Fishing the South River

Yesterday I got tired of reviewing respiratory systems so I decided to do what I always do, go flyfishing.

I headed up to the South River, which is conveniently located in the heart of Waynesboro, VA which is just on the other side of Afton Mountain from Charlottesville.  Overall, it's only about a 30 minute drive from C'ville, making it one of the closest places to put a line in.  (Check out our Google map for the location)

The snowy view from my car just off of 64 up on Afton Mountain

The South River has its ups and downs.  The positives: it's easy to get to, they've done a great job making the river perfect for holding trout (good holes, and rock cover on the bottom), and with the warm run off from the factory upstream, the river is fishable even in the winter.  The negatives: since it is so easily accessible, it tends to get a ton of fishing pressure and there is a significant population of chubs in the river as well.  

A great little hole that was designed to hold trout

A view of the river and the 250 bridge from the riverside park

So I'm standing in knee-deep water as a thin layer of fog settles over the river and I stumble upon a dozen or so fish taking subsurface insects.  I start getting excited and nervous due to the sheer quantity of action occurring right in front of me.  I start by throwing size 18 comparaduns.  No luck.  Then I get them to ride just below the surface of the water, still no luck.  There are bites happening all around my fly but nothing hits.  I change to a Griffith's Gnat.  Nothing.  I switch to a hare's ear nymph and I dead drift it hoping for a bite as I start to take the nymph out of the water (this tends to be a good time for bites as it mimics the actual ascent the pupae as they head towards adulthood.)  Still nothing.  Getting frustrated, I put on a large silver-gold kreelex and start pounding the area.  Within 2 minutes, bam, a hit and I'm excited.  But the excitation ended quickly when I realized what I pulled in was a large chub.  I then realized I had been throwing flies at a school of chubs for the past 45 minutes.  

Still, a fish is a fish no matter how ugly it is.  At least I didn't get blanked.  

I decide then that I should try out my luck in the stocked region of the river located at Ridgeview Park.  Apparently I was not the only person who had heard they stocked it just the day before.  Despite the cold and the wet snow/rain mix, there were about ten Powerbaiters and worm plunkers out there waiting for the fish to bite. 

A Side Note: Back when I first started flyfishing, if there were spincasters or baiters around, I would shy away and find more private water.  This was because not only do flyfishermen look pretty ridiculous with our waders, vests with pockets full of flies, and long rods with green line, but also because I was worried they would assume I thought I was far superior to them in the realm of fishing.  It's a lot harder to throw a line out when you think you're getting loathful glances from every which way.  But after I had quite the successful day out on Beaver Creek Reservior last spring fishing for crappie, I've gotten over my fear of fishing side by side with reel and worm bunch.  (That's a story in itself, which I'll have to write a post about soon)  Nowadays, I kind of enjoy the occasional loathful glance I get.  Especially when I catch more fish than they do...

As far as I could tell, no one had any luck pulling any fish from the South River for the time I was there.  Except me...  Granted it was another chub.  But it's one more fish than anyone else caught out there.  It's always a great feeling to pull in a fish on a flyrod in front of guys sitting on upside-down buckets which they were hoping to have full of trout already.  There's a quick story here, which I thought was quite entertaining:

So I'm the only person fishing the far side of the river but I'm still within earshot of the other side and I hear a young kid's conversation with his dad.  It went something like this ... (I wasn't paying too much attention so this is by no means accurate)

Young powerbaiter: "Hey dad, what's that guy doing over thar?  an' why's he moving his rod back and forth like that?"

Old powerbaiter: "He's flyfishin'.  He has to move it like that to get his bait in the water."

Y: "Why don't he just throw'n?"

O: "Because... it's flyfishin" (I'm assuming he wasn't too sure why either)

Y: "Well he looks stupid.  I wonder if he kin git a fish thataway."

I eventually hooked up on that huge chub with another trusty kreelex.  The powerbaiters all then start throwing at the submerged tree I had just pulled the fish in from.  (Kind of reminded me of the part of this classic cartoon This is Fly posted about a while back, time 3:15 especially)

Even though it was just another chub, at least I was able to show some young fisherman that it is possible to catch a fish on a flyrod.  He later asked, "Hey what kinda worm you got on there?"  The answer I then gave him either thoroughly confused him or caused him to immediately lose interest because as I started explaining what a kreelex was and why I fished with it he left me midsentence to go put another worm on his hook.  At least he has a pretty good first impression of flyfishermen.  I hope.

All in all, it was a good day of fishing despite the cold and the leaky waders (which I have officially retired seeing as how nothing, not even duct tape, could fix them).  I got some Simms Freestone Stockingfoots at Albemarle Angler for 35% off.  Hopefully these will last longer than the last ones did.  

The retired Hodgeman's with their ineffective duct tape repairs

Let's hope all this rain we're getting will help the water levels here in central Virginia.  Here's to hoping the fishing will be perfect in two weeks...

Tight lines.