Fly-casting
is a lot like driving a car. We spend so much time focused on speed and power,
we sometimes forget the importance of a good stop.
An old mentor of mine, the late Mel Krieger, would routinely start a
class by having the students unstring their rods, then wave those rods
in the air.
But Mel wasn't looking for just any kind of waving. He was explicit that
the motion should be smooth and continuous, like swinging a rope over
your head. He would ask the class to think about how the rod felt: A
smooth motion with no particular sensation.
Then Mel would change the exercise, saying he wanted everybody to use a
sharp swing, rapidly accelerating the rod and stopping hard. He even had
a word for this.
"Whump the rod," Mel would say. And he insisted that the class join him in saying "Whump!" with each swing.
"Do you feel the difference?" he would ask.
The difference was pronounced. Instead of a smooth motion, you would
sense the rod bending and straightening with a distinctive rebound. You
would feel a Whump! You would feel the difference between a good cast
and a bad cast. You would feel what it means to "load" the rod.
At its core, fly-casting is nothing more than loading the rod, or making
it bend, by accelerating it through the stroke. The more we load the
rod, the deeper it bends. Think of this bend as energy waiting to be
released.
How do you release it?
You stop the rod, allowing it to unload and throw your line. The sharper the stop, the better the cast.
Give Mel's exercise a try. Give your rod a Whump!
Watch Your Loops
I love watching the fly line when I cast. It's a thing of beauty that almost lulls me into a meditative state.
But watching the line is more than an aesthetic experience. It is also a way to judge what I'm doing. By watching the line, I can determine whether I'm making a good cast or bad. Given a little information, you can use this same diagnostic tool.
Let's begin with the understanding that the line doesn't just jump off the rod tip in some random manner. No, in fly-casting, the line actually unrolls, forming a candy-cane shape that we call a loop.
Properly executed, the loop looks something like this:
Or it might appear more pointed, like this:
Both shapes represent good casts. Note that there is not a big distance between the fly line's upper and lower legs. We say these loops are tight, or narrow. You might also say we are drawing a straight line to the target with the rod tip, focusing our cast. The closer we get to "drawing" a perfectly straight line, the tighter the loop becomes. This is an efficient cast. We're not wasting a lot of energy.
What kind of loop wastes energy? A wide loop, which looks more like this:
Notice that the wide loop has lots of space between the upper and lower legs, and the "face" of the loop is much more blunt. Most of your energy is being used to suspend line in the air; very little is being used to carry the fly to your target. The result is that you end up working much harder than necessary. Meanwhile, both distance and accuracy suffer.
How do you correct a wide loop?
You are probably driving the rod tip through a very wide arc, much like the windshield wiper on a car, and that wide arc is literally pulling your loop apart. Resist flexing your wrist when you cast, and stop the rod tip higher, well above your head, on both the back cast and forward cast.
That leaves us with the tailing loop, which looks like this:
A tailing loop means the line is actually crossing itself and tangling. If you've ever noticed a mysterious knot in your leader, known as a wind knot, that means you've thrown a tailing loop, even if you didn't see a tailing loop.
Figuring out what causes a tailing loop can be a bit complicated, because multiple faults are possible. But in my experience, most tails can be corrected with a few simple measures.
Focus on a stroke that accelerates smoothly. Don't rush it, and don't force it. Try lengthening your stroke, and resist any temptation to power your way out of the problem. You might find that casting with less power eliminates the tail.
But watching the line is more than an aesthetic experience. It is also a way to judge what I'm doing. By watching the line, I can determine whether I'm making a good cast or bad. Given a little information, you can use this same diagnostic tool.
Let's begin with the understanding that the line doesn't just jump off the rod tip in some random manner. No, in fly-casting, the line actually unrolls, forming a candy-cane shape that we call a loop.
Properly executed, the loop looks something like this:
Or it might appear more pointed, like this:
Both shapes represent good casts. Note that there is not a big distance between the fly line's upper and lower legs. We say these loops are tight, or narrow. You might also say we are drawing a straight line to the target with the rod tip, focusing our cast. The closer we get to "drawing" a perfectly straight line, the tighter the loop becomes. This is an efficient cast. We're not wasting a lot of energy.
What kind of loop wastes energy? A wide loop, which looks more like this:
Notice that the wide loop has lots of space between the upper and lower legs, and the "face" of the loop is much more blunt. Most of your energy is being used to suspend line in the air; very little is being used to carry the fly to your target. The result is that you end up working much harder than necessary. Meanwhile, both distance and accuracy suffer.
How do you correct a wide loop?
You are probably driving the rod tip through a very wide arc, much like the windshield wiper on a car, and that wide arc is literally pulling your loop apart. Resist flexing your wrist when you cast, and stop the rod tip higher, well above your head, on both the back cast and forward cast.
