Posts tagged: orvis superfine touch fly rod

Underground Review: The Orvis Superfine Touch 8′ 4wt Small Stream Fly Rod

October 24, 2011, by Tom Chandler 69 comments

Can A Modern, High-Tech Fly Rod Really Turn The Head Of A Cranky, Low Modulus Small Stream Fly Fisherman?

I’ll be honest; I was prepared to *not* like the Orvis Superfine Touch fly rod.

We all have our hangups, and mine involves marrying the latest high-modulus technology to supposedly smooth, bendy small-stream fly rods, the idea being the two rarely play nicely together.

A lot of today’s fly rod marketing involves words like “power” and “performance,” and neither is much in demand on a stream you can jump across.

Small stream wildflowers are a lot prettier than the Superfine Touch, but they don't fish as well...

Still, because I’m a benevolent rod snob, I agreed to test the Superfine Touch, especially once Orvis’ Tom Rosenbauer said many modern fly rods are designed to load well at 30′-40′ ranges (which neatly explains all the overlined rods we see on the river), while these rods were designed to load at normal small stream ranges (15′-30′).

When I had to choose the rod (disclosure: I did an ad trade-out), I tumbled for the 8′ 4wt instead of one of the more exotic lengths or weights, and for good reason.

The 8′ 4wt is the classic small stream fly rod.

Ian Rutter fishes his 8′ 4wt Scott G2 all over the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, John Gierach’s fave small stream rod is his 7’9″ 4wt Walter Babb bamboo, and the 8′ 4wt Winston TMF (Tom Morgan Favorite) is still around after a bazillion years.

In fact, when Chris Raine and I sat down and invested an hour discussing the ultimate small stream bamboo fly rod, we decided it looked like a 7’9″-8′ hollowbuilt, light-actioned 4wt with a tip light enough to curl a leader and a couple feet of line under that overhanging brush.

When I fish small streams, I vacillate between an 8′ 5wt Phillipson and an 8.5′ 4wt Diamondglass, so you can see how the 8′ 4wt was right in my wheelhouse.

While I was still in the shopping phase (I’m a slow buyer), the Superfine Touch in the 8.5′ 3wt or 8′ 2wt formats represented real temptations, but I’m a gruff, slightly crazy, “hey you kids get offa my lawn” kind of guy, and to me, that says 4wt.

What Happened?

Right out of the tube, the rod was something of a revelation — it felt like the love child of a toothpick and my bendy, you’ll pry-it-from-my-cold-dead-hands 8.5′ 4wt Diamondglass fly rod.

(Side note: I’m hearing ugly rumors that the “new” Diamondglass tapers are not the same as — nor the equal of — the old ones. More as we hear it.)

The 8′ 4wt Superfine Touch feels extremely light in the hand, and in fact, it largely disappears over the course of a day.

Because it has so little mass, you don’t feel the rod loading when you’re only casting a leader (that’s because it’s not), but after just a couple feet of fly line escapes the tip guide, the feel in your hand builds rapidly.

By contrast, my 8′ 5wt Phillipson bamboo rod will “load” carrying just a leader; the mass of the rod itself is sufficient to bend it.

Still, the Phillipson’s tip is too heavy for most small stream work (it was designed to fish at longer distances), so while I love my 8′ Phillipson, I was forced to admit the Orvis Superfine’s light tip cast more accurately at small stream ranges.

In this instance it seems the rodmaker’s hype is manifestly true; the Superfine Touch fishes beautifully at knife-fighting ranges.

The Orvis Superfine Touch in its natural habitat

The tip is light enough to roll just a little bit of line under overhanging brush, and the taper is slow enough to deliver the fly line with a great deal of delicacy.

This is not an all-around rod you’d want to use on big, windy rivers, but it’s plenty capable of airing out a little line.

Chris Raine and I cast it for distance in his rod shop’s high-performance casting pond (OK, it’s a parking lot), where it hit 40′ pretty cleanly.

With a little hauling, we were able to goose it out to 60′, though it’s clearly not made for those distances.

An added bonus; the 4-pc design makes it very easy to cram it into a daypack or slither through brush, and after falling on it twice, I’d have to say Orvis made it tough enough (they claim their “epoxy–based resin system with plasticizers” makes for a tougher rod).

One bit I didn’t fall in love with were the rapper-bling gold-plated guides and reel seat (the lightweight reel seat features an excellent design, but the gold color practically demands a pair of fuzzy dice).

Apart from the bling, the rod’s cosmetics are understated; the blank is unsanded and the wraps are a nice, conservative orange-red color (to this color-blind writer). It comes in a carbon fiber tube that’s light enough that you won’t necessarily leave it at home when you hike into a lake — a nice touch when you’re terminally clumsy but too lazy to carry a lot of extra weight on the pack.

I Come Clean

I would have loved to test the Superfine Touch against the equivalent rods from other manufacturers, but then, you wouldn’t be reading this for another year.

