Flies I’ve Been Fishing this Fall
Fall fly fishing has a way of keeping you humble. The weather swings, the fish change moods overnight, and whatever worked last week suddenly doesn’t matter.
This season was no different. I spent most of my time on the DuPage River, trying to make sense of the conditions and figure out what the smallmouth actually wanted. Here’s a breakdown of what I saw, what I tried, and the flies that ended up producing.
Fall Fishing Conditions
This fall has been all over the place for me. One day it feels like October with temps in the 40s and 50s, burnt orange trees coloring the shorelines. Then out of nowhere we get a random warm-up that touches the 60s or even close to 70. I’ve had a couple bright sunny days that felt almost too nice, followed immediately by two inches of snow. Predicting anything has been a joke.
On top of that, the government shutdown messed with the USGS gauges, so water levels have been a little bit of a guessing game. Luckily, this hasn’t been an issue though. I’ve shown up to the river with fishable water levels each time I’ve gone out. But still, there’s that little bit of uncertainty before jumping into the car.
I’ve been focusing on the DuPage River the past few times I’ve been out. The Main Stem of the DuPage is known for bigger smallmouth, but it can be streaky. Some days the fish are active, others they seem to be taking naps or hanging deep in their haunches watching football. But this fall I’ve been searching for that one big bite, so I’ve expected the slow times.
Water temperatures have been in the low 50’s for the most part. I tried to make an effort to take more readings than usual with the random fluctuations in weather. To my surprise, even a couple days of near 70 degree air temps only bumped up the water by 2-3 degrees. Lesson learned- the water temps are just as hard to predict as the weather!
Fall Fly Fishing Techniques
This fall I tried to simplify things and fish the extremes to start my days. Either I went low and slow, or I tried to trigger reaction bites with baitfish patterns. I wanted to get a feel for what the smallmouth were actually responding to, and more often than not I found myself settling into dead drifting. When the water temps start sliding downward, that slow, almost lazy presentation just seems to make more sense.
Most of the fish have shifted into deeper water as they get ready for winter, so I focused on anything around 3 feet or deeper. Those shallow spring and summer flats felt empty. I did spook a couple big fish in skinny water, which made my stomach drop, but overall the deeper pools were where I spent most of my time.
I also tried to get better at fishing under a bobber. It feels strange to nymph for smallmouth, but I wanted that slow and natural presentation while keeping the fly at a consistent depth and out of the weeds. It worked here and there, but not as well as I hoped. The fish just weren’t in the mood for something that static. They wanted a little movement, a little life.
Learning from a Spin Angler
One cool thing this fall was getting to fish with a buddy who spin fishes and knew the water well. Watching how he worked the river was eye opening. He could cover so much water, way more than I could with a fly rod. I did my best to match his approach.
If he was getting bites on a swimbait, I’d tie on a streamer with a similar size and profile. If he was bouncing a Ned Rig, I’d let my fly crawl the bottom. If he got a bite in a certain type of water, I’d focus my attention there. Different gear and methods, but there was a ton to learn from how he read water and moved through it.
The crossover between fly fishing and conventional fishing became more and more clear as the day progressed. We were both trying to do the same thing, just doing it in very different ways. For every 1 of my casts, he could get 3 or 4 in. When I needed to throw on a polyleader, I found a comfy spot on the shoreline for about 5 minutes to make the change but when he needed something deeper, he tied on a heavier jig head that took 5 seconds. The amount of water he could cover with spin gear was exponentially larger than what I could do with a fly.
Despite those differences in efficiency, the similarities in reading water, trying to understand fish behavior, and searching for a big bite were shared. We might have been doing it differently, but we were doing the same thing- just fishin.
Fall Flies
My whole fly strategy this fall basically came down to two things: Wooly Buggers on the bottom and baitfish patterns that I could strip or swing. Nothing complicated. Just picking a lane and sticking to it. I’d switch up the sizes and colors every now and then, sticking with what gave me the most confidence.
No surprise here, but the Wooly Bugger was the clear winner. Dead drifting them through slow, three to four foot water was the move. I really thought the smallmouth would be more focused on baitfish with winter coming, but they kept proving me wrong. The slower stuff was what they actually wanted to eat. Olive and black were my main colors, and olive definitely carried the load.
For the baitfish side of things, I stayed simple too. White and black patterns, mostly things I could swing or give some short strips. They weren’t nearly as productive as the Buggers, but they still had their moments. A black Gamechanger ended up landing my biggest fish of the fall. Every season seems to have that one wild card fly that steals a little bit of the spotlight.
Overall, this fall felt like a reminder that smallmouth don’t always follow the script. Even when I expected them to be chasing, they still wanted something slow and near the bottom most days. Good lesson to stick in the back pocket for next year.
Lessons Learned This Fall
Fishing Is Unpredictable
Well duh, right? This wouldn’t be fun if we knew exactly what the fish were doing all of the time!
If this fall taught me anything, it’s that fish don’t care about your expectations. Everything I knew about fall smallmouth behavior had me convinced they’d be aggressively chasing down baitfish and loading up before winter. Instead, they wanted the slow stuff. It was a good reminder that no matter how much you think you understand a season, the river gets the final say. All the research and Googling of information is undoubtedly helpful and can point us in the right directions, but it’s not always the answer. The only real plan is to show up, read the conditions, and be ready to change tactics on the fly (pun intended).
Understanding Types of Water
Another big lesson was paying closer attention to why fish are in certain spots. It sounds simple, but it changes everything once it clicks.
If fish are up shallow, they’re usually there to eat. If they’re in classic ambush spots, they’ll eat a well presented fly but probably aren’t going to sprint ten feet for it. And if they’re parked in deeper water, five feet or more, they’re probably resting. Those fish won’t move for anything. Your only shot at those is basically dropping the fly on their head.
Understanding what each zone means for fish behavior is something I’m carrying forward, because it helps you make better decisions on where to focus and how to present your fly.
If I see I juicy piece of water, I’m gonna remind myself to ask “Why would a fish be here?” before deciding on what to throw or to even fish it. That simple question will go a long, long way. I’ve known this tactic, but this fall was an especially good reminder of how important is to constantly ask yourself that question.
Fish the Extremes, Find the Middle
This fall reminded me that the best way to figure out what fish want is to fish the extremes first. Go really aggressive with baitfish patterns, then go super slow with dead drifts. Those two ends of the spectrum can tell you a lot.
For me, fast baitfish retrieves weren’t getting it done, and neither were Wooly Buggers under a bobber. But once I sped up my Bugger presentation, everything clicked. A little strip here and there as the fly drifted was all it took.
That won’t always be the answer, but the process of starting wide and narrowing in is something I’ll keep doing no matter the season or species. It’s just a reliable way to let the fish tell you what kind of mood they’re in.
Conclusion
Fall on the DuPage didn’t play out the way I expected, but that’s kind of the fun of it.
Some days felt dialed in and others felt like I was starting from scratch, but every outing taught me something new about the fish and the river. Slowing down, paying attention to where fish actually want to be, and staying flexible ended up being the real keys. I’ll take those lessons into winter and next fall, and honestly, that’s why I love fishing. There’s always something new to figure out.