Appalachian Tightlining

Appalachian Tightlining Adventures in tightline fly fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains and the Southern Appalachians.

I was robbed by a bear!! Friday afternoon I hiked around 7 miles into the campsite I was going to call mine for a weeken...
10/16/2025

I was robbed by a bear!! Friday afternoon I hiked around 7 miles into the campsite I was going to call mine for a weekend of fishing and exploring. I made it to camp and was immediately disappointed to see trash around the fire pit with meal worms containers for fishing. Keep in mind the National Park is artificial lures and flies, single hook only.

I also saw piles of bear s**t throughout the campsite. It was 6:15 and sunlight had already faded from the valley with dusk taking over. Intending to pick up the trash I turned to see a young bear on the picnic table in this particular site. A rare find in the backcountry of the Smokies. Immediately I was excited to see a bear disappointed to know I wasn’t staying at this campsite tonight. I got a few photos and yelled at him but he just looked at me, holding his ground in the campsite. Ok, I’ll come back tomorrow and pick up the trash and move down to the next campsite downstream.

The reservation website said this new site was supposed to have 6 people but no one was around. I set up , a few yards from the stream side and went down to the water to filter some water when my feet slipped and I was flying into the air landing on a rock on my back. Immediately the air was knocked from my lungs and I was withering in agony on the side of the stream , soaking wet, making some gutteral noise. It took me a few minutes to regain my breath and my back was knotting up at the impact just below my right shoulder blade but I was ok with some medication of Arnica and IB Profrin. My wounded pride would sit on the back of my mind as I quickly started shivering from the cold wet clothing and changed into my wool long underwear, puffer vest, and wool beanie.

I went to sleep in my hammock, pride slightly wounded, back aching but still feeling good about the day of fishing tomorrow. Around 4:30 am I woke to a tearing sound outside. The moon had already disappeared behind the mountains and trees and it was pitch black. I struggled to find my headlamp and looked out. A young bear, maybe the same I had seen in the other campsite had my foam sit pad in its mouth. I yelled and it dropped it, stared at me, I yelled again and it ran off. Picking up the foam pad I hung it with my food and went back to bed.

The next morning I got up went to fix my oatmeal. There’s my coffee mug. Where is my campstove and pot? I pack them together in a Toaks Orange bag and had made dinner the night before. Oh no!! It dawned on me the bear took it. Thinking he couldn’t have gone far with it when he realized it wasn’t food I searched the parimeter of the campsite into the doghobble and Rhodo and after an hour of searching I gave up. He either dropped it in the river and it floated off or he took it beyond my search area. I had enough trail mix and bars to get me through Sunday so I let it be and started fishing, starting right at camp.

Catching my 1st fish, I looked to my right and there was the bear again. He circled around me and crossed a log across the stream and drank some water, watching me the whole time. He crossed back over to camp and I yelled at him again and he ran off. Trying to decide what to do, I finally decided to hang my backpack with everything but the set up hammock and set off upstream fishing.

I caught a few fish including one good sized brown and losing another good sized brown when he got downstream of me and shook the hook. I explored some more, picking up a few more fish along the way, deciding I would keep a few after lunch for dinner. All of these I had been releasing back. In the National Park you can keep up to five a day over 7 inches. 7 inches may seem small but most of our fish average 6-12 inches with some larger. Brown trout can reach in excess of 20 inches but I always recommend letting those go. They are our breeders and really the best tasting trout are between 7 and 12 inches anyway.

Around noon I headed to my original campsite where two hikers were already starting to pick up the trash. I told them I’d take some but they happily said, no, they were day hiking and were happy to take the trash. I told them about the bear at the site the night before and we talked of the disappointment of others who would leave trash behind . They continued on, a long way ahead in their day with a 1200 ft climb not far ahead.

I headed back to my campsite and found my hammock undisturbed , wondering if I should move when I heard movement behind me. The bear was standing 6 ft from me and I yelled at it again. It stared. I banged sticks together and when I threw a rock to its right, it stepped forward, swiping a paw. At that point I pulled out my bear spray and yelled again, stepping forward and this time he sprinted off. I hadn’t discharged my bear spray yet but it was at this point I decided to pack up and move again. This bear was becoming entirely to interested in me, my hands smelling like fish now, that I decided this spot could be his.

