Chasing River Smallies Before The Storm

Fishing As Hurricane Debby Moves Northeast

The sun had just begun to rise just over the Blue Ridge Mountains, casting a golden hue across the Shenandoah River. No surprise arriving at the put in there was no one else around given the reports of the storm moving its way north that began as a Hurricane off the coast of Florida and had been working its way north the previous days. We made quick work of it and pushed off in our kayaks quietly before resting our paddles on our laps and determined our directional intent drifting into the river’s current.

The river, like a liquid ribbon winding through Virginia’s heart, was alive with the sounds of summer—chirping, the continual calls of a birds, and the soothing murmur of the water as it navigated its pathway through riffles and around bends.

With its headwaters, high in the Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountain ranges, the Shenandoah River consists of two major branches commonly referred to as the North Fork and the South Fork. Both forks generally flow northeast until merging just north of Front Royal, Virginia, to create the Main Stem of the river.

The River’s Journey

As we began paddling, it wasn’t long before we recognized the top water activity closer to shore lines opposite seams as we began to address the river’s characteristics. The Shenandoah, known for its clear, cool waters, was a mixture this day of calm stretches and playful rapids. It was almost as if the river was smiling back at you as you journeyed with her current. The riverbanks were lined with trees, their roots digging deep into the sandy soil, while overhanging branches created shaded alcoves—perfect spots for bass during the summer months.

The first stretch of the journey was peaceful enough. The water here was deeper than most areas of the Shenandoah which was why given the long periods of low water levels this summer and slow-moving flow this area was selected for the trip. A perfect cooler morning coming off recent highs in the mid nineties was a welcome change and clearer skies seemingly created reflection of the sky and trees from above.

We glided over submerged repeated broken logs and rocks with the kayak slicing through the water with ease. I was hoping to get to this section in short order as my fishing partner for the day had never fished this section of the river before and kept explained how the area we wanted to get to was prime territory for Smallies this time of year, especially in the early to mid morning when the fish were most active. I could feel the reservations though as I could tell my fishing partner wanted to fish a bit more in areas as we working our way to the target area beyond the islands before us.

Encountering the First Riffles

Soon, the river began to narrow and quicken. The sound of the water changed, growing louder as we approached the first riffles. Locating the right entry and paddling a bit harder, steering the kayak towards center right of the river. The riffles were shallow and fast, with the riverbed visible just below the surface—an intricate mosaic of pebbles and stones. Beautiful reflections almost as if looking through a camera lens.

As we navigated through, the kayak bumped and skipped and bumped some more over the rocks. My fishing partners excitement was palpable; his grip visibly tightened on the paddle as the water splashed against the sides of his kayak. I smiled, knowing that this was one of the most thrilling parts of any river fishing journey. These riffles, though small, required skill to navigate without getting stuck or capsizing. I myself have dumped more than once in the forty years fishing this stem of the Shenandoah but typically this time of year the river is down enough to where its not the norm. We both made it through with ease, his confidence seemingly growing with each stroke.

A Quiet Bend and a Big Catch

After the riffles, the river widened again and curved gently to the left. This part of the Shenandoah is rather quieter, with fewer ripples and but more overhanging trees. I signaled to him at this point to stop paddling—we had reached one of my favorite fishing spots on the entire river. The water here was cool and shaded, with a deep undercut bank where the bass loved to hide. I explained to him that this section in the late Fall is where he must return for the “bigs”. This area has produced dozens of citation size Smallies for anglers as the summer transitions to Fall but we were in early August which is a bit early for them typically to have been moving up to deeper areas or pools.

We quickly positioned kayaks turning up river. I of course roll out of mine and tether her to begin fishing while he moved slightly further to the right in his twelve foot Native kayak. He quickly reached for one of his rods with his Z-man Chatterbait tied on and got to work. He was working the right side so I took to breaking down the center river and river left and moving with my kayaks against the river pulling her back to the ripples and stowing her. I grew up wade fishing this river with my brothers and have always preferred to fish tethered to the kayak in the Shenandoah.

Smallies began to crash forage within ten yards of the shoreline so that is where I determined to start with some finesse fishing. The Cicada run had finished weeks prior at last on this stem of the river which is further north than the other parts of the Shenandoah but years of fishing her I knew the Smallies never can lay off of smaller profile hellgrammites and such.

On this day however, I broke out some rather new finesse baits that I had been throwing for the first time this season and was locked and loaded using my two Shimano rods paired up with P-Line Topwater 10# and P-Line Tactical Fluoro 8# . I prefer to use the Topwater in finesse situations during the summer months when I want the bait to remain bouyant in the water column or we are having very low water levels so as to just keep the bait up a bit or slow rate the fall if weighted. Using the Topwater for jerkbaits has proven the most effective line when using jerkbaits both hard and fluke style as well.

I think my fishing partner was surprised by the fact I only brought two rods compared to his six or seven and by the limited gear almost minimalist I brought on this float. I prefer to keep the weight down and frankly the more you fish a river the more you come to understand more and more about what you will actually need. Besides on this day packing necessities would come to be far more important than bringing extra rods and baits taking up space and adding weight let alone the risk factor of losing it in the river to begin with when you consider the pending weather approaching.

