The Grab Zone: Switching Up Your Trout Spey Tactics
Words by Fred Telleen
Over many seasons of wintertime trout spey on Montana's Missouri River, I have dialed in some very specific grab zones. Zones where you just know your fly is going to get attention. Zones where no fly grab is more surprising than getting the fly grabbed. Zones you can return to repeatedly and expect results.
But over time, things can change. A river is very dynamic. The bottom is constantly moving. Ice blocks and downed timber can carve new channels and create fresh gravel bars. Holes and buckets fill in. New fishy zones form, and others fade away as water levels and flows fluctuate. Years of low water provide different zones than years of high water. Fish move. Lately, we’ve been on a low water-cycle and that has changed some of my reliable grab zones.
The other day, I fished one of my favorites. A zone that’s produced hundreds of grabs over the years at varying water levels. I was fishing a Scandi head and a natural-colored fly. It should have been the perfect prescription for the fish I expected to find in 2-4’ of water, off a gradually tapering shelf. The normal grab zone was well within reach of my fly, but the fish weren’t playing. I worked into the deeper, slower water and got one nudge, but no solid takes. I couldn’t believe it: I got blanked with my Plan A system in one of my favorite grab zones.
I was ready with Plan B and switched to a Skagit head with a 5/5 T11 MOW tip, an average length leader and a Flash N’ Grab. I worked further out on the edge into faster water. I got one aggressive grab high on the shelf, just under the quicker flow, and landed a feisty rainbow. But that was it. I touched nothing more as I worked deeper into the target zone where I expected fish to be. I was happy to have fished the Skagit setup and brought a fish to hand but remained baffled by so few grabs. I wondered, maybe there were not enough fish to become competitive, like they often are in that prime lie. I expected more eats, but the one caught fish seemed to put the others off the bite. Continuing in that spot, I knew, would be futile. Time to move on with Plan C:
Rod: 4114 Saga
Head: 270 Grain Ballistic Express II Scandi
Running Line: 30# OPST Laser Line
Leader: 12” of 40# Maxima Chameleon blood knotted to 9’ 2X fluorocarbon tapered leader with 2’ of 3x FC tippet
Fly: 1.5” Black Marabou Jig Streamer
I went back to the Scandi with a longer, lighter leader and tied on a small black jig streamer. I decided to search the flat below the deeper zone, where I’d expected rainbows to be stacked. Maybe, I thought, a reclusive brown might be somewhere below.
The first short cast over the shallows resulted in a sharp tap. I pulled some more line, sent another cast and caught the brown I was expecting to see somewhere in that hundred-yard stretch. OK, I thought, I got him. This fly worked in that water, but should I continue? Usually after one fish at the top of that flat, it was likely wasted effort to try for more. At best, I would find one more fish, even after covering a bunch of water, and there were better grab zones to target if I picked up and moved. Maybe I was just being lazy, but I had one of those fishy feelings and continued to work that spot.
After a half-dozen casts, I was beginning to second guess my decision and imagined I might be chasing ghosts. This flat had never been a big producer, and there was no clear target area. It was not what I would think of as winter holding water. The moderate current was good, but an extended area of relatively shallow water is not where fish typically concentrate without the presence of lots of summer bugs. Maybe I should move to another area or at least go back to my high probability spot and change flies, I thought.
The wind had been vicious for days and, suddenly, the sun was out, the wind died, and it turned into a beautiful late afternoon with glowing golden light. I had another 200 feet of the flat to cover, so I decided to finish it out. I was enjoying the weather change and got into my casting groove, going about it methodically with low intensity. Long casts angled slightly downstream. Let the fly swim. Give it a couple pumps halfway down, and again at the hang down. Take three or four steps and repeat. I was in a happy casting zone when a solid grab surprised me. Missed that fish, but I let the fly continue swinging, and another fish crushed it and went airborne. More fish followed as I finished out the run, and it struck me that I’d found a new grab zone where I never expected one to be.
Being surprised is one of the best feelings in fishing and finding a new grab zone is reason to get back out there ASAP. Sometimes not catching fish where and how you expect to can lead to new discoveries. I don’t know if I stumbled on a pack of hungry fish that happened to be moving through, or if they live there only during specific conditions. Those fish could move away before I make it back to the river, but that zone is now on my radar. I will return when conditions merit because I’ve got that zone, and those specific conditions, filed away in my fish brain. When things line up, I’ll be out there, picking and probing, prospecting for additional grab zones based on what I discovered the other day. That’s winter, a time for discovery, a time to swing, a time to find your groove when the river moves at a slower pace, and time seems to pause and allow for reflection.
