by Rudy Hayden - Charlotte Manager
Spring is near and I was anxiously waiting for warmer temps and stellar fishing. I was overly confident in saying to others and myself, “I won’t fish any other flies but my own until I catch something”. I recently became hooked on fly tying after taking three really good classes with Sam and Scott at the good ole’ GOPC.
Lighter, stronger and easier to cast for anglers of all skill levels. Entirely new level of fishability!
Sage Rods are now available in ALL of our Fishing Shops!
Greenville | Chapel Hill | Raleigh | Greensboro | Wilmington | Winston-Salem | Charlotte
By Tim Glover, Wilmington Shop Manager
Winter is the perfect time to reflect on past fishing adventures, and to daydream about the nice weather arriving with spring. Reels and other equipment are cleaned and repaired. Fly boxes are filled again as the tying table looks more inviting than the cold. Well, maybe if you live somewhere else, but fortunately North Carolina offers excellent winter fly fishing opportunities for red drum and other species along the coast. If you enjoy sight-casting to fish in shallow water, than red drum are the right target, and a window of nice weather is the perfect opportunity.
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Pictures from Alex’s (Charlotte Shop) recent FF trip to the Davidson River. He was joined by GOPC customer, Brett.
Big Brown!
21″ Rainbow
Product Manager Scott Wood Came up with several items that a Fly Fisherman or Fisherwoman would love to have under the tree:
REDINGTON RedCross Oufits : MULEteam Exclusive $149 - $179
Everthing one needs to get started in Fly Fishing at a great Price!
Wapsi FLY TYING KITS
- Designed to giver the starter positive results the 1st time they tie a fly
Sage Z-Axis Rods
Lighter, stronger and easier to cast for anglers of all skill levels. Entirely new level of fishability!
Kaenon Sunglasses
Superior polarized optics featuring purpose-built lens tints. Ideal for fishing and all water sports.
by David Silverthorn (Wilmington Staff)
“An undisclosed spot in Western North Carolina.” That’s how I refer to this gorgeous, out of the way trout stream I visited recently. Oh sure, it has a name and a lot of people know about it. After all, I found out about it on the Internet! I just don’t want anyone else to hear about it. From me, anyway.
We fly-fishers are a contradictory bunch. On one hand, we want to hear all about someone else’s favorite stream, how to get to the best holes on it and which fly the big ones there are taking. A detailed map is nice, too.
On the other hand, we don’t want to give up any information about our favorite spots. Not that I haven’t given up some pretty nice spots over the years, just ask any fly fisher that comes into our store. If I know someone and trust him or her not to blab it all over tarnation, why not tell them? Maybe they’ll give me a nugget some day. I just don’t give it up to everyone and those I do tell I swear to secrecy. I never divulge a spot given to me in confidence.
Once I even blindfolded a friend as I took him to a secret bass pond.
The bottom line on this one, though, is that it’s gonna stay undisclosed. Why? Because its one-hell-of-a brook trout stream, that’s why.
It’s an understatement to say I like to fish for brookies, or specs, as some call them. When I think of brookies and the pursuit of them my eyes glass over and I start looking like the Cookie Monster thinking about an Oreo. There is nothing like holding a brookie in your hands, marveling at its perfect form and then sliding it back into the water unharmed. The experience is even better in the fall when they spawn. Their vivid colors even more intensified.
I feel responsible for this area in some way. Native brook trout streams are precious jewels that deserve our respect and care. North Carolina once almost lost them all. I sure don’t want that to happen again.
When I read about this location, I was intrigued. The place is shrouded in mystery and has a reputation for being rattlesnake-friendly. I immediately made plans to go there on my yearly winter fishing trip. Cold, yes. Snakes, no!
I went to the DeLorme Gazetteer and the NC Wildlife Commission resources to learn as much as I could about where I was going and how to get there. My wife knew where I was going and when she could expect a call from me at the end of the day. You have to be extra careful when you’re out there alone. If you get hurt, cell phones usually don’t work in the backcountry. Let people know where you’re going, what you’re doing and when you’ll check in.
