The Drift: Fishing Too Fast

I’ve never been one for New Year’s resolutions, because I feel like I shouldn’t need to wait until the new year to make changes or set goals. Over the past month, though, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on how fishing went in 2025, and I’ve come to one conclusion: I fish way too fast.

I’ve always been impatient, which is why fly fishing in rivers suits me so well. When one hole is too frustrating, or a particular fish refuses my flies constantly, I can just move on and find something else. That’s probably why I love floating rivers so much. Constantly being on the move, casting to new water, ensuring that each drift is great because you only have a few chances at each run—it’s fun and engaging.

That attitude has permeated my walk-and-wade fishing too much, though, and to my detriment. Here’s an example: a few weeks ago, on a tailwater that’s known for large trout, I was working the back end of a run where I’ve hooked and landed multiple 22-inch rainbow trout.

I fished the run hard, focusing on a drift where my flies tumbled off a slight shelf and into the slower water close to the far bank. I hung up on the bottom every few casts, so I knew I was deep enough. My rig of an egg and midge emerger felt perfect for a late December day.

I spent maybe 10 or 15 minutes working that run, and ended with nothing to show for it. I decided to walk back to shore to thaw out my feet and switch flies, and my buddy moved in to fish while I decided my next plan of attack.

On his second drift through the run, he hooked and landed a nice brown trout. Not to be outdone, I quickly finished rigging, claimed back my spot, and started drifting my flies again. My buddy moved upstream, where he caught another brown about five minutes later.

I finally landed a 10-inch whitefish that ate my zebra midge on a small swing, but I didn’t stick a trout the rest of the day. My buddy had caught both his fish in water I’d already covered, with a rig almost exactly like mine. The difference?

He was letting his flies drift downstream and swing just a bit before making his next cast. Or, in other words, he was fishing the entire drift effectively. I got so caught up in my next cast, in placing my flies just so on the seam, that I skipped part of the drift entirely.

It’s not surprising to anyone who knows me that I’m not the most patient angler, but it’s frustrating because I didn’t used to be this way. I used to have more energy to work the water, and took it personally when fish didn’t cooperate. Now, I’m not sure what’s changed, but I know for 2026, I better slow down and fish hard.

Otherwise, I’ll end up watching my buddies catch all the fish—again.

Spencer Durrant
Spencer Durrant
Spencer Durrant has worked in fly fishing media for over a decade. He's had bylines in Field & Stream, Gray's Sporting Journal, MidCurrent, Hatch Magazine, and numerous other publications. He's also the host of the weekly podcast Untangled: Fly Fishing for Everyone. Spencer lives in Wyoming with his wife and two papillons.
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