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.

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Pulling into Fisher's Gap overlook in the Shenandoah Park, I had a feeling this day was going to come up roses. The sunrise had just begun to tint the clouds a ruddy red on this June morning, but already the day was beginning to heat up.

Jointing up my little No. 2 Diamondback, I reflected on my previous angling expeditions to park streams, and it occurred to me that every Virginia fly-fisherman should cast into at least one of the over 90 native trout streams here. Some of my favorites are the Moorman, White Oak Canyon Run, the Hughes, the Rapidan and my choice today, the Rose River.

There's something special about these tumbling little mountain streams that have the audacity to call themselves "rivers." Actually the definition of a river is any stream that flows for at least 20 miles. Since all of these do flow for 20 I suppose they deserve the river designation, even though you can do a running jump across most of them.

The Rose can be approached from below the park on Virginia 670 out of the little town of Syria where it is large enough to attain river status. I'll never forget fishing that lower stretch one hot summer day and suddenly being startled to see the Rose River Winery above me. Climbing up the bank I moseyed into the bar in my waders and sampled some of their excellent vintages. Actually in spite of this kind of perk I prefer hiking down off the Parkway to the upper Rose for more of a true wilderness experience.

On this day, I set off down the fire road from Fisher's Gap for a 45-minute hike to the stream. Like all these park streams it's all downhill getting there. It's a good idea to keep in mind this same trail will seem infinitely longer and steeper at the end of a day's fishing. That's when your remaining supply of bottled water and high energy snacks come in handy. I carry two bottles and stash one in the icy stream water to be picked up on the return trip. Also I wear a sturdy pair of hiking shoes and bandoleer my hip waders on the hikes down and back.

Rounding a bend in the road shortly after 8 o'clock, I caught sight of the first plunge pool with a trail beside it leading downstream. Donning my boots, I began a stalking approach to the water.

Here's where the differences between these little Shenandoah streams and heavily fished public waters become obvious. In these small branches, there is a lack of insect life or other trout edibles. So these little fish are opportunists, and eat whatever comes along. Sometimes it doesn't seem to matter which fly you put on the water, although this day I did well with a No. 16 Adams.

By contrast, on a put-and-take stream, trout are skittish about anything sporting feathers and tinsel, having been victimized by them. What these Rose River inhabitants fear are predators: mink, fish hawks, or the occasional heron swooping down on them. I was just another predator and so my shadow sent them darting away.

Ducking low and taking advantage of boulders and brush cover, I tried to make myself less threatening. On these streams the skills of a hunter are much more important than casting techniques. I felt like an idiot, crouching low and peering from behind laurel bushes, but fortunately there was no one around to observe my eccentric behavior. I avoided wading as much as possible since lightest ripple will send them packing, as will a careless cast splashing line on the water. Camouflage clothing is also a plus.

These little 5-inch brookies strike in a split second, and it took me a couple of misses to adjust my reflexes. I hooked half a dozen from one pool, as the water was crowded with fish. This was unusual, as there are few spots with enough food and cover for more than one or two trout. They usually hug the bottom of deep holes, plunge pools or undercut banks to avoid predators, but keep an eye cocked to the surface so they can dart up at a fly in an in instant. At one bend I observed an 11-inch brown trout cohabiting with the natives. Some huge browns have been seen in the Rose, migrants from downstream stockings. It is the Shenandoah Park's policy to eliminate the brown trout, as they feed on the young brooks and interfere with the pure native strain. I suppose there is some wisdom to this, although I hate to see beautiful big browns being killed.

The Rose River is not as well known as the Rapidan or Moorman, but it has a certain charm which keeps me coming back. Like most Shenandoah Park streams, it's surrounded by lush stands of rhododendron and laurel and is home to many species of wildlife. As I sat on the bank eating an apple, I observed a hungry-looking deer not 40 feet away. When I tossed my apple core 15 feet from me, he wandered over unafraid and scarfed it up. Memories of special moments like this are what make the Rose my favorite Park stream.

To reach the Rose take the Skyline drive up from Waynesboro to the Fisher's Gap parking area. From there hike the Rose River fire road downhill until you see water.