It’s about a 7-hour drive from Wilmington, where I live, to this location. I camped-out the first night next to a nice river - the water’s sound carried me off to sleep. The weather was beautiful, considering it was February. The nights got down to about 25 degrees, but the days rose to a sunny 55. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
Now, one has to be flexible about this camping thing. Sometimes you want to get away and lose yourself in the mountains for 3 days with nothing but a backpack, dehydrated food and GORP. Sometimes, though, you just want to fish, sleep and eat. That’s what this trip was all about so, the next morning, I got up, broke camp and went to my favorite Huddle House for breakfast. I mean, it was 25 degrees.
French toast, grits and 3 cups of coffee later, I headed to the local fly shop. I knew how to drive to where I was going but had no idea where to go once I got there.
The fella at the shop drew a map of my valley destination and I bought a handful of flys in return. I just don’t feel right getting free fishing information from a shop owner without spending a few bucks on something while I’m there. His map looked a bit sketchy and thin on detail, but I left full of hope.
Sometimes that’s the way it is with maps. Most of the time, when using a DeLorme map, for instance, you’ll be fine. I haven’t gotten lost using one yet. However, with hand-drawn maps from friends and guys at fly shops you have to be careful. A person’s “mile” might be way different from actuality. Sometimes, too, you might not have the necessary vehicle to actually get you to where you’re trying to go. That’s happened to me in my Saturn coupe more than once. That’s when you vow to buy yourself a 4-wheel drive next time. Most of the time, though, the map-drawer’s memory isn’t quite up to remembering all the details that need to go into a map. It’s a good idea to try to “make sense” of a hand-drawn map by comparing it to some published map, if you can. Then, if you can’t make sense of it, go with hope.
When I got to the trailhead it was about 10AM. The sun was shining and the temperature was getting tolerable. I loaded my daypack with my waders, boots, gloves, rain gear and lunch and headed out. It took about 45 minutes to get into the valley and the scenery on the way down was breathtaking. Leafless trees stood starkly against snow-covered rock face hundreds of feet high and millions of years old. It was beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for a better day. Gorgeous scenery aside, though, I was there to fish and still hadn’t heard the sound of water rushing over rocks. I was beginning to have serious doubts about my fly shop map.
After another 20 minutes of trudging down the trail I stopped. Am I lost? What do I do now, keep going? Turn around? Damn map.
Wait, what’s that? I faintly hear something. Water? Yes! It’s…right next to the trail. I had been walking next to it for who-knows-how-long and hadn’t heard a thing. I poked my head through the thicket between the trail and the water and, wow, there it was! Like nothing I’ve ever seen before in North Carolina. The streambed is almost all sand. There is only an odd rock scattered here and there and virtually no sound of moving water except for an occasional babble.
It’s also small, which is one of the things about brookie streams. They’re in the high country, they require some walking to get to and they’re small and sometimes hard to fish. At this point, the stream is no wider than 10 feet across, very shallow and gin-clear. The rhododendron canopy over the water is dense. I see no visible holding area so I turn around and walk back upstream looking for better water. I hope there is some.
Again, I loose the stream. It has silently meandered from the trail. Damn map.
I walk 15 more minutes, turn left, cross a bridge, again find the stream, turn right onto another path, walk for another couple of hundred yards and “whoa”!
Now I know how Lewis & Clark felt discovering whatever it is they discovered. There, in front of me, the stream has widened to a pool about 90 feet across. At the far end a small waterfall cascades into it. There is ice and snow on most of the ground, light is shimmering, the sky is sunny and Carolina blue. Could it be a more beautiful winter day? Yes, with trout.
I ate a sandwich as I donned my gear, then, carefully, stepped into the water. The main flow of the stream was making a nice tumbling run into a shallow pool off to the right. I didn’t see any fish in the tail of the pool so I waded lowly and slowly over to the little pool. One needs to use stealth tactics at times like these.