I saw one more bear on my was down to my next campsite . This one running off as I hiked downstream. I met a group of guys camping at the newest campsite and told them of the bear and my stolen stove. They offered up to make me some hot water for my Chili Mac and the rest of the weekend was uneventful, a fun story to tell upon getting home. My back is still a little sore from the fall but otherwise it’s back to the work week and the grind of regular life.

Sometimes we have to roll with the punches and in the end it pays off. For me, this meant a good sized brown trout and a...
09/15/2025

Sometimes we have to roll with the punches and in the end it pays off. For me, this meant a good sized brown trout and a grand slam.

This weekend I had planned an overnight backpacking trip in a wilderness close to the house. 5 miles in, quality trout waters, 5 miles out the next day. Those plans changed when I realized my Garmin Inreach that hadn’t communicated at all the weekend before in the GSMNP had an issue after 2 days and hours of resetting, deleting files, etc.

Saturday morning I ran to Knoxville REI and they were kind enough to refund my money but said, we don’t have that model. Pigeon Forge is the closest. Great, Rod Run is happening and this takes me two hours plus from the wilderness I had planned to backpack into. Being a solo trip and my wife and I being accustomed to communicating while I’m in the backcountry I ran to Pigeon Forge, all the while new overnight spots filing through my mind.

In Pigeon Forge, I grabbed the new Garmin, set it and sent a message. Success. Where to go. Over Newfound Gap. Why not? Oh yeah, it just reopened. Surprisingly the drive through Pigeon Forge and over the Gap was at least speed limit friendly and Pigeon Forge while busy, maybe took 15 minutes longer to drive through then any other weekend .

I finally decide on a campsite in the park. 7 miles in but it’s only 1:30pm. I got this. Then I realized my phone that was plugged in and showed it was charging, was losing battery. Stopped by a Ace Hardware in Cherokee, new cord and charger. Back to business.

Make it to the trailhead and load up. There’s a sign. Trail closed for aggressive bears. Fugg me. It’s now 3pm and I had enough service to call the backcountry office who hasn’t heard from the rangers yet. A hiker walked up and said they closed the trail, a bear charged a runner about an hour ago.

About to change my plans again the rangers showed up and I talked with them a bit. After hearing I had a reservation they looked me over and said, I see you have bear spray. Sure do, always, never had to use it but it’s always on my hip. Ok, the bear is up this trail about 2 miles but if you take this alternative route that adds a few miles and about 1200 ft of elevation gain more, we’ll let you go. Deal.

3:45 pm and I have 9 miles to hike with a steep gain of 1,200 ft in a 1.5 mile section of it.

7:50pm. Made it to my campsite with just enough time to set up my hammock before dark.

The next morning is all in the pictures. I lost one good sized brown when he spit the hook. It was the 3rd cast of the morning. I kept hoping. An hour later, I hooked into another and landed her. The rest of the morning it was browns and a few rainbows and by 12:30 I knew I needed to pack up, hike out and drive the 2 hours home. One more spot though…a high elevation creek I was passing anyway and added a few brook trout to an already stellar weekend.

Something about barbell eyes. Is is a sculpin, a crayfish or some other aquatic species. We’ll let the fish decide.
09/07/2025

Something about barbell eyes. Is is a sculpin, a crayfish or some other aquatic species. We’ll let the fish decide.

The mystery and allure of the Brook Trout is chasing the patterns of stars and galaxies upon their bodies, the map of th...
08/05/2025

The mystery and allure of the Brook Trout is chasing the patterns of stars and galaxies upon their bodies, the map of the labyrinth in their vermiculations upon thier back, the bright reds tipped with black and white upon thier fins waving like thier own proud flags. To think in a span of 50-100 years we almost lost these native Southern Appalachian fish to deforestation, pollution, and through the introduction of invasive species still boggles my mind in the fact these fish have been here since the last ice age. To think we have no affect on nature is naive but thanks to the few that sought to preserve, we can still catch these fish and more importantly know their populations have a future.