That leaves us with the tailing loop, which looks like this:
A tailing loop means the line is actually crossing itself and tangling. If you've ever noticed a mysterious knot in your leader, known as a wind knot, that means you've thrown a tailing loop, even if you didn't see a tailing loop.
Figuring out what causes a tailing loop can be a bit complicated, because multiple faults are possible. But in my experience, most tails can be corrected with a few simple measures.
Focus on a stroke that accelerates smoothly. Don't rush it, and don't force it. Try lengthening your stroke, and resist any temptation to power your way out of the problem. You might find that casting with less power eliminates the tail.
Get The Slack Out
Always drop that rod tip before beginning your cast.
Too
often, I see fly-fishermen start their casts with the rod tip held
waist high or even above the head. It's a common mistake, and not just
by beginners. Many experienced casters do it as well.
The result is slack in your line, as much as 7 feet of slack that must be eliminated before you can initiate your cast. The common solution is to force the cast, which typically turns out badly because it leaves you with too little stroke to properly load the rod.
The better approach?
Get rid of that slack by dropping the
rod tip; drop it all the way down to the water. I go so far as to
actually stick my rod tip into the water (don't worry, it's waterproof).
Once the tip is down, you can strip in any excess line. And once that slack is gone, you're ready to initiate a proper back cast.
Too
often, I see fly-fishermen start their casts with the rod tip held
waist high or even above the head. It's a common mistake, and not just
by beginners. Many experienced casters do it as well.The result is slack in your line, as much as 7 feet of slack that must be eliminated before you can initiate your cast. The common solution is to force the cast, which typically turns out badly because it leaves you with too little stroke to properly load the rod.
The better approach?
Get rid of that slack by dropping the
rod tip; drop it all the way down to the water. I go so far as to
actually stick my rod tip into the water (don't worry, it's waterproof).Once the tip is down, you can strip in any excess line. And once that slack is gone, you're ready to initiate a proper back cast.
Tighten Up Those Rod Ferrules
Always make sure your rod ferrules are firmly seated.
If you have spent much time with a graphite fly rod, you most likely have experienced that awkward moment when a ferrule comes undone, causing part of your rod to soar off on its own. This is especially awkward if you're casting over water, because that prompts the question: How am I going to get my rod tip back?
But inconvenient though it may be, things could have turned out worse. A less fortunate angler might find he has a busted rod.
Poorly seated ferrules are, in fact, a common cause of rod breakage. As the sections loosen, the male section starts working back and forth against the ferrule's outer wall. The action generates significant stress, causing a catastrophic failure that can sound like a rifle shot when the rod breaks.
And the problem is quite preventable with a firm seating of the rod sections. Here's how:
So if you've been waxing your ferrules, don't do that anymore. If you've never used wax, forget I even mentioned it.
If you have spent much time with a graphite fly rod, you most likely have experienced that awkward moment when a ferrule comes undone, causing part of your rod to soar off on its own. This is especially awkward if you're casting over water, because that prompts the question: How am I going to get my rod tip back?
But inconvenient though it may be, things could have turned out worse. A less fortunate angler might find he has a busted rod.
Poorly seated ferrules are, in fact, a common cause of rod breakage. As the sections loosen, the male section starts working back and forth against the ferrule's outer wall. The action generates significant stress, causing a catastrophic failure that can sound like a rifle shot when the rod breaks.
And the problem is quite preventable with a firm seating of the rod sections. Here's how:
- Your hands should grip the pieces right at the ferrule. If your hands are far apart, you're going to cause unnecessary stress to the graphite shaft.
- When you position the rod sections for joining, rotate the two pieces so that one is turned 90 degrees from the other. In other words, give one section a quarter turn.
- As you push the sections together, rotate them into alignment. And don't be shy about twisting the sections together. You want the joining to be really firm.
- Now, give the ferrule a test tug, to make sure the sections aren't loose.
- Grip the sections close to the ferrule, to avoid unnecessary stress.
- As you pull the sections apart, give them a twist, opposite the direction from when you assembled the rod.
- Hold the jammed section behind your back, with your hands positioned on both sides of the ferrule. Again, try to keep your hands close.
- Drop down into a crouch, so you can position your hands just behind your knees.
- As you pull the sections straight apart with your hands, push out with your knees. The added pressure generated by your legs should free the sections.
- Standing face-to-face with your friend, grip the rod with your hands on either side of the ferrule.
- Have your friend grip the rod with one hand on the outside edge of your right hand and the other on the inside edge of your left hand. In other words, you want to avoid having both your hands on the inside and both his/her hands on the outside.
- Pull the sections apart with a smooth motion. Make sure you pull straight, to avoid damaging the ferrule.
So if you've been waxing your ferrules, don't do that anymore. If you've never used wax, forget I even mentioned it.
A Little Line Care = A Better Cast
Never underestimate the value of a clean fly line.
Anyone who has cast a line that's fresh from the box knows the truth of that advice. A new line is always a joy, because it is slick and clean, meaning it zips through the rod guides with minimal effort.
