No, we’re not talking about a dance move. Rather it’s putting your fly where the trout are!
Spring 2024
By Steve Hudson
Photos by Jimmy Jacobs
Smith Creek, which flows through part of Unicoi State Park near Helen, is one of my favorite trout streams this time of year. As one of Georgia’s five Delayed Harvest streams, it offers enjoyable trout fishing through late fall, winter, and early spring. Its relatively small size makes it approachable and accessible – and that makes it a good place for beginners to learn more about fly fishing.

Smith Creek is managed with delayed-harvest regulations.
Often, when fishing Smith Creek, I’ll run across newcomers to the sport. Sometimes they are having good days and catching fish. But sometimes they’re not, and the reason often has to do with the flies they’re using.
Many who are new to flyfishing tend to focus on using classic dry flies, those elegant floating imitations of adult aquatic insects that are the very icon of trout fishing. Few things match the thrill of seeing a trout rise to take a dry fly, and that may be one reason that a dry is the fly of choice so many times.
But is it always best?

The parking area at Smith Creek in Unicoi State Park.
I remember one day years and years ago. At the time, I was firmly in the “beginner” category, and I too was mesmerized by the mystique of dry flies. I’d been fishing with one all day, in fact, but all I had to show for my efforts was a tired arm.
Taking a break at lunchtime, I found myself chatting with a veteran of the flyrod way, an experienced flyfisher whom I had seen on the stream before.
“How did you do?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “I had a pretty good day. Got quite a few, in fact. How about you?”
Uh-oh.
“Zero,” I said after a moment.
Then, in hopes of at least appearing to be a sophisticated flyfisher (and because I thought it was the cool thing to say) I added, “I’ve been using a dry fly all day, you know…I really prefer the dry…”
(Because isn’t that what all the coolest flyfishers say?)
“…but I guess they don’t like how I’m holding my arm…”
The guru listened and paused for a moment. Then he said words that changed my flyfishing life.
“Yes, I prefer to use dry flies too,” he said. “But only when that’s what they’re hitting.”
There’s no doubt about it. Catching fish on dry flies is fun! But that long-ago mentor was right. For dry flies to be effective, the fish have to be interested in feeding on the surface.
This time of year, on Smith Creek and on many other streams too, dry fly action is not what it will be later on, once springtime rolls around and bug activity picks up again.
But what about those splashy strikes you see on the surface even when it’s close to freezing outside? Isn’t that the signal to use a dry fly?
I’m glad you asked.

A Smith Creek rainbow trout.
This time of year, what you’re often seeing when you encounter those splashy rises is a fish that’s chasing an emerger – that is, an immature pre-adult form of some sort of aquatic bug. Aquatic insects grow up on the bottom of the stream, moving toward the surface only at the moment they’re ready to “emerge” from the water as adults. The moment of transition is a vulnerable one for the bugs, and fish seem to know that and will feed enthusiastically on “emergers,” as they’re known, often taking the bug just as it nears the surface. That’s why you’ll see those splashy rises.
There’s almost certainly more going on than emerging emergers, however. Down deep, where the fish are, odds are good that all sorts of buggy excitement is going on below the surface as nymphs and larvae move and feed actively on the stream’s bed. That activity gets the attention of trout, for the fish may be chowing down subsurface even when there is little or no surface indication that they are actively feeding.
Those who know about such things say that as much as 90 percent of a trout’s feeding takes place subsurface. Thus, it behooves us all to look to the subsurface unless there is compelling reason (such as a seasonal hatch) not to do so.
When I encounter that flyfisher who isn’t doing well even while those nearby are catching fish, I like to offer a gentle bit of help when I can. Often, that takes the form of encouraging my fellow angler to try subsurface flies, and I’ll usually carry extra ones so that I can share what’s working with others whom I may meet.
That happened just the other day on Smith Creek. It was a cold, cold day, one of those days probably better suited to being inside where it’s warm. But you know how flyfishers are.
There were only a few anglers on the stream. Most were catching some fish. But one seemed to be having no luck at all.
“I just can’t get ‘em interested,” he said when we chatted later. “They say this is a good fly” – he pointed to the size 12 Adams on the end of his leader – “but I guess I’m not holding my elbow right or something.”
Déjà vu? You bet it was, but in an upside-down sort of way!
I talked to my newfound friend for a few more minutes, and I gave him some of the flies that had been working for me – specifically, a tan beadhead soft-hackle emerger (about size 16) and a couple of size 14 Perdigons, a fast-sinking fly that’s popular among competitive fly fishers.
Why those particular patterns? Because they sink fast and get down near the bottom. Other similar subsurface flies should work, too; the thing seems to be not so much the specific pattern but simply getting down deep in the water column. Weighted flies will do that (add split shot if necessary), and using fine tippet material will help the sink rate too. It’s all about putting the flies where the fish are, and that’s down deep.
I’ve consistently had good luck with those and similar patterns on Smith Creek, Amicalola Creek, the Toccoa DH water, and the DH portion of the Chattahoochee, among many others. I fished them with an indicator (traditional nymph style), without an indicator (Euro-nymphing style), and even with a tenkara rod fitted with a 10-foot PVC line and 4 feet of 5X fluoro as a leader. In each case, the fast-sinking nymphs had done the job.
They worked that day on Smith Creek, too. In fact, they worked so well that there was a note on my car when I returned to parking lot near dark.
“Thanks for the flies and for the tip to fish them deep,” it read. “They did the job!”
I like it when things come together like that. Don’t you?
Steve Hudson is a newspaper columnist, freelance outdoor writer, book author and award-winning member of the Georgia Outdoor Writers Association. Steve makes his home in Roswell and can be contacted at aabw@comcast.net.