And, there they were. A pod of little specs lined up and picking off nymphs as they washed into their feeding lanes. There were about 10 or 12 and, over the course of the next hour, I landed and safely released each one. They hit size 16 and 18 Hare’s Ear and Pheasant Tail nymphs and a small orange egg pattern. The water was so clear I could see every take. Not one of them was more than 9” long, but I didn’t care. They were brookies, the only trout native to our mountains. I also caught a few more just upstream of the waterfall, but the footing was so slippery with the ice and snow I didn’t get too far.
The walk out was tough. It was all uphill and very rocky. Funny how I hadn’t noticed that as I walked in. The temperature was getting colder as the sun went down, but I was prepared. When I got back to the trailhead I stowed my gear and headed off to find some dinner. And, yes, as soon as I had a signal on my cell phone I called my wife and let her know I was ok.
A perfect day at an undisclosed trout stream in Western North Carolina. Now, where’s the closest Huddle House?
Danny Batten (GOPC Paddlesports Specialist) brings in Breakfast
Winder River Range, Wyoming Aug. 2005
by David Silverthorn (Wilmington Staff)
“An undisclosed spot in Western North Carolina.” That’s how I refer to this gorgeous, out of the way trout stream I visited recently. Oh sure, it has a name and a lot of people know about it. After all, I found out about it on the Internet! I just don’t want anyone else to hear about it. From me, anyway.
We fly-fishers are a contradictory bunch. On one hand, we want to hear all about someone else’s favorite stream, how to get to the best holes on it and which fly the big ones there are taking. A detailed map is nice, too.
On the other hand, we don’t want to give up any information about our favorite spots. Not that I haven’t given up some pretty nice spots over the years, just ask any fly fisher that comes into our store. If I know someone and trust him or her not to blab it all over tarnation, why not tell them? Maybe they’ll give me a nugget some day. I just don’t give it up to everyone and those I do tell I swear to secrecy. I never divulge a spot given to me in confidence.
Once I even blindfolded a friend as I took him to a secret bass pond.
The bottom line on this one, though, is that it’s gonna stay undisclosed. Why? Because its one-hell-of-a brook trout stream, that’s why.
It’s an understatement to say I like to fish for brookies, or specs, as some call them. When I think of brookies and the pursuit of them my eyes glass over and I start looking like the Cookie Monster thinking about an Oreo. There is nothing like holding a brookie in your hands, marveling at its perfect form and then sliding it back into the water unharmed. The experience is even better in the fall when they spawn. Their vivid colors even more intensified.
I feel responsible for this area in some way. Native brook trout streams are precious jewels that deserve our respect and care. North Carolina once almost lost them all. I sure don’t want that to happen again.
When I read about this location, I was intrigued. The place is shrouded in mystery and has a reputation for being rattlesnake-friendly. I immediately made plans to go there on my yearly winter fishing trip. Cold, yes. Snakes, no!
I went to the DeLorme Gazetteer and the NC Wildlife Commission resources to learn as much as I could about where I was going and how to get there. My wife knew where I was going and when she could expect a call from me at the end of the day. You have to be extra careful when you’re out there alone. If you get hurt, cell phones usually don’t work in the backcountry. Let people know where you’re going, what you’re doing and when you’ll check in.
It’s about a 7-hour drive from Wilmington, where I live, to this location. I camped-out the first night next to a nice river - the water’s sound carried me off to sleep. The weather was beautiful, considering it was February. The nights got down to about 25 degrees, but the days rose to a sunny 55. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
Now, one has to be flexible about this camping thing. Sometimes you want to get away and lose yourself in the mountains for 3 days with nothing but a backpack, dehydrated food and GORP. Sometimes, though, you just want to fish, sleep and eat. That’s what this trip was all about so, the next morning, I got up, broke camp and went to my favorite Huddle House for breakfast. I mean, it was 25 degrees.