New lines perform so well that tournament casters often buy their lines in pairs. One line is for practice. The other only comes out on tournament day, then it gets retired from competition.
Why?
Because the line degrades with each cast. It picks up a bit of dirt and gets small abrasions, making it a little less slick and causing performance to slip. That diminished performance can cost a tournament caster his title.
If you're not into competitive casting, peak performance is less critical, but that's not to say you should ignore routine maintenance. A little care will go a long way, allowing your line to slip through the guides with less resistance. Not only will you cast farther, you will also cast with greater accuracy and precision.
For lines that have not yet been abused, a simple cleaning is all you need. Any of the standard fly line cleaners (sometimes called line dressings) will do. Just apply a drop to a soft, clean cloth, then pull the line through the cloth a couple times. If you see dirt on the cloth, take a few more swipes, removing as much of the dirt as you can.
You'll get even better results by letting the line sit overnight after cleaning, then pulling it through a clean cloth a few times for polishing.
What if your line is really dirty, probably because you can't remember the last time you cleaned it?
Use a little warm water, a clean cloth and soap. Do not use detergent. Detergents will damage your line. Now, wipe the line dry, and apply your standard fly line cleaner.
How often should you clean your line?
I like to clean my lines after each day of fishing. Now, I've been described as obsessive-compulsive, so perhaps that's overkill. But our south Louisiana waters have volumes of muck not found in other parts of the country. I'm not as scrupulous, for example, when trout fishing in Arkansas or Montana. In those conditions, I might fish for a week without cleaning.
But the moment I notice that my line doesn't shoot through the guides, or when I see the tip of a floating line sink, I pull out my rag and bottle of cleaner.
If somebody tells you to use Armor All or some other vinyl cleaner, ignore that advice, because such cleaners can damage your line. You're much better off with a silicon-based cleaner that's specifically formulated for fly lines.
When should you replace your line?
It depends on how often you fish and how well you care for the line. In addition to regular cleaning, storing your line away from excessive heat and sunlight will extend its life. In other words, avoid leaving your reel locked in your car on a hot summer day.
Meanwhile, inspect your line from time to time for tell-tale signs of wear. Look for tiny cracks or any darkening of the plastic coating. A line that becomes wiry instead of supple has probably outlived its usefulness. And a line that no longer retains its slickness after cleaning is probably finished.
Anyone who has cast a line that's fresh from the box knows the truth of that advice. A new line is always a joy, because it is slick and clean, meaning it zips through the rod guides with minimal effort.
New lines perform so well that tournament casters often buy their lines in pairs. One line is for practice. The other only comes out on tournament day, then it gets retired from competition.
Why?
Because the line degrades with each cast. It picks up a bit of dirt and gets small abrasions, making it a little less slick and causing performance to slip. That diminished performance can cost a tournament caster his title.
If you're not into competitive casting, peak performance is less critical, but that's not to say you should ignore routine maintenance. A little care will go a long way, allowing your line to slip through the guides with less resistance. Not only will you cast farther, you will also cast with greater accuracy and precision.
For lines that have not yet been abused, a simple cleaning is all you need. Any of the standard fly line cleaners (sometimes called line dressings) will do. Just apply a drop to a soft, clean cloth, then pull the line through the cloth a couple times. If you see dirt on the cloth, take a few more swipes, removing as much of the dirt as you can.
You'll get even better results by letting the line sit overnight after cleaning, then pulling it through a clean cloth a few times for polishing.
What if your line is really dirty, probably because you can't remember the last time you cleaned it?
Use a little warm water, a clean cloth and soap. Do not use detergent. Detergents will damage your line. Now, wipe the line dry, and apply your standard fly line cleaner.
How often should you clean your line?
I like to clean my lines after each day of fishing. Now, I've been described as obsessive-compulsive, so perhaps that's overkill. But our south Louisiana waters have volumes of muck not found in other parts of the country. I'm not as scrupulous, for example, when trout fishing in Arkansas or Montana. In those conditions, I might fish for a week without cleaning.
But the moment I notice that my line doesn't shoot through the guides, or when I see the tip of a floating line sink, I pull out my rag and bottle of cleaner.
If somebody tells you to use Armor All or some other vinyl cleaner, ignore that advice, because such cleaners can damage your line. You're much better off with a silicon-based cleaner that's specifically formulated for fly lines.
When should you replace your line?
It depends on how often you fish and how well you care for the line. In addition to regular cleaning, storing your line away from excessive heat and sunlight will extend its life. In other words, avoid leaving your reel locked in your car on a hot summer day.
Meanwhile, inspect your line from time to time for tell-tale signs of wear. Look for tiny cracks or any darkening of the plastic coating. A line that becomes wiry instead of supple has probably outlived its usefulness. And a line that no longer retains its slickness after cleaning is probably finished.
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