The Shenandoah represents in the purest sense a true meandering river. The river as it winds through the Virginia countryside will change really depending upon the water levels like most but you can be certain that Smallies can be found more times than not at both the head and the tail of any pool or deeper areas adjacent to seems or main channels. The deeper pool I located years ago on the river in this section was exactly where we were headed on this day.

The head and tail will often repeat itself throughout a section of a river and anglers can move from spot to spot along the float. Smallies typically avoid exerting the energy that it requires to remain isolated in a ripple or whitewater but often will set up close or near by to them garnering the benefit of additional oxygen generation.

Setting up with the ripple area to my back, I threw closer to the bank under the overhanging trees at a thirty degree angle and simply let her drift naturally with the current back towards the ripple line easily identified by exposed rock lines.

I learned long ago that finesse requires patience and the bait will in actuality appear more natural when we do as little as possible as anglers. On the third cast, and just a bit further out from bank than previous casts came the first tug of the day caught on a nose hooked Raid Fish Roller mimicking river minnow forage. Many anglers today are using these baits more and more with hover set ups and scoping but on this day like most in this section of the Shenandoah simple, finesse presentations are all that is required to garner strikes.

I let her take it under before raising the rod up and generating the set, and the fight was on. This Smallie leaped out of the water two times, its bronze body glistening in the early morning sunlight. A cheer came from my fishing partner as his own fight ensued as well. I watched his Smallies flip and flop atop the water line as I myself was reeling in my own. Doubles are always one of the things on any trip that create lasting memories. Mine didn’t feel big but she certainly fought like a big as she engulfed the bait on this go and there was no way she was coming off no matter how hard she fought.

This one was strong, pulling against the line at every turn and was determined to fight the the whole way back to me. Finally the fight in her was done and she was willing to succumb to the catch. She was a beauty—large, with a dark stripe running down its side. Shenandoah Smallies often appear to be of two strains at least to the naked eye with darker patterns in most but then those that have the splotch pattern with a light green coloration covering the fish.

After taking a short moment to admire the fish and turn to show each other the catches before releasing, I watched as it disappeared quickly reflecting off the pebble rock bottom and slick grass covered rocks. It was at this point I noticed a discoloration on the river bottom right near my feet. I bent down and placed my hand down to the river bottom which in this spot was a mere foot to find something I have not found in over a decade; an arrowhead. One more for the collection of bounty our rivers offer up from their past on our adventures.

This area would go on to produce over thirty Smallies between us ranging in size between ten to eighteen inches before we decided to move off in search of other areas. I caught quite a few on the Raid , Case Hellgrammite, and a Fish Arrow Flash J as well as Deps Sakamata Shad (2 inch). Both the later have similar effect in that both the Fish Arrow and the Sakamata have a split tail rather than a boot and this creates a more subtle action than the majority of swimbait style soft plastics on the market today.

Raid of Japan Fish Roller

A day that had started with a sense of tranquility was slowly changing. The river starting out was calm, its surface barely disturbed by the ripple of a fish breaking the water. As the morning progressed and moving through the glassy surface, the world seemed peaceful—birds calling from the trees, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, and the steady rhythm of our kayaks. The extreme heat of days prior was all passed and it was hard pressed to think this morning was an August morning.

But things were about to change…..

As the day wore on, subtle changes in the environment began to signal a shift. The breeze, once gentle, began to feel far cooler, carrying with it a hint of moisture. The sky behind us to the south darkened, clouds thickening and slowly blotting out the sunlight beset upon the river for most of the morning. We stopped to assess the situation. There was no doubt. The storm was coming— any typical summer storm here could easily turn a peaceful river into a roiling force of nature.

The Approach of the Storm Band

Fishing had picked up along the river as the journey continued and the quality got better. The darkening sky continued to press to our backs but appeared to be many miles away but we did begin to recognize difference in what was ahead as opposed to behind. We continued to fish and continued to catch over the course of another hour or so but then it became evident what was about to go down. You never know on the Shenandoah whether its going to be a quick thunder storm that will last thirty minutes or less or something stronger that will sit over the river for longer periods but it is always best to heed these developments.

We could feel the river beneath us begin to change. The transfer of power and energy from the river to paddle to our hands was becoming increasingly evident. We could feel our progression speed increase as if the river itself were lifting and carrying us now downriver completely on its own and without worry.

It was time to peel off and set a plan.

The first gusts of wind from behind us hit with surprising force, ruffling the water’s surface and pushing the kayaks slightly off course. We adjusted, paddling a bit harder, feeling the energy of the river continue to change. The once gentle current just hours before grew more insistent, pulling the kayaks downstream faster than before. The trees on the riverbanks swayed, their leaves rustling in the wind that was now howling through the narrow valleys. All the early morning sounds now were non existent. There were no birds any longer in sight or the sounds from the river bank.