French toast, grits and 3 cups of coffee later, I headed to the local fly shop. I knew how to drive to where I was going but had no idea where to go once I got there.
The fella at the shop drew a map of my valley destination and I bought a handful of flys in return. I just don’t feel right getting free fishing information from a shop owner without spending a few bucks on something while I’m there. His map looked a bit sketchy and thin on detail, but I left full of hope.
Sometimes that’s the way it is with maps. Most of the time, when using a DeLorme map, for instance, you’ll be fine. I haven’t gotten lost using one yet. However, with hand-drawn maps from friends and guys at fly shops you have to be careful. A person’s “mile” might be way different from actuality. Sometimes, too, you might not have the necessary vehicle to actually get you to where you’re trying to go. That’s happened to me in my Saturn coupe more than once. That’s when you vow to buy yourself a 4-wheel drive next time. Most of the time, though, the map-drawer’s memory isn’t quite up to remembering all the details that need to go into a map. It’s a good idea to try to “make sense” of a hand-drawn map by comparing it to some published map, if you can. Then, if you can’t make sense of it, go with hope.
When I got to the trailhead it was about 10AM. The sun was shining and the temperature was getting tolerable. I loaded my daypack with my waders, boots, gloves, rain gear and lunch and headed out. It took about 45 minutes to get into the valley and the scenery on the way down was breathtaking. Leafless trees stood starkly against snow-covered rock face hundreds of feet high and millions of years old. It was beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for a better day. Gorgeous scenery aside, though, I was there to fish and still hadn’t heard the sound of water rushing over rocks. I was beginning to have serious doubts about my fly shop map.
After another 20 minutes of trudging down the trail I stopped. Am I lost? What do I do now, keep going? Turn around? Damn map.
Wait, what’s that? I faintly hear something. Water? Yes! It’s…right next to the trail. I had been walking next to it for who-knows-how-long and hadn’t heard a thing. I poked my head through the thicket between the trail and the water and, wow, there it was! Like nothing I’ve ever seen before in North Carolina. The streambed is almost all sand. There is only an odd rock scattered here and there and virtually no sound of moving water except for an occasional babble.
It’s also small, which is one of the things about brookie streams. They’re in the high country, they require some walking to get to and they’re small and sometimes hard to fish. At this point, the stream is no wider than 10 feet across, very shallow and gin-clear. The rhododendron canopy over the water is dense. I see no visible holding area so I turn around and walk back upstream looking for better water. I hope there is some.
Again, I loose the stream. It has silently meandered from the trail. Damn map.
I walk 15 more minutes, turn left, cross a bridge, again find the stream, turn right onto another path, walk for another couple of hundred yards and “whoa”!
Now I know how Lewis & Clark felt discovering whatever it is they discovered. There, in front of me, the stream has widened to a pool about 90 feet across. At the far end a small waterfall cascades into it. There is ice and snow on most of the ground, light is shimmering, the sky is sunny and Carolina blue. Could it be a more beautiful winter day? Yes, with trout.
I ate a sandwich as I donned my gear, then, carefully, stepped into the water. The main flow of the stream was making a nice tumbling run into a shallow pool off to the right. I didn’t see any fish in the tail of the pool so I waded lowly and slowly over to the little pool. One needs to use stealth tactics at times like these.
And, there they were. A pod of little specs lined up and picking off nymphs as they washed into their feeding lanes. There were about 10 or 12 and, over the course of the next hour, I landed and safely released each one. They hit size 16 and 18 Hare’s Ear and Pheasant Tail nymphs and a small orange egg pattern. The water was so clear I could see every take. Not one of them was more than 9” long, but I didn’t care. They were brookies, the only trout native to our mountains. I also caught a few more just upstream of the waterfall, but the footing was so slippery with the ice and snow I didn’t get too far.
The walk out was tough. It was all uphill and very rocky. Funny how I hadn’t noticed that as I walked in. The temperature was getting colder as the sun went down, but I was prepared. When I got back to the trailhead I stowed my gear and headed off to find some dinner. And, yes, as soon as I had a signal on my cell phone I called my wife and let her know I was ok.
