I think it was called Jurassic Park back then.
I think it was called Jurassic Park back then.
My first time was this past August. I had fly fished on local lakes, but never on moving water for trout.
The first day was raining and the water was a little high. I went to Metcalf Bottoms for a few hours. I didn't really know what I was doing, I had read a good amount, but didn't have the hands-on experience. I still managed to catch a 3" brown, my first trout.
The next day I fished the Little River from the turn to go to Elkmont up to the big open pool at the bend just a bit below the campground. Caught another 3" brown. Then, up at the pool I caught three more browns, one being about 11", which I was very pleased with. All on a size 14 elk hair caddis. The largest brown was by far the best. I made a near perfect cast into a hole in the rock wall at the bend. About a second later the fish took the caddis and I managed a perfect hook set. I've been addicted since.
All--I'm not sure I can top Flyman, although methinks some high top waders might be in order, but the first time was so long ago I can't remember. I would attribute it to senility, but I've been this way since puberty (I think it was Ed Zern who said that).
More seriously, I first fished in the Park with a fly rod in 1948 when I was six years old. I didn't catch a trout on a fly until I was nine (1951) although I had caught several in state waters using bait by that time.
There hasn't been a season since when I haven't fish numerous times in the Park, and the thrill, the unending joy, and the ongoing education continue as strong and rewarding as ever. Jim Casada
god created heaven and earth, and on the seventh day he rested.....i fished
I started with nothing, and I have most of it left.
let's see...when I was a little boy (preteen) I went on vacation in TN. I remember that I was using my trusty spinning reel and beetlspin and a guy up the river was using a fly rod. I still remember seeing him roll cast (only now I know it's called a roll cast). I caught a tiny smallmouth and a rock bass. I guess I caught more than that, because he went back to his vehicle for his spinning gear!
But recently, '05 spring break, I had a full week to go get 'em. I fished all day, every day and NO fish. The last day I finally got a normal sized smokie bow at Metcalf in the last minutes of daylight. The next year I hired a guide!
I'm really like Jim on this, I can't remember exactly when the first time was. I grew up fishing the park with my grandfather, father, and uncles. My best guess would be that it was in the early 60's and it would have been somewhere in Cataloochee valley? I remember I had a fly rod with an reel spooled with mono instead of a fly line. We always fished wet flies or nymphs and often tipped them with stick bait or any other natural bait we could find. We kept our catch, and sometimes they were numerous. They were fried fresh that day, the freezing of a trout for consumption later was unheard of. Potatoes and onions were always my favorite side dish.
"Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it."
First time was about 7yr ago. Didn't catch one for a year, I am kind of hard headed and wanted to learn on my own, bad idea, I would have saved a lot of heart aches if I took a class.
I had a cheap Wal-mart special fly rod and reel and the flies that come in a package. I was fishing on little river and was only fishing the head of the runs. Lord knows how many fish I spooked! Well I went to dig out a new fly while I still had my fly in the water. once it reach the tail out a nice little rainbow hit it. My first fish was an accident! As I was headed out this fellow with at the time I thought an old wooden fly rod stopped me and took my fly rod out of my hand. It kind of freaked me out. Then this gentleman told me to out on a new leaded and dug out a couple Elk Hair Caddis and told me use those instead of the cheap flies I had. One of the other gentlemen pulled me aside as they left and told me to listen good because this man was probably fly fisherman in the smokies. I wish I would have gotten his name! Even though I am way away from being a great or even fly fisherman I always try to pay it froward by helping anyone new that will listen to a bum like me.
This is a little out of context....what can I say, I was born in Northern California.
My first time fishing on my own (without the assistance of my dad casting) was when I was 5 years old. We had stopped to fish this small tributary of a fork of the Walker River. The trib was tiny, and after a few minutes my dad came up and asked me if I wanted to move. I told him to leave me alone. He backed off and hid behind some brush, and I ended up catching a 7 or 8 inch wild trout a few minutes later. I was hooked.
It took a few more years before I got my first tast of fly fishing. It was on a trip from CA to Idaho to visit my grandfather. My dad had an old bamboo rod that he had for a while, and I talked him into letting me use it. We had stopped at a spot in Nevada to overnight on our way. There was a small stream just outside the campground. I got up before anyone, because I new that we would be leaving first thing. I had on an adams fly. I was just starting to pull my fly line off of the water on my first cast when a 7 inch brown (wasn't sure it was a brown until later) took my fly. Needless to say the fish sailed past my head and landed in the creek behind me and promptly came off. This happened to me about 5 or 6 times before I landed my first one. They were all small browns, and I caught about 5 or 6 after I stopped flinging them past my head and back in the creek.
This summer will mark the 50th anniversary of my start of fishing for trout in the Park...I was 13 and on a picnic with my mom and grandparents up Greenbrier. After lunch my grandfather and cousin began rigging up their flyrods and I begged to go along...I wasn't even aware what a flyrod was and was given a spinning rod with a ginger quill just to placate me. Off I went not knowing why I couldn't cast my fly like my cousin but I persisted flicking that **** fly until I up a shady side slip, managed to flick that quill just above a small plunge pool and snached up a 7" bow that was the only keeper anyone caught that day....got my first flyrod later that year and have been chasing the wiley trout ever since....later on discovered I was on Porter's Creek and still have a black and white photo of that first mountain trout. An interesting addition to all of this is that my son who is now a 4th generation trout fisherman in the Park is named Porter.