Small raindrops began to fall— drops that splashed onto the kayak and the river, creating an ever-widening pattern of ripples. The time had arrived to throw on our jackets. At first, it was just a light shower, but within minutes, the rain intensified. We pulled, feeling the cool drops run down both face and hands, now gripping the paddle more tightly. Not going to lie. I love it when the rain first breaks the clouds and falls upon our rivers especially during the summer when it typically cools things off. Often the bite picks up in condition like these and brings out the bigger ones to feed.

This love can turn quickly though if the rain is followed by the summer humidity of course but not this day. The river was rising while the temperatures were falling. History signaled to me that upriver they were getting hammered by the storm and even potentially hours away but in situations like the this the river always signals to you what lies ahead.

The Storm Band Hits

As the storm front fully moved up river from the south, the river transformed. The wind whipped across the water’s surface, sending water crashing against the kayaks. The once clear and calm river was now beginning to churn, the rain hitting it so hard that it seemed to dance with each drop. Visibility dropped as the rain sheeted down, obscuring the far bank and making it difficult to see more than about ten yards across the river.

Navigating the river’s turns became more challenging as the storm raged. The current, now swollen with rainwater, surged with newfound strength, pulling the kayak towards the center of the river, where the water moved fastest. We felt the pull of the current, the drag of the water against the paddle, and the constant need to adjust and readjust course to avoid rocks, logs, and other obstacles that were becoming harder to see.

Adapting to the Conditions

With each bend in the river, we had to make quick decisions. The rain was unrelenting at times, soaking through layers of clothing, and the wind made paddling in a straight line nearly impossible. But there was something exhilarating about it too—the challenge of navigating in such quickly changing conditions, of feeling the power of nature so directly.

The riverbanks, once a blur of green, were now a dark, indistinct line. Water poured off the leaves, creating small waterfalls that fed into the river, further complicating the flow. In places, the river narrowed, and the water sped up, creating small rapids that tossed the kayak from side to side. We leaned into the turns, using the paddle to stabilize the kayak and keep it from capsizing or dumping as we call like to call it where I am from.

Finding Shelter

Eventually, we understood the blackened skies had finally caught us and we spotted a small area—a sheltered cut between island where the water was calmer, almost protected from the full force of the wind and rain by overhanging trees. With a few strong strokes, we guided the kayak up into the area and let it drift into the shallows. The roar of the storm was somewhat muted here, the wind less intense, and the rain, though still stronger, felt more manageable.

I staked both our kayaks. Something my partner admittedly had never seen done before. Its a product of kayak camping. Always bring with you tent stakes or longer stakes where you can stake your tether deep in ground or lodge between rocks for times like this or if you are sleeping overnight in your kayak on the river. Also if the rain is heavy consider pulling scuppers so kayak does not fill up with water.

We took a moment to breathe, to rest, and to observe the storm from this relative safety before deciding to start fishing again. I switched over to a custom jig from designer Adam White paired with a Jackall Cover Craw to have a bit more weight to cut through the wind as well as the rising river. The main river just a few yards away, was a stark contrast to the peace of back side of island. It took a few casts but before long we both once again were catching fish. In this situation recovering the Smallies was far more cumbersome than earlier in the morning as we were attempting to bring them back against the river to middle river. We both lost fish in this circumstance as well. Neither of us brought out a net from the kayaks stage in the island area. Lesson learned.

The sheltering area provided us opportunity to check cell phones for updates on what we were facing and it became apparent that this was the furthermost northern band of the remnants of Hurricane Debby stretching across three states at this time. This storm band was intense, but this was just a part of the living the Smallie Life experience—nature in all its unpredictable glory. The storm had picked up speed evidently and increased moving up from North Carolina arriving hours before anticipated.

The Calm After the Storm

After what felt like hours, the rain began to lighten, the wind slowed, and the clouds started to break apart, revealing patches of sky again. The river, though still swift, was beginning to calm as well, the waves subsiding, the churning waters settling into a more predictable flow.

We pushed back out into the river, feeling the strength of the current but knowing we had weathered the worst of it at least for the next few hours based on the trajectory of the radar. Our storm band had passed, leaving the river transformed, and we both had a newfound respect for the power of nature and the thrill of the journey.

As we continued downstream, the sun broke through the clouds late afternoon, casting a golden light over the river, making the world seem new again. We both smiled, paddling on, knowing that this experience would be one we would share for a long time to come.

The Final Stretch

As the sun began to shift west in the sky, we continued our journey. The river took us through more riffles and around tight bends where the current quickened and the water danced over rocks. Each turn opened up new water and a new discovery—a large eagle seemed to watch our movements almost guarding the river below, even a few red wing blacks and even a few whitetails had moved to the river bank.

The river is a living thing, full of surprises and secrets, and I knew that this day would be one we would remember for a long time. It was more than just a kayak fishing trip; it was a journey of learning and discovering the beauty of the natural world and a master class in Smallie behaviors.

The river had shown us its many faces that day—from the calm, reflective pools to the lively riffles and challenging turns. It was a journey we had taken together, one that left us with stories to tell for years to come.

The Shenandoah River had been a patient teacher, and in its waters, we learned more than just fishing —we had found a shared experience, a memory that would be as enduring as the river itself.

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