I will say this; at $475, the Superfine Touch is at least a couple hundred dollars less than the Scott G2 and Sage ZXL, and based on the G2 rods I have cast (the 8’8″ 5wt), it’s hard to see what might account for that difference, especially at the kind of distances I was fishing.

The aluminum (I think) reel seat is secure, lightweight, and sadly, gold.

In fact, I ended up fishing this rod a lot more than I had to; it quickly became my go-to rod for small streams, though I wasn’t necessarily admitting that to myself.

Finally, a friend wrote and said he’d been reading between the lines in my posts; did I like the Superfine Touch as much as I hinted?

The answer is yes.

Life, apparently, teaches us many lessons.

Simply put, I like this rod enough that if it was my only small stream fly rod, I wouldn’t feel deprived. It simply fishes well at what I’ll term “normal” trout distances, and the net affect is that the rod largely disappeares from the scene, leaving just you, the trout, and the (hopefully) breathtaking scenery.

That’s no small praise coming from someone who can typically take or leave (usually leave) rods built over the last two decades, and while I’m holding onto my 8′ Phillipson and 8.5 4wt Diamondglass, I’m forced to admit they both fish better when you can air out a little more line.

The Superfine Touch is a terrific rod, and at a couple hundred less than its competitors, it’s apparently a terrific deal too.

See you fishing at 40′ or less, Tom Chandler.

A Visit to Stream XXX (or, Small Stream Porn)

July 13, 2011, by Tom Chandler 18 comments

Our winter blended seamlessly into spring, which is to say they both kinda sucked for a particular fly fisherman jonesing for a small stream fix.

That ended last weekend, when Wayne Eng and I hit a piece of little-fished small stream. The brown trout weren’t anywhere near as abundant as the mosquitoes (nor as aggressive), but they would eat a dry fly in a way that was recognizably my kind of fly fishing, and suddenly, winter and our long, cold, high-water spring simply fell away.

And did so in what amounts to a rampantly beautiful… spot.

How's that for a great fishing spot?

Regulars know I refer to my local small streams with highly unoriginal aliases like “Stream X” and “Stream Y.”

In a fit of creativity, I’m naming this stretch Stream XXX, because while the brown trout aren’t fish-porn worthy, I’d suggest the location itself qualifies as Small Stream Porn.

Of the Triple-X variety. I mean, look at it:

Wayne Eng, small stream style

No, don't even ask me (or him) where it is...

If you’re a fly fisherman, that’s major wood action (I’m referring of course to all the downed timber, which provides exceptional trout habitat).

Stream XXX was running high — higher than I’d ever seen — but it was still wholly fishable. High water tends to discourage trout from taking dries (they’ve got a lot more water to move through), but thankfully, enough trout made the trip to keep it interesting.

I started the day throwing the vaunted new Mini-Hopper, which accounted for four trout (and several other grabs).

Then I found this #10-sized penny from heaven on bankside brush:

That's #10 Bug Porn

That prompted a switch to a #10 March Brown (Catskill style), which went to a watery grave a few fish later, precipitating a move to an Old Joe Kimsey Favorite — the orange Skinny Humpy.

The beauty of a Humpy is that each fish frays it towards a state of grace; the more chewed it gets, the better it seems to catch trout (short of total dissolution).

The Humpy achieves a state of grace...

That, my friends, worked like stink, proving that Joe Kimsey probably still knows more than we do, and we buried him a while ago.

It’s gratifying to stumble on the fly of the day, but more importantly, I was fishing and casting and hooking trout instead of lobbing who knows what who knows where, and the sensation was, well… triple-X pleasurable.

The Clothing Angle

Firmly in the “unpleasant” column we find the mosquitoes, who attacked in force and got worse as the day progressed. They’re irritating to the point of distraction, and at one point, I found myself trying to re-tie my leader while stumbling around in circles; stopping and sitting on a log was an invitation to insanity.

Some deal with mosquitoes via chemical weapons, though I’ve largely given up on Deet. The stuff melts fly lines and bamboo rod varnish, and works (I believe) by altering your DNA to the point that mosquitoes no longer recognize you as a mammal.

Is that really something I want covering my body?

Better, I think, is to simply cover up:

The mostquito-proof fly fisherman

This looks odd, but it’s a damn bit better than constantly swatting your eyeglasses off your face.

Note the CalTrout-styled buff, which — when combined with a hat — leaves very little skin exposed, yet doesn’t run nearly as hot as you’d think.

And yes, that’s a long-sleeve, one-piece Patagonia Sun Hoody — a lightweight, cover-everything piece of clothing — the kind of which is currently found on a lot of flats fishermen, who are more concerned with sun exposure than bugs.

I’m trying it here in the decidedly flats-free Northern California mountains, and so far (that’s two trips), I like the hoody better than your typical long-sleeve fly fishing shirt, which isn’t nearly as snag-free.

