Chapter 2: Gearing Up for Central Texas Waters
Stomp a creek or wade a river around Austin and you’ll be hard put to spot an angler who looks like he or she just stepped out of a fly fishing catalogue. Unless you happen to run into my buddy Jess (see cover). In this region, “business casual” means a shirt with a collar and “formal wear” means you probably have socks on. We’re still a little redneck and a whole lot laid-back here.
If the latest gee-whiz waders and felt-soled boots and stream temperature gauges turn you on, gear up and have at it. No one is going to laugh you off the water. But for about nine months out of the year, you’ll fish just fine in board shorts and strappy sandals (or old sneakers).
“There he stands, draped in more equipment than a telephone lineman, trying to outwit an organism with a brain no bigger than a breadcrumb, and getting licked in the process.”
Opinions differ as to the optimal fly rod weight for our waters. Lots of locals opt for a middle range of 4- to 6-weight rods to cover all the bases. Anglers targeting big carp or big bass exclusively might want to go even heavier, up to 8-weight, but I think that’s overkill. In my opinion, a 9-foot, 6-weight rod is as big as you need to go for Central Texas waters.
I like so-called ultralight rods—fishing relatively short 1- to 3-weight rods most of the time. I have three reasons. First, the vast majority of our fish are sunfish or bass under 4 pounds, and those fish are a lot more fun on an ultralight rod. Second, many of my favorite fishing spots are small waters, sometimes with significant vegetation along the banks or overhead, and a short, light rod is easier to manage in tight quarters. Third, as I slide into middle age, I’d much rather swing a light rod than a heavy one all day.
There is an argument that ultralight fly rods kill fish. I disagree. I spend no more time playing a fish on a 3-weight than on a 6-weight, and there is ample evidence that lighter gear can shorten the fight as slower, lighter rods protect the tippet and the angler can play the fish more confidently.
If I had to recommend one outfit, it would be a 7- or 7.5-foot, medium or medium-fast 3-weight lined with a weight-forward floating line on a click-and-pawl reel with a palmable rim. This is the sweet spot for me—a rod with enough backbone to handle fish up to 5 or 6 pounds, light enough to swing all day, short enough to negotiate a brushy small stream, and tons of fun for the 6- to 14-inch fish that are most prevalent on any stream.
Here are the exceptions: you’ll want a longer (8- to 9-foot) rod, probably a 5- or 6-weight, for the Canyon Lake tailwater trout fishery, where you may do a lot of mending between fighting big fish in current. You’ll want at least that, and more likely a 7- or 8-weight rod for the stripers in the same water. A 6-weight is also a good choice if you are targeting large carp, and for throwing a sink-tip line and big streamers on the Colorado River in the winter, or size 2/0 deer hair bugs in the summer.
If you are picking up your very first rod, visit a fly shop and have the employees there walk you through the options. Line weight and rod length are the variables we talk about most often, but material (fiberglass versus graphite, or carbon) is something else to think about. Lawn cast a couple to get a feel for what works best for you. We have several terrific local fly shops in Central Texas (see the Appendices for listings), and their employees will encourage you to handle and cast various rods and will give you honest, expert advice on how best to get started.
Cost has long been a barrier to everyday folks who would otherwise give fly fishing a try, and it shouldn’t be. There’s no such thing as the “perfect” fly rod, and you’ll lose a lot of valuable experience and even more precious enjoyment if you wait to afford the high-price models. Many really, really good rods are available at lower price points these days. Some that get labeled as “introductory” or “budget” rods are so capable you may never give them up completely as you grow in the sport.
ECHO, Redington, and Texas-based Temple Fork Outfitters (TFO) all manufacture high-quality graphite and fiberglass fly rods that are priced to be affordable. These manufacturers also offer generous, no-fault warranties: break a section, and you can usually get it replaced for $35 or less. Big-box retailer Cabela’s offers a terrific deal on a slow, full-flexing fiberglass fly rod, the CGR (“Classic Glass Rod”); its price has dropped by nearly 50 percent in recent years to around $70, and it is often on sale for less.
Bottom line: you can cobble together a very capable and respectable rod-and-reel combination for less than $250; in fact, if you shop carefully, you can probably get that price tag down to the $150 range.
Once you have gotten your feet wet and figured out a few things—what waters you love best, the species you want to pursue, and what casting style works for you—that’s the time to narrow down the choices and add a pricier rod to the quiver if you are so inclined. You can also start branching out, adding appropriate rods for other waters or species.
Scott, Sage, Orvis, G. Loomis, R.L. Winston, Thomas & Thomas, and others make beautiful, very capable rods that are a joy to fish and to own. I’m partial to small-batch, handcrafted fiberglass rods from C. Barclay Fly Rod Co. in North Carolina. They suit my fishing style and waters and make me happy just looking at them. Kabuto Rods, Graywolf Fly Rods, Steffen Brothers Fly Rods, Livingston Rod Co., Leiderman Rods, and CF Burkheimer Fly Rod Company also craft beautiful custom or semi-custom rods. When you’re ready to shell out more money for an heirloom-quality fly rod, consider supporting one of these small businesses and the innovative craftsmen behind them.
You’ll probably find that fly rods tend to reproduce when you are not paying attention—or, more accurately, when your significant other is looking the other way. This is a good thing; just roll with it.
Local fly shops stock a wide variety of rods and other equipment. The pros there can help you narrow it all down to something that fits your intended fishing and budget.
Note that, as you add rods for different species or scenarios, it’s a good idea to do so in two-weight increments. There’s not a whole lot of difference between a fast carbon 6-weight and a fast carbon 5-weight, but you’ll notice when you step down to a 4-weight or switch from graphite to glass. Whether you start even (2, 4, 6, 8, and so on) or odd (1, 3, 5, 7 …) is largely a matter of personal preference.