A perfect day at an undisclosed trout stream in Western North Carolina. Now, where’s the closest Huddle House?
This falls trip to New Hampshire Salmon fishing started out as a bust, flood water all over. Brood stocked Atlantic salmon fishing was out of the question. Waters at the Merrimack , Pemi, and Winnipesaukee Rivers were well over the banks and quite frankly kind of scary just standing beside them to take a few pictures. I grew up on this river 12 miles north of here and have seen the water a lot higher but that was spring run off, never like this in the fall of the year.
I took a ride down to the Smith River in my home town of Bristol to check out Profile Falls and almost couldn’t get to the falls, the flood dam 12 miles down stream in Franklin had water held back to the base of the falls. This is a 40 foot falls in low water, now it had an extra 20 feet of water at its bottom pool. It was quite un-nerving just standing here over looking its power.
The Newfound River was rushing as were the other rivers in the state, the gates on the dam were open with water coming over the top. I did see 2 huge fish and was able to get a fly to them once with out a prayer of landing one if he did take my fly.
We didn’t seriously start fishing until Wednesday on the Merrymeeting River in the town of Alton Bay N. H. for land lock salmon. I think it was the only river open to salmon fishing that had fishable water levels. My son Ty and good friend Tom Schwendler were my companions for the day. Tom guided for me out of my old fly shop, now has a family and doesn’t guide anymore. There were quite a few anglers on the water for a week day. Ty got permission downstream on some private land for us to have a spot on the best holding spot on the river. My second cast I had a follow that Tom told me about, I didn’t see the fish behind the fly, I represented the fly and had the fish take, it was a huge rainbow, I dare say the largest I have ever had on. He showed me his colors and size and then spit the fly back at me. That was to be my only chance at the big rainbow I was looking for and I blew it by not giving a good hook set. Ty landing a decent land lock, later I got a 4 pound male, big kipe jaw on him and dark color showing he had been in the river for some time.
These are acrobatic fish, they usually come out of the water several times, here is one Ty had on in mid air. I couldn’t help but get a picture of this fish in the air because he spent more time out of the water than in. He must have jumped a few dozen times.
We had some lunch and discussed the morning and how I messed up that rainbow then headed up stream to where all the other fishermen were that day. Ty hadn’t been there 2 minutes and his fly was engulfed by a smaller size salmon about 2 pounds. Standing on a bridge with flood water on both sides made it a team effort to land this fish but we managed after Ty kind of swung the fish over a log so I could net it.
On Thursday Ty got this small male salmon. My other son Ryan joined us, it was so good to have the three of us all together on the river again.
I landed this male that gave me quite the time in the fast water.
John Lockwood, N.H. guide was there Thursday, we spent almost an hour catching up on old times talking on the foot bridge. It sure brought back some fond memories. John used to guide for me also when I owned my shop there, now owns his own shop on Pleasant Lake and doing very well. If you are heading to N. H. and looking for a fishing guide please look John up, he’s the nicest guy you ever will meet, good to see you John.
Ty landing this great male Thursday afternoon just a few yard down stream from where I landed mine.
Friday we finally started catching hen salmon fat with eggs, bright silver in color. Tom Schwendler was just leaving as we arrived, he had caught a fresh fat hen that morning also. The males are always the first in the river, finally the fat females are in.
Though not huge these are spunky strong fish that give you a great time on light gear. We saw some nice rainbow in the 6 pound range I managed to loose one on Wednesday, I dare say the largest rainbow I have ever had on. Even though the Pemi wasn’t fishable for the brood stocked Atlantic salmon we had a great week fishing for the land locks, eating New England seafood almost every meal, and catching up with old times with good friends. Salmon numbers were good and sizes were up a little from past years. NH has done a great job on its land lock salmon population by limiting smelt fishing in the lakes, the smelt are the salmons main food source and with smelt populations up, the salmon are eating well and gaining some hefty weight.
