been cold at night, but the days are clear and sunny, temporarily prolonging the October Caddis dry fly bite.

In truth, it’s something to marvel at; you’re wearing layers of warm clothing, the water’s cold enough to sting your fingers, there’s ice on the rocks, yet good-sized trout are eating #8 dry flies off the surface.

Fly Fishing By the Numbers

Wayne and I descended into a canyon section of the river, looking not so much for numbers of trout as a couple better specimens. It didn’t work out that way – I landed four in the footlong range and lost more than that to slow/poor/limp-wristed hook sets (it’s a big fly), and Wayne did about the same.

Rainbow trout gill plate
Closeup, flash-lit photo of today’s star attraction; these trout are gorgeous.

Leaves carpet the banks of the river, and trees are completely bare. In short, it’s what winter looks like on the Upper Sacramento (sans snow, and we’re going to talk about that in a bit).

The canyon stretch was dark enough that 80% of the pictures were unusable due to camera shake (the result of too little light and too-slow shutter speeds).

I fished an 8.5′ 5wt Steffen Brothers fiberglass fly rod, which Wayne tried and promptly wanted to steal. One thing’s true of good glass rods – everybody who tries one is well and truly surprised by the experience, and about half want to buy one immediately.

Tom Chandler Fly Fishing the Upper Sacramento River
Our intrepid blogger trying to be sneaky (I missed this fish). [Wayne Eng photo]

I’ve said it before (and because I post often I’m doomed to repeat myself), given the dueling aspects of cost, durability and the demands of under-60′ casts and playing fish on fine tippets, there probably isn’t a better material for trout fly rods than fiberglass.

And speaking of gear, I test flew a new Patagonia soft shell jacket – something worth a post in the near future.

Soft shell technology is firmly rooted in other outdoor sports (mountaineering, skiing, etc), and we’re seeing it trickle into fly fishing clothing, and I’ll give you the reasons why you might (and might not) want to look at it.

See you on the (still largely empty) river, Tom Chandler.

An old Superglide transmission?
Wayne tentatively identified this as a Chevy Superglide Powerglide transmission. It’s been there forever.

fly fishing, fishing, upper sac, upper sacramento river, rainbow trout, october caddis, dry fly fishing, fiberglass fly rod

The Montana Fly Fishing Road Trip Continues: Last Casts, and a Gripping Action Sequence

July 15, 2008, by Tom Chandler 15 comments

Ok, so fly fishing the small meadow stream in my last post was stellar: the trout were bigger than expected, the surroundings prettier than anyone could want, and reclining in the warm, tall grass (â€œresting our casting armsâ€ as I recall) might have become the highlight of the trip.

Fly fishing a small Montana trout stream
Could our next fly fishing adventure possibly measure up to this one?

Later, we discovered we’d walked right by a bed of peculiar, high-altitude freshwater mussels that live upwards of 100 years, and that a small pack of wolves had taken up residence in the area.

Frankly, I wish I’d seen both (the wolves from a greater distance than the mussels), but both get filed under the heading of â€œthings I didn’t know about, but wish I had when it would have matteredâ€ (yes, I do regret too).

After we’d walked around the meadow back to our ridgeline camp site (no mosquitoes), we sat and watched the sun go down.

a good sized trout stream
The Underground goes all artsy on you.

Because [name redacted] and I aren’t exactly shy about sharing opinions, we dissected the state of fly fishing, the world, the environment and even fly rods (perhaps the most contentious subject).

The discussion was as lively as the day’s fly fishing.

Then the day ended, we went to sleep, and dawn broke, and on a whim, we headed back to the creek we fished a couple days before, reasoning the waters would have fallen, and – yes – the fishing would be even better (apparently I do greed well too).

We expected a triumphant return to the site of our earlier small stream adventure, and on one count, we were rewarded.

Sadly, that count didn’t include as many big trout.

We did catch plenty of Westslope Cutthroats, but the stream had fallen farther than expected, and while the trout weren’t really along the banks, they weren’t all that aggressive in the seams either.

