Support Your Local Retail Fishing Shops

In trying to keep up with the fishing industry I will spend some time surfing the internet and will often visit a few fishing forums. One topic that seems to be discussed on almost all the sites is the local fishing shop vs the big boxes. In fact, this topic is only second behind the never ending discussion of stocking fish over wild ones.

My father owned a retail auto parts store, and I spent many hours working there, so I have some insight to how important local support is. For the most part, small, local retail stores catering to the fishing trade, whether it is a fly shop or a bait shop, are run by the owners who grew up in the area. They love what they are doing. It’s not just a job, it’s a career fueled by passion.

The owners I have met are happy to see you. They are very knowledgeable, and are willing to share that knowledge. Ask them a question and you’ll get the right answer. What flies are working? They know. Which rivers are producing? They’ll tell you that also. It’s never an intrusion.

Did you ever ask a clerk in a big chain to explain the differences between two products and get a blank stare? I’m sure we all have at one time. It’s not necessarily the clerks fault. If big chains don’t provide proper training then the clerk will have a hard time servicing the customer. To me, part of training is using the products. There’s a faster learning curve when someone uses the product as opposed to being told about the product. In a big chain I’m sure the clerks don’t use all the products. But, ask a local shop owner the difference between two brands of waders and you’ll receive enough information to make a decision.

I also believe the local fishing shops can help make you a more successful fisherman. I’ve learned a lot from the shops I deal with. Whether it’s help with casting, how to read water, or setting up a steelhead rig, they can help. The best part of dealing with the local shops is you are forming a long term relationship with someone just as passionate about fishing as you are.

Brian Trow (left), and his brother, Colby (not pictured), from Mossy Creek Fly Fishing, have made me (right) a better fishermen.

So, if you’re going through your gear in anticipation of getting on the water, make a visit to your local fishing shop. You’ll be glad you did.

In ending, I want to give a shout out to the shops I deal with. You have made me a better fisherman.

Mad River Outfitters, Columbus, OH
Contact Mad River Outfitters


Mossy Creek Fly Fishing, Harrisonburg, VA
Contact Mossy Creek Fly Fishing


Rodmakers Shop, Strongsville, OH
Contact Rodmakers Shop


Chagrin River Outfitters, Chagrin Falls, OH
Contact CRO


George Anderson’s Yellowstone Angler, Livingston, MT
Contact Yellowstone Angler


Go out and fool a fish!

The Grand River Was Rockin’

Crack of dawn on the Grand

(Click on image for larger view.)

Dry conditions the last week or so helped the Grand River find its prime flow, at least for me. The water steadily dropped to under 600cfs, which is about my upper limit. I found that higher than that, and I have to put so much weight on the line, it feels like I'm casting an anchor. Maybe if I had better technique it wouldn’t be a problem. But, that’s for another post.

Easy access and good fishing makes the Lake Metroparks a popular destination for steelheaders.

Accessing the Grand at Helen Hazen Wyman Park, I managed to fish for about three hours today with 20 of my closest friends. Doesn’t anyone work anymore? Overall, the steelhead action was brisk, as many fishermen had multiple hookups. But for me, and a few others who started fishing the riffles, it was a slow start. I don’t know about other fishermen but when I’m not catching anything and others are, I feel like I’m watching a movie instead of having a part in it. Early on, all the hookups were in the slower, deeper sections of the river. I did find a spot in one of the pools, changed from an egg pattern to a chartreuse woolly bugger, and started to see some action. So, today, the movie had a happy ending.

A nice 18" fattie. Been in the river just long enough for some color.

Stay tuned for the sequel!

Go out and fool a fish!

Early Morning on the Chagrin River

When I retired almost two years ago I told myself that there’s no need to fish for steelhead on the weekends. Why fight the crowds, standing shoulder to shoulder, when the weekdays will be less crowded, and the good fishing spots open. For the most part, I followed my advice until today. So I figured to get out really early and stake out a spot. Plus, I wanted an excuse to use my headlamp, which was a gift from my wife.

Arriving at the North Chagrin Reservation, there was just a hint of light in the sky, none of it reaching the ground. Thankfully, I rig up the night before, eliminating having to fumble in the parking lot. Arrive, put on the headlamp, grab the gear, and go. Starting down the trail, I noticed my senses were in overdrive, especially sight and sound. Could this be due to the darkness that enveloped me? Each stride made a distinctive crunch. Birds, near and far, made their morning calls as if they were following me down the trail. The river, while not yet in view, seemed to roar as though it was a Class IV rapid. But it was my sight that seemed to overtake me.

First light at its finest. In a little more than a month those trees will be filled with green.

(Click on image for a larger view.)

The headlamp worked great, illuminating the area all around me. But it also accentuated the shadows. Walking down the trail, immersed in leafless trees and bushes, the branches seemed to come at me like tentacles wanting to grab my arm and pull me into a place that only Stephen King can describe. I don’t scare easily but I was happy when the light made itself known.

As for the day on the water, the best part of it was the photo of the sky, with a shade of blue not often seen. The fishing was slow. I worked a few runs with no takes. I wanted to hit another section of the river but about a dozen fishermen filled the spots, so I called it a day.

Part of the posse that combed every inch of water for chrome.

I think I’ll go back to weekdays.

Go out and fool a fish!