Also in the ensemble (but not the pictures) were a pair of Glacier Glove sun gloves, which protected the back of my hands from mosquitoes and the sun, and if you’d ever seen them, you’d know that’s a good thing.

There is plenty more testing to come, but as someone who hates both bug repellent and sunscreen (and who has some serious skin issues), I may just be looking at my mosquito-driven future — a lightweight fishing rig that leaves only my eyes and fingers exposed.

The problem is that you look a little like you’re from outer space (or France), and I’m going to immediately write a letter to Patagonia asking for a camo version of the shirt, figuring that buys you more acceptance in rural areas than silver.

The Footwear Angle

After deciding they were failures on freestone streams, I wore the Patagonia Rock Grip wading boots, and they worked beautifully, but then, of course they would.

This stream was all mud, gravel, grass and trees — barely a slippery freestone-style rock in sight.

A long, downstream drift sometimes works...

They’re wonderful wading boots when they’re not filling the same niche as ice skates, but most rivers come equipped with rocks, and Tommy needs a pair of studded rubber soles for the tough stuff.

The search continues, though I might just opt for the studded Orvis boots in the right size. Sometimes searching’s overrated.

The Fly Rod Angle

This visit concluded my test of the Orvis Superfine Touch 8′ 4wt, a rod that has performed admirably, and I stand by my earlier thinking that it’s a modern interpretation of the classic 8′ 4wt small stream rod.

I’ll write a longer review soon, but will say it’s a nice, modern rod — one that is (somewhat atypically) designed to fish at reasonable small-stream ranges, and has all the heft of a toothpick in your hand.

Rods so light you almost don’t notice them are a manifestly marketable these days, though personally I’d probably still opt for my 8′ 5wt Phillipson — which has enough mass that you can feel it loading even when you’re only casting a leader.

I also recognize the personal nature of that reality, and we’ll explore that more in my review of the rod.

See you on a small stream, Tom Chandler.

Does he feel silly, or what?

Small, but pretty...

On Hail Marys, Small Streams, Brown Trout and Fly Rods…

May 8, 2011, by Tom Chandler 13 comments

Color me shocked.

The runoff hasn’t really begun in earnest (the Upper Sac will hit five digit flows when it does), but last week’s warm days saw the Upper Sac edging up past 3000 cfs, and a quick visit to my local small stream candidate confirmed it was roaring.

For those of us looking for a small stream experience, that left Stream Z; a beautiful little spring/freestone/meadow stream (“It’s, three, three streams in one”) that fishes better during the early season.

Still, I expected we’d arrive to find it over its banks, and even warned Wayne — who foolishly volunteered to make the 45 minute drive despite the potential for an immediate return trip, wading boots unwetted.

Fly fishermen subsist largely on hope, and after a long winter spent locked in the grip of sickness or work or whatever – and facing months of unfishably high streams due to runoff — the hope for a dry-fly caught small stream trout was too much to resist.

Gentlemen, unlimber the Hail Mary.

They throw... they score!

I’m tempted to note the bite was pretty tough; I held my breath during a lot of “perfect” drifts down the perfect current tongue, and usually had nothing to show for it.

My six fish came from surprisingly slow water; the first brown trout ate my bug on my second cast, and sucked it down so daintily I almost didn’t set the hook (hope, apparently precedes belief).

Still, these were the same beautiful brown trout I remembered; some were a flashy metallic gold, others were that buttery yellow color that makes brown trout seem manmade.

Most were less than ten inches, though I’d suggest two made the double-digit club, and in truth, only a real asshole looks down on a small trout when — just an hour before — he was begging for any trout.

The Gear Stuff

Wayne fished a 9′ 4wt I’d suggest was the wrong rod for heavily timbered, brushy waters, and before we found ourselves on an open meadow stretch where the extra reach was handy, he tended to agree.

And this was one of the more "open" areas...

I tried out an 8′ 4wt Orvis Superfine Touch — one of a relatively new line of Orvis rods designed to fish at what I’d suggest were “sensible” trout ranges, but the industry would probably insist was “close-in” fishing.

I’d fished this same fly rod a week ago on opening day, but in the strong wind and on the much-bigger Upper Sacramento, it didn’t make much of an impression. I was under-gunned.

Today was better. Much better, even despite a sometimes stiff wind (there’s a lesson here for those of us who use tools for things other than intended).

I need to fish it a couple more times before I review it, and I’m far from ready to pronounce it “perfect” — but Wayne and I both agree it’s clearly an interesting modern interpretation of the good old all-around Small Stream Fly Rod.

Orvis: The Flower Power company

Originally, I planned to hold a Fly Rod Death Match between it and the original (old school) Scott G-series 8′ 4wt you’ll have to pry from Ian Rutter’s cold dead hands.

Sadly, with that trip postponed, the more bloodthirsty among the Underground’s fly rod enthusiasts will have to wait.

See you (feeling better after my Quality Small Stream Experience) during the week, Tom Chandler.