FlyTalk

Well, we might as well open this Pandora’s Box early in the life of FFLOGGER. Catch-and-release fishing. Yes, I am a catch-and-release flyfisher. Except in rare occasions when I want to eat the fish I just caught.

For the record, I haven’t killed a trout in three years. But that’s more selfish than noble. Why, you ask? Because I enjoy catching trout more than I enjoy eating trout. When I let them go, I think, “See you later, you poor thing, I’ll be back to work you over again someday.” So I'm a mugger rather than a killer.

Is catch-and-release about preserving a resource? Yes. Do old photos of 125-pound tarpon (not good eating by most standards) strung on a line churn my stomach? Absolutely. Does it upset me when people keep coolers of fish that will only end up freezer-burned and eventually discarded? Of course. Do I bend down my barbs, and think catch-and-release flyfishing is worthwhile and important? You bet.

By Kirk Deeter

I received a ton of (mostly positive) feedback on the “Going Deep in the Name of Trout Research” piece we ran in Field & Stream. The one point that earned the most criticism, however, was where I talked about missing strikes, and how, if you get in the habit of lifting or “mini-setting” your fly at the end of every cast, you’ll hook up more often.

Some say that’s snagging. But I wonder, is it possible to snag a trout in the mouth? More to the point, isn’t every fly-caught fish, technically-speaking, snagged in the mouth?

After all, from the bottom of the river, I watched trout routinely inhale and spit out all sorts of things – leaves, twigs, weeds, and yes, flies. It seemed to me that trout were able to taste the difference between real food and everything else, and it only took a moment or two for them to reject the bad stuff, including flies.