I heard—from a reliable source—that something like 70% of fly rods sold in the U.S. are 9′ 5-weights. That makes sense, since the 5-weight has become the do-it-all rod for most fly fishing, but especially for trout. A good 5-weight handles dries, nymphs, and some streamers with relative ease. It’s a jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none stick.
I own probably 20 different 5-weights, and I’ve reviewed probably two or three times that amount of 5-weights for various magazines over the years. They’re popular, they sell, and fly rod companies make tons of ’em.
But I’m not convinced the 5-weight is the most versatile rod an angler can buy. The 9′ 6-weight doesn’t get the due it deserves.
Plenty of Power
A good 6-weight has the backbone to fight the wind, turn over long leaders and/or rigs with bigger flies (think hopper-dropper or deep nymph rigs), and it’s stout enough to wrangle big trout, especially when they get into faster water.
A good 5-weight can pull that off, but sometimes it feels like you’re pushing that rod to its max (and you probably are). The new Sage R8 CORE and Orvis Helios are great rods, but in their 9′ 5-weight configurations, they can feel under-gunned if you need to step up to bigger flies, or tie into a surprisingly large fish.
With a 6-weight, tossing a size 10 Chubby Chernobyl with a size 8 Zirdle Bug underneath is, while not graceful, much more enjoyable than casting that rig on a 5-weight.
Casting into the wind is a constant struggle where I live in Wyoming, and that’s true for much of the Rocky Mountains, too. While there is a technique to casting in the wind, a 6-weight makes it a lot easier than a 5-weight.
If you’re the type to fish a lot of stillwater, a 6-weight is more effective at roll casting, which is helpful when you don’t have much backcasting room. If you fish from a drift boat, you’ll have an easier time picking up and re-casting long lengths of line or heavier rigs than you will with a 5-weight. Yes, there’s a lot of technique involved in those situations, and a competent caster can get by with any tool (within reason). A 6-weight just makes the job easier and more efficient.
Fine with Dries
The biggest concern anglers likely have with a 6-weight is its ability to handle delicate dry fly work. That concern is legitimate, and a 6-weight isn’t as soft or sensitive as a 5-weight. But in my experience, it’s a rare case where a 6-weight can’t perform well with dry flies.
During the early part of the blue-winged olive hatch on my local tailwater this year, I wasn’t ready for the fish to eat consistently off the top. The weather was unsettled, and it was still too cold (or so I thought). I had a heavy nymph rig on my 6-weight, but when the fish started rising late in the afternoon, I cut off the nymphs, tied on a longer leader, and put a few nice rainbows in the net with size 18 and 20 dry flies.
You lose some sensitivity and delicacy with a 6-weight, especially if you line your rods with half-weight heavy line. But the delicacy issue can be overcome with a long enough leader. Most 6-weights still have a soft enough tip to handle lighter tippets, as well.
All in the Line
The key to coaxing the best out of your 6-weight lies in what line you choose. Half-size heavy, or full-size heavy lines with steep tapers are popular, especially for throwing streamers or hopper-dropper rigs. And while those heavy lines do a good job of loading up a stiff 6-weight, I’ve found true-to-weight lines coax out the performance I think we intrinsically expect from a 6-weight. It’s a bit stiffer than a 5-weight, a bit stronger, maybe a touch heavier, but it still has the delicacy and touch to handle a wide variety of trout fishing. A 6-weight will never rival a 4-weight for dry fly fishing, just like a 4-weight will never throw a streamer as effortlessly as a 6-weight.
But a good 6-weight—one that’s built to retain feel and delicacy, not just to throw meat and giant foam bugs—is a better jack-of-all-trades rod than a 5-weight.
Good article, interesting thoughts.
I’m a firm believer that a lot of fly anglers don’t use enough rod…as though there’s some sort of honor to chucking a fly too big, or catching a fish that overpowers the rod and extends the fight. I don’t know why this is, but it’s a thing.