Reels reproduce at a slower rate, mostly because one reel can serve several rods. Most reels can accommodate up to three line weights and extra spools are available for, usually, about half the price of the entire reel.
There is a lot of good gear available these days for less than stratospheric prices. Neither of these outfits cost more than $150 total.
For most of our species, including bass, reels mostly serve as line holders. A simple click-and-pawl reel with an exposed rim (to make it easier to “palm” the spool, the traditional method of adding drag pressure) will suffice for just about any freshwater species other than carp or striped bass; the Orvis Battenkill series and the Redington ZERO come to mind. For carp and stripers, a good disc drag is added insurance; options are nearly endless.
A trio of anglers gear up for a misty morning on the Lampasas.
Folks choosing to fish with ultralight rods will be limited almost by default to floating lines, either weight-forward tapers (most commonly) or double tapers. Floating lines are also appropriate for heavier rods on all of our shallow streams. Add split shot, a tungsten twist, or a heavier fly if you need to dredge the deeps. On the winter Colorado River and in the San Marcos and Guadalupe Rivers, a sink-tip or intermediate sinking line may be useful in some scenarios.
Don’t be afraid to experiment with line weights; you can often go one weight up or (less frequently) down from the recommended weight printed on the rod. The rated weights of some rods and lines long ago departed from the American Fly Fishing Trade Association (AFFTA) standards, making matching a line to a rod something of a guessing game. The pros at your local fly shop can tell you what lines work well with which rods.
Because I fish mostly shorter rods, I opt for either 6-foot or 7.5-foot leaders. Fluorocarbon sometimes makes all the difference in some of our ultra-clear waters, and barbless hooks size 6 to 14 will cover most any situation—unless you are stalking big bass. In that case, tie on a deer hair popper, slider, or a large baitfish pattern up to 2/0; you’ll want that 6-weight to throw the bigger bugs.
Most of our warmwater species are highly opportunistic feeders and eat a varied diet. Most days, your success won’t depend on matching your fly to the insect hatch (and we do have hatches, notably of hexagenias, blue-winged olives [BWOs], tricos, slate drakes, and caddis, among others, and sunfish and Guadalupe bass do rise to them—as do trout on the Guadalupe River). For more on flies, see the chapter A Central Texas Fly Box.
Edgar Diaz, the author, and Davin Topel are all—in one way or another—contributors to a vibrant local fly fishing makers' community.
Other Gear You May Want
I wade (and paddle) with a sling pack or day pack, a couple of bottles of water (or a bottle and a water filter), a rubber landing net, sunscreen, insect repellent, a mesh trash bag, and my cell phone. A hemostat (a surgical clamp) comes in handy when a sunfish unaccountably gets the whole fly inside its tiny mouth. Nippers are useful for trimming knots.
Sometime in November, after a couple of cold fronts have dropped the air and water temps, I’ll start wearing breathable chest waders. I’ll put them away again in early March. The Canyon Lake tailwaters are an exception to this rule, and anglers will benefit from waders year-round there (see the Guadalupe River chapter, page 307).
There are some terrific paddling opportunities in Central Texas, and one of the nation’s pioneering kayak-fishing shops, Austin Canoe & Kayak (ACK), has several stores in the area. Liveries, particularly on the Colorado River, the San Marcos River, and the Guadalupe River, provide rentals and shuttles at reasonable rates; some anglers have started relying on Uber or other rideshare services for shuttles.
Paddle what you have or can easily get (at normal flows, the local streams are beginner-friendly). If you are considering purchasing your own boat, think about a roto-molded polyethylene sit-on-top kayak in the 12-foot range, long enough to track well on open, big-water reaches or in the wind, nimble enough to negotiate tight turns, and tough enough to withstand lots of contact with limestone.
Some manufacturers advertise models that are stable enough to stand and cast in. Generally there is a trade-off here: stand to spot and cast but struggle a little more with the paddling, or learn to cast from a sitting position from a faster boat that tracks better. Local manufacturer Diablo Paddlesports is an exception, and their boats are a favorite among Central Texas anglers; they paddle reasonably well (both as traditional kayaks and as stand-up paddleboards) and provide great stability for sight casting.
A 14- to 16-foot canoe works well for two, well-coordinated anglers if you are fishing with a buddy, and a two-wheel caddy will make the carry to and from water’s edge easier, especially if you are fishing solo. Paddlecraft are exempt from registration in Texas, but Texas law requires all paddlers to carry a personal flotation device when paddling and to display an all-around white light if paddling at night or in reduced visibility.
In my day job as a professional mariner, and in a previous career as a spokesman for the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department (TPWD)—one year I got to talk about fifty-four boating fatalities over a twelve-month period—I’ve noticed something interesting and pertinent: life jackets work best when you wear them.
The Bottom Line
If you are coming to fly fishing from the conventional gear world, fly rods are—in one sense—just another tool. Everything you have learned about fish and fishing so far will help you. And yet, fly fishing is different. More than any other form of angling, it is a journey that, if not in itself a philosophy, has an awful lot of philosophy in it.
It also has, as Lefty Kreh pithily said, “more B.S. than a Kansas City feedlot.”
For example, you thought that round, orange thing was a “bobber,” didn’t you? C’mon, admit it. Well, I’ll have you know it is not a bobber. In the fly fishing world it’s a “strike indicator” or just an “indicator.” But really it’s just a bobber. Like that.
Shrug off that nonsense. Be patient with yourself as you ease (or jump) into the sport. Find some guys or gals who have been at it a while. More than likely, they’ll be happy to help you out.
