Richard Formato

Richard Formato is an avid catch-and-release fly-fisherman from Wytheville, Va. When not on the water, he operates a small business there. Formato loves to fly-fish in his native Southwest Virginia because of the great water and wonderful people. He also loves to fish the flats and shallows of the Gulf of Mexico and Atlantic whenever work and weather permit. He is on the Department of Conservation and Recreation's board of directors and is a trustee of the Shenandoah National Forest and Skyline Drive.

Recent columns

• What about Bob?
• Notes from the Charlotte Fly Show
• A chance meeting
• A wish for Jack

• Column archive
• Talk fly-fishing

Just got back from New York City.

Coming back to Wytheville on Monday, I was glad to get back to a world of sparsely populated sidewalks and cheap colas.

Instead of traveling south to my usual trout waters, I headed up I-81 to Draper and shot down Reed Creek Road.

Parking on the gravel road next to Reed Creek, I was struck at how quiet it was.

After last weekend, it was a stark contrast.

Unpacking my 6 weight Sage XP (with Tibor Reel), I jumped into my Simms guide weight pants waders and started walking up the road by the water.

In another 3 weeks, I will probably be wet wading Reed Creek in shorts and river sandals, but I knew the water was still cool.

From my vantage point, I could see a few good size small mouth bass pointing upstream near the banks in the bright gin clear water.

That in its self was a nice sight. Normally, you don’t sight fish for bass, you “position fish” for bass, which means casting to rises, ledge lines, drop-offs and banks.

Reed Creek is a solid bass fishery. Wide, chest deep in places, Reed Creek has rocky bottom that combine with its warm waters and overgrown banks for a nice little warm water bass fishery.

Reed Creek is also easy to fly-fish. It is the kind of place you can scoot for a few hours after work and still be back home in time for supper.

Knowing there were bass all lined up downstream, I waded in still as a stone.

I tied on a crystal flash wooly bugger and cast downstream, and started stripping cross current.

Not getting a hit, I switched to big rubber leg black bass bug. Even with the 6 weight, I had a little difficulty casting this gigantic fly. I snipped off some leader, slowed my cast down and tried again, this time getting nice top water hit.

But with the water being so slow and iridescent, I thought my popper might be too much on this gentle day.

The next best choice was a smaller grasshopper. Refocusing my pursuits, I parachuted the grasshopper within a foot of the banks.

Bam! I hooked a classic bronze back.

A big smallmouth bass is a distinctive fish. The small mouth is moderately elongated, with a stocky, streamlined body and a dark, olive-colored side that is often barred and splotchy.

Its lower jaw extends slightly more forward than upper jaw and its tail fin is slightly forked with a black stripe.

With a big top water hit, it was clear … bass season has started!

However, there was thing I had not bargained for.

When I waded in there was no one within 5 miles of me.

For the first 45 minutes, there were maybe 5 cars that dusted by me.

One of the cars, a dented up black Diamante, cruised by me twice. Soon after, I heard car doors open and close.

Two anglers, a man and woman in their 40s with short spinning gear waded in 20 feet in front of me. They did not acknowledge me even though we made eye contact, and they were within a short roll cast of my rod.

In shorts and tennis shoes, they charged into the creek and complained to each other about the chilly water and immediately started fishing the pool right in front of me, directly in the path of my wade.

I looked upstream … no one. I looked downstream past them … no one.

These people could have chosen miles of open stream but instead chose to walk right of front of me.

I was stunned.

Do I say something?

If I do, what will I say? What will happen?

I mean, after all, this is a public access place.

I had no more right to Reed Creek than they did, but in terms of common sense, I could not understand why they would want to crowd in front of me?

I made the best decision. I broke down my rod right in the middle of Reed Creek

I quietly climbed out of the water, and walked back to my truck parked within 20 feet of the couple.

I thought they needed the water more than me today.

I had released a few nice smallmouth bass, had a nice time on this sun-shiny day, and cleared my head from my trip to The Big Apple.

Anglers should not do this to each other, though.

I always give the right away to an angler who is moving in my direction.

With thousands and thousands of miles of bass and trout water in the commonwealth, it also seemed stupid to confront people who obviously had no regard for me.

Maybe sometime, somewhere, this will happen to them, and they will feel the same disappointment I felt.

Maybe then, they will then learn the term “sportsman.”