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

When I first started fly-angling, my fly of choice was the streamer, the green cone head woolly bugger.

Not having a clue what it imitated, or why it worked, it was the first one sold to me by Blue Ridge Fly Fishers, and “by cracky, the dag ’um thing caught me some fish!”

All kinds of fish, and frequently, it was fish I wasn’t even targeting, like fallfish, red eye, blue gill, sunfish.

But I felt like a pro tossing that thing a mile downstream, stripping back up as fast as I could, praying for a strike.

Often, I stripped in nothing but tippet, as I ripped the fly off everything in sight.

Couple of times, I even threw the fly off the line via a crummy knot, and saw my $1.95 investment launch into the woods, as my fly line parachuted pitifully into the water. “Whoops.”

Need a fly? What kind of green cone head woolly bugger would you like?

Fact is though: the streamer is a good fly to learn with.

Because it has some weight, I think it is easier for a novice to get the feel of throwing a nice tight loop, and the weight makes you to slow your cast, which is one of the essences of good fly-casting.

Because it’s big, you can also see it plop in the water, and see it work under decent fishing conditions.

Another reason the streamer is so effective is in its similarity to crank bait.

Most fly-rodders graduate from short sticks to fly rods, and the green cone head is, at the very least, a distant cousin to the beetle spinner.

As my addiction to fly-rodding grew, so did my knowledge, and through many trips to the water, via trial and error, and dumb luck, I started learning my bugs.

Like a child who forgets about his blanket, I forgot about the streamer en route to the big four of mayflies, caddis flies, stone flies and midges -- and the even cooler bugs called Terrestrials.

The only caveat is saltwater fly-fishing where everything is a streamer, as I have yet to see saltwater fish crush a dead drifting beetle.

Saltwater fish eat other saltwater fish to live. If you don’t see any green cone head woolly buggers at Economy Tackle in Sarasota, you do see a lot of green buck tail jigs and a zillion other flies tied to mimic lowly bait fish that the cone head WB imitates.

Another reason I left the streamer behind: there were plenty of times I would not catch fish with it.

Before I learned my entomology, I thought the reason for that was “a bad day.”

However, the streamer is a must have in every fly box.

Although I still use it less than before, the streamer is a practical fly in a variety of fresh water situations.

On Saturday in Smyth County where nothing was hatching and I saw just a few rises, I started with brown crayfish pattern.

A huge rainbow chased this streamer from out of a root ball, and smacked the fly, only to shake it out before I could get a solid hook up.

If you need a sign to stay with a fly, this is it.

Today on the South Fork, I tied on the black # 8 Strip Tease, and starting working my downstream.

I released 14 wild trout in three hours. Here’s why: the water is at a perfect temperature right now, and trout will expend the energy to hunt down a streamer

Number two, I fish a streamer entirely differently than I did when I first started christening the green cone head.

Using a 5-weight or 4-weight rod minimum with 4 to 5X tippet, I still cast cross-stream, but my technique is totally different, which is to say, I make the fly do a lot more than “just swim it upstream.”

Always tying a loop knot so it wobbles a bit, I fish it close in, jig it, and roll cast it over the rocky bottoms, brush and cuts. I dead drift it, do short strips, mends and more drifts, and I always vary my stripping speed. You want this fly to look like it is distressed, wounded or running for its life.

And, I always raise my rod tip and dance it in close, before making another cast.

You want to keep your fly within the grasp of the hunter.

In speaking with Tom Brown yesterday, the fishing manager at Orvis’ downtown store in Roanoke, he said all he fishes with are streamers. He said, “my numbers sometimes aren’t as good but the fish I release usually are bigger.”

But one thing you have to realize is that with all flies, when they shut down on a pattern, you are usually “done” for the day no matter what the fly.

Such was the case today. My black streamer was white hot, then faded, until I went to a # 14 Green Stone dry, and starting getting hook-ups again.

Late June is wonderful time to fly-fish because there are such a variety of flies that will work. Plus, the mountain trout are not yet sleepy from the super hot days.

When the temps start to blister, it is also a good time to fish the streamer again.

This time, dust off the 8 weight, and use the biggest, nastiest pattern you tie or buy. For smallies!