A rare image of the Underground (courtesy [name redacted])

[Name redacted] suggested it had something to do with the trout repositioning themselves in the falling water, taking a day off to fight it out for the better lies, but I cared little.

The fly fishing was still damned good, and the only event marring the adventure was [name redacted]‘s plunge into the river after a rock shifted under him, banging both his knee and his reel.

As he fell, I could tell it was going to hurt a lot, but I’d also just hooked a small trout, which meant I had a difficult decision to make: do I help my friend so he lives another day (live, damnit live!), or do I land the trout?

small cutthroat trout

Given that my heart is pure – so I have the strength of ten men – I managed to do both.

The Gimp Laughs Last

Of course, the lord giveth, and the lord taketh away, and in the â€œgivethâ€ column, [name redacted] chose to sit on the bank and let his knee recover a bit, and promptly caught 12 trout from one seam (two of which went 12â€ or so) without so much as moving his ass an inch.

A Nettrout – my favorite.

If you’re like me, you can’t abide showoffs on the river (except when it’s me), so I fished my way upriver. Today’s rod of choice was an 8′ 5wt Diamondglass rod that’s very sweet to cast (though it grows a little less so when it becomes windy).

It was built for me by good friend (Rich Margiotta), a fact which adds considerably to the rod’s already-considerable charms.

I was more than nine days into the Montana Road Trip, and I think my hyper-web-accelerated internal time clock was finally adjusting to the more human pace the outdoors tends to impose on you if given half a chance.

The casts were falling pretty much where I wanted, the fish were eating the dry (not quite as often as I wanted, but that’s almost always the case), and the whole event had acquired a bit of a dreamlike quality.

fly fishing a small Montana trout stream
That’s me. That’s beautiful. (courtesy [name redacted])

It’s in those rare moments of fly fishing grace that you realize that this sport is actually pretty damned cool, and while many define the sport by what’s happening on the waters that see a couple dozen drift boats every day, that might be more a commercial perspective than a sporting one.

I sat on that for a bit, and [name redacted] walked up and asked to borrow the camera.

The Image Maven

I’d taken damn few pictures so far, and was frankly relieved when I didn’t have to worry about stocking the thing with images.

Of course, that’s how we ended up with rare photographs of me in my own fly fishing blog, including a Gripping Series of Photographs So Graphic, That Small Children and the Weak of Heart May Want to Look Away.

Well. Sorta.

[Name redacted] did a nice job of shooting me while I cast at an inside seam (see “That’s Me” photo above), but he showed his Peckinpah-esque cinematic chops when he recorded me hooking and losing the Big Cutthroat Trout of the Day:

A 14″-15″ cutthroat eats, and I set. Hey, this is eas… uh oh…

The skid mark moment when the trout heads downstream and starts kicking my ass.

It’s all knee-deep riffles below; brilliantly, I try to steer the trout into a seam…

Which doesn’t work. He gets off, while I gaze longingly (with an empty net)

OK, maybe it wasn’t exactly Drama In Real Life stuff. Maybe it wasn’t even that exciting from a fishing perspective, but I’ll bet someone could add a soundtrack (Don’t Get Fooled Again by The Who) and give it a little vibration, eh?

Beginning of the End

I’ve got one more wrap-up post planned for the Underground’s Montana Fly Fishing Road Trip, including a few odds-and-ends photos that didn’t fit anywhere else.

Though I’ve written several long posts on the trip, it’s humbling to realize that so much went unsaid and un-photographed.

Then again, we are not video recorders with legs, and if you could experience the fullness of a fly fishing trip on the Internet, then you wouldn’t need all those expensive fly rods or waders.

More to come from Montana. See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

Bonus Graphic: a “Wordle” word cloud graphic of the report.

Wordle word cloud of this post

Phillipson Fly Rods for $25? I’ll Take Two Dozen

April 12, 2008, by Tom Chandler 2 comments

Sully – Alert Underground Reader in Charge of Gear Taunting — sent along a Phillipson ad from what I’d guess was the late 60s or very early 70s (it looks like 3M might have already bought the company).

The Internet is awash in irritating boomers who say they "miss the 70s." Suddenly, I do too.

phillipsonrodkitad