I recall experimenting at the “Toilet Bowl” run below the spillway on Colorado’s Frying Pan River with the legendary guide Kea Hause, who is sadly no longer with us. The Toilet Bowl was teeming with large trout, but the water was incredibly murky and turbulent – hence its name. You couldn’t approach it with the same finesse as you might fish the “Texas Bend” or “Mean Joe Greene” hole just downstream with traditional fly fishing methods.
The solution? A tandem rig of mysis shrimp flies, heavily weighted leader with substantial split-shot just above the flies. Forget indicators or delicate presentations – the tactic was to flip a cast and let it plummet. You’d quickly feel the line tighten, and the subtle indication of a bite was the line going slack. A hook set at that moment often resulted in battling a sizable trout.
Two anglers in a drift boat on a river, one is holding a fishing rod and reel, showcasing a successful day of fly fishing.
Truthfully, it wasn’t the most captivating fishing. We’d land a trout or two to say we’d done it, before seeking out more engaging opportunities like a drake hatch elsewhere on the river.
Years later, while working on a Field & Stream article about the Bassmaster Classic, I prefished with Luke Clausen. I observed him expertly working a Texas rig with a weighted soft plastic bait in the thick weed mats of Florida’s Lake Tohopekaliga. A week later, he won half a million dollars at the Classic, employing the same technique in the same locations he had shown me.
An overhead shot of a bass fishing lure rig, highlighting the weighted setup used in bass fishing, similar to Euro nymphing.
Weighted baits, designed to maintain line tension and enhance bite detection, have been a staple across various fishing disciplines for decades.
It was perhaps inevitable that trout fly fishing would adopt this approach and rebrand it as something innovative and sophisticated, much like how bobbers transformed into “strike indicators.” After teams from Poland, the Czech Republic, Spain, and other European nations consistently dominated the FIPS-Mouche World Fly Fishing Championships using heavy nymph flies and specialized, sensitive rods – high-stick nymphing with indicators and added weight is prohibited in these competitions – the effectiveness became undeniable. This led to the rise of the “Euro Nymphing” technique. Today, the market is flooded with “Euro” rods, flies, lines, and accessories, more than ever before.
A fisherman demonstrating the Euro nymphing technique, highlighting the specialized rod and line control used in this method.
If Euro nymphing appeals to you, by all means, embrace it. However, let’s address a few key realities:
- Firstly, Euro nymphing is fundamentally a trout-focused adaptation of the Texas rig or crappie rig principles.
- Secondly, a premium, high-dollar rod isn’t essential to effectively execute this technique.
- And thirdly, at its core, Euro nymphing is about presenting a weighted fly directly in front of fish and relying on rapid reaction to detect subtle strikes.
- It often deviates from the traditional fly fishing experience centered around casting artistry, hatch matching, and broader angling skills.
I find Euro nymphing somewhat enjoyable and conceptually interesting. It’s certainly a valuable technique to learn and explore. For anglers striving to be well-rounded, having Euro nymphing in your arsenal is a definite asset.
A close-up shot of a fly fisherman's hands expertly casting a fly rod, emphasizing the casting skill in traditional fly fishing.
However, for me, the novelty of Euro nymphing wore off relatively quickly. I liken it to using a riding mower for lawn care. Initially, there’s a certain appeal, and the efficiency is undeniable. Yet, this soon transitions into the same monotonous back-and-forth routine as using a push mower, just without the physical exertion. While some close friends and family members genuinely love their riding mowers and look forward to lawn maintenance, I personally find lawn mowing in any form – and Euro nymphing – to be somewhat… tedious.
A scenic view of a river with a fisherman in the distance, suggesting a peaceful and perhaps less competitive style of fly fishing.
That being said, if your angling satisfaction comes from maximizing catch rates and quantifying success by fish numbers, you’re certainly in good company these days. I sometimes wonder if the aggressive promotion of Euro nymphing by fishing companies inadvertently encourages anglers to treat every river outing as a competitive event. Do we truly need to constantly emphasize “more and bigger” in our pursuit of fishing enjoyment?
Or should we perhaps catch a few fish using this method, acknowledge its effectiveness, and then explore other facets of fly fishing, like seeking out those elusive drake hatches?