There is something very special about catching Atlantic salmon on a fly and then letting it go back to regenerate its numbers. Those that have done it know exactly what I mean, those that haven’t done it should put it on their list of things to do.
Well back home to NC now and back to reality. Dreaming of next springs salmon run again.
Terry Corneau, Greensboro Store
What you pay for when you spend more than $300.00 for a fly rod (and potentially up to more than $3,000!) is not readily apparent to everyone. Is it just “branding” or is there really a performance difference as the price increases? And, are they worth the extra dollars? Because only you understand your own priority structure, we can only tell you what you will get when you spend more for higher priced fly rods.
First, our entry level rods at $150.00 to $200.00 from Scott, St.Croix, Sage and Redington are far better rods, inflation adjusted, than entry level rods have ever been. They are made of high performance materials, are well designed, and cast far better than their predecessors. In fact, some of these really approach the performance of many upper end rods of only a generation ago. All of these have good warranties and fish well enough for you to be really effective. We offer them with no apology, and in fact anticipate very high satisfaction from you.
The more expensive rods, like all more expensive performance products, give the user increases in all the characteristics that enhance the use of the rod; light weight, durability, balance, smoothness of casting stroke, uniformity of flex to enhance accuracy, vibration dampening for distance and accuracy, and designs that only very tight, quality manufacturing control can fully utilize. And, like most performance items, the last scintilla of perfection costs much more than the 85th percentile of performance perfection. Think high performance sports cars, sound systems and musical instruments for similarities.
We won’t look down our noses if you stick with lower priced rods, or poo-poo the competition. If you don’t know much, we’ll be happy to help you learn. If you are an expert, we will both probably learn something. We love to fish, love to experiment with performance enhancing gear, and love to mix it up with those of you who share our passions. One thing we would like to share with all of you, is a bit of insight into high end fly rods.
One example of the care that goes into an expensive rod is the wrapping of the power material around the mandrel during manufacture of a typical, hollow built fly rod. First, the resin used to hold the whole thing together through millions of casts and thousands of fish is highly UV resistant, extremely strong, and is present in only the amount needed to hold the fibers of glass or graphite together. This insures that the rod weighs as little as possible, and the designed action is not dampened by extra, non-power producing weight. Second, the pre-impregnated ribbons of longitudinal power fibers need to be carefully cut so that there is the exact same amount of power fibers all 360 degrees around the shaft. If there is overlap or under lap, the rod will not cast straight. Nor will it cast straight if the seam spirals around the shaft. “Rolling” the blank is an experts job. Oven time and temperature to catalyze and then cure the resin in the blank needs to be precise or the result is a weak rod. Finally, the sanding of the rough areas left by removal of the shrink wrap that held the ribbon of power fibers in place needs to be done so as not to leave excess resin in various places on the blank yet not cut into the power fibers as either would result in an inaccurate rod. Then the rod needs to be placed on a deflection grid with various loads to insure that the rod flexes as designed; those that don’t pass are destroyed.
Lots of these steps could be slighted in the interest of expense and you could only tell the difference by casting and fishing that rod beside one where performance ruled during manufacture. The better rods become a part of you as you fish; think the fly into a seam in the current 30’feet away, mend the line up that pesky fast water half way to the fly, set the hook on a subtle take and protect the tippet during the fight. Great rods allow you to get beyond the mechanics and into the fishing! And they last a lifetime as every high quality rod is trimmed out with the very best guides, thread, high grade cork, and trouble free reel seats.
Stop by the store, and try one of these premium rods out in the parking lot. Cast close, medium and to your limit. Aim at specks in the pavement, cast under loading docks, and around the ends of the dumpster. Roll cast, tighten and widen the loop, use side arm, overhead, steeple and curve casts. Play with how little energy it takes to cast, and imagine what such a tool will do for your day fishing. The parking lot is fun for both you and us, but we promise, the best comes on the water when you actually fish these rods.
Tom Valone, Founder
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