The Yallarhammer. A fly from the myth and legends of the Southern Appalachian fly fishing lore. While we can no longer t...
06/13/2025

The Yallarhammer. A fly from the myth and legends of the Southern Appalachian fly fishing lore. While we can no longer tie this fly from the traditional feathers of the Northern Flicker woodpecker, protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. Dyed Starling(used here), quail, or dove work as excellent substitutes. The trick is to soak the primary wing feathers in water and a healthy dollop of hair conditioner overnight then strip the shorter “biots” starting from the tip towards the butt of the feather to get a thin membrane connecting the biots to Palmer over a body of peacock herl. Many variations of this fly exist but this seems to be as close to the original as I can find. This fly is traditionally fished like a wet fly and I have had good luck with it in that variant or weighted nymph.
Recipe: size 10 stonefly hook
Tail: Golden Pheasant
Body: Peacock Herl
Wing: palmered stripped or split biots of Starling, Dove or quail

“When I went south into the mountains I was seeking a Back of Beyond. This for more reasons than one. With an inborn tas...
05/27/2025

“When I went south into the mountains I was seeking a Back of Beyond. This for more reasons than one. With an inborn taste for the wild and romantic, I yearned for a strange land and a people that had the charm of originality. Again, I had a passion for early American history; and, in Far Appalachia, it seemed that I might realize the past in the present, seeing with my own eyes what life must have been to my pioneer ancestors of a century or two ago. Besides, I wanted to enjoy a free life in the open air, the thrill of exploring new ground, the joys of the chase, and the man's game of matching my woodcraft against the force of nature, with no help from servants or hired guides.
So, casting about for a biding place that would fill such needs, I picked out the upper settlement of Hazel Creek, far up under the lee of those Smoky Mountains that I had learned so little about. On the edge of this settlement, scant two miles from the post office of Medlin, there was a copper mine, long disused on account of litigation, and I got permission to occupy one of its abandoned cabins.”

An Except from Horace Kephart’s “Our Southern Highlanders”

I hate to say I tried to find this cabin site and the nearby mines but after being tangled in a Rhoddodendron Hell for nearly 2 hours without much sign of forward progress I claimed defeat this time. Besides I had my fly rods in hand and there were flowing creeks nearby that called my attention.

I was staying at a nearby campsite close to the ruins of the town of Medlin for 4 days. Hazel Creek was high and swollen making wading a particular gorge section near impossible so I had to pick and choose my spots all the way to the crossing at Cold Spring Branch. Where I could fish though the fish were willing. Lots of rainbows and one small brown.

A thunderstorm lured me to sleep that first night. The booms and quickening patters of rain on the tarp and rhythmic booms with the whispers of the souls of the creek singing their sweet and tragic songs took me to the world of dreams till just after 7 am the next morning.

Bone valley was an easy walk with multiple crossings of the creek all the way to Hall Cabin and the cemetery up the hill. The nearby ruins of a larger home intrigued me as its footprint seemed large with a massive double room fire place and chimney stood at its center.

Bone Valley Creek released some of its colorful little inhabitants of rainbows and I searched further and deeper into Hazels tributaries and found the best of treats. Native Southern Appalachian Brook trout, Specks , brookies.

Friday morning came before I was ready but I was also looking forward to the day. My father in law and nephew were headed over for the day to explore and fish the lower portions of Hazel Creek with me.

At 11 years old my nephew is developing into a fisherman himself catching a massive 23” rainbow in Gatlinburg this past winter. We’ve gently educated him on the difference between stocked and wild fish without taking away from the accomplishments of landing such a beast .

Suspecting a heavily fished section of creek along with a 12 degree drop in temperature from the days before my nephew only landed a small creek chub and my father in law came up with none. We explored the area from the Calhoun House to the ruins of the lumber kiln.

The funniest part of the day when my nephew came runnng from covering a cat hole he had done his business in to say he heard something growling. Just then a woodpecker thrummed high on a nearby tree and he said, ”there it is again”.

It’s not always about the fish. The long hikes, pushing ones self to see whats on the other side of that ridge, searchin...
05/07/2025

It’s not always about the fish. The long hikes, pushing ones self to see whats on the other side of that ridge, searching out wild flowers and finding the rare lady slipper blooming and discovering new creeks to fish and explore are just as soul regenerative as a long day in a river for me.
I was a little nervous about the hike into the back beyond of the GSMNP though. On my last backpacking trip my thighs cramped and were seizing as I made the final climb out and todays solo hike n fish was 3 times that distance with 2 and half times the climbing .
I made it out though. 17 miles, 2 creeks fished and a descent sized rainbow along with many brook trout to make the day grander then it had already been.

Troutsmiths Brookie LT 3 wt E Glass Build. Bamboo Reel Seats down locking ring Reelseat complete with etched bear, AJ Pa...
03/19/2025

Troutsmiths Brookie LT 3 wt E Glass Build. Bamboo Reel Seats down locking ring Reelseat complete with etched bear, AJ Pagley, Spilt Cane and Agate(instagram) agate stripping guide, Brand Guides, silk wraps and rattan grip by me( J. Bear Hedrick, with 4 coats of Shellac followed by 6 thin coats of Flexcoat Lite Epoxy. Ready for chasing Southern Appalachian Brook Trout this weekend.

Recently I was contacted by someone who came here to fish the National Park this winter who got skunked. They asked if ...
03/03/2025

Recently I was contacted by someone who came here to fish the National Park this winter who got skunked. They asked if they are fish in the national park because the next day they fished stocked waters and did significantly better. Here’s my answer.

Consider we’ve had some really cold days this winter including several weeks of icing events of the park streams. At these water temps cold blooded trout will slow thier metabolism and significantly reduce activity. A warming trend of 4-6 F of the water could cause a change in wild trout causing them to feed better even if water temps are still below thier 50-62F preferred water temperatures .

Likewise a cooling trend of the water can cause a decrease in feeding activity . Comparing how a wild trout feeds to a stocked trout will most likely frustrate you. Regardless of how my day of fishing was, a day in the mountains on mountain streams offers a relief from civilization and our busy lives and I try to savor every minute of that space.

Wild trout and stocked trout often show different feeding behaviors in cold water, with wild trout appearing to reduce their feeding activity more significantly than stocked trout. This difference stems from several factors:

For wild trout:
- They've evolved to conserve energy during winter when food is naturally scarce
- Their metabolism slows dramatically in cold water, reducing their caloric needs
- They're adapted to surviving seasonal cycles by building fat reserves in fall and minimizing activity in winter
- They're more selective about feeding opportunities, only expending energy when the reward is worthwhile

For stocked trout:
- They're typically raised in hatcheries with consistent feeding schedules regardless of season
- Many are conditioned to artificial food and less reliant on natural feeding instincts
- They haven't developed the same seasonal adaptations as wild fish
- They're often stocked shortly before fishing seasons and haven't adapted to the local environment

Wild trout don't completely stop feeding in winter - they become much more selective and opportunistic. They'll still feed during prime conditions (slightly warmer days, specific hatches) but are much more conservative with their energy expenditure compared to stocked fish that may continue their hatchery-conditioned feeding behaviors.

A whole new world. Are you getting out this winter? Feel you don’t have the right shoes? I use my summer wet wading setu...
01/27/2025

A whole new world. Are you getting out this winter? Feel you don’t have the right shoes? I use my summer wet wading setup with thick wool socks and dress in merino wool base layers. Right now that is the Korkers Stealth Sneakers or Astral Merge and I keep a set of Microspikes in the pack for icy and slippery conditions.

The neoprene wet wading sock works like a wetsuit , trapping water between it and your skin and warming it up. In some of my photographs here I am standing in the water yet my feet were warm once I got out and started hiking again. Don’t let winter keep you inside. Get out and enjoy it and build that endurance for the spring hiking into the backcountry for brook trout.

Glass is moving along. Ray Lee of Bamboo Reel Seats made me another bear etched ring and cap Down locking reel seat and ...
01/18/2025

Glass is moving along. Ray Lee of Bamboo Reel Seats made me another bear etched ring and cap Down locking reel seat and I believe I have nailed how I am moving forward with the Brook trout inspired rod wraps. I was struggling with the white tips of the fins when I discovered ‘s YouTube tutorial on using India Ink to color the thread before wrapping and it has worked brilliantly. Shown with 1 coat of shellac with multiple more coming to lock in the colors of the silk. I may still let the guide wraps turn transparent colors while keeping the ferrule and decorative wraps opaque above the rattan grip that I am still working. Further testing on that.

Admittedly I have become crayfish obsessed lately and have been a fun tie on the vise. Even in the streams of our Great ...
12/30/2024

Admittedly I have become crayfish obsessed lately and have been a fun tie on the vise. Even in the streams of our Great Smoky Mountains and surrounding southern Appalachian Mountains crayfish are abundant even with a few blue varieties. The 4th photo in this set is a crayfish I caught in the Little River while snorkeling a few summers ago. Interestingly crayfish swim backwards as this one was when I caught him. The last photo is a rainbow caught on the Tellico this past weekend on a Crayfish fly.

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