Docsflies - About Brian

Born in 1973, I grew-up in rural Pennsylvania. Following an experience (as explained below), I taught myself to fly cast beginning at the age of 14. I continued to learn the art of fly fishing by cutting my teeth on famous local waters such as the Letort, Yellow Breeches, Clark's Creek, Conodoguinet Creek and the Susquehanna River. I moved away from the area to attend the Pennsylvania State University and was one of the lucky few to attend a course called Angling taught by Vance McCullough (originally started in 1947 by George Harvey, The Dean

of American Fly Fishing). When not studying to become a Biologist, I perused the banks of Spring Creek, Spruce Creek or the Little Juniata. Mixing my interest in fly fishing with Biology, I aided graduate students with macroinvertebrate identifications and performed research involving the Environmental Protection Agency's Rapid Bioassessment Protocol and Hilsenhoff values for the assessment of stream quality. Summers between schooling and my senior year were spent collecting and identifying macroinvertebrates under the tutelage of professional entomologists. Two cumulative years were spent performing crop entomology with the United States Department of Agriculture and aquatic entomology with Pennsylvania's Department of Environmental Protection, Blackfly Division. Upon graduation, I entered the work force with a BS in Biology and an interest in Toxicology. I found work with a major pharmaceutical company where I'm currently a scientist. My fly fishing experience continues today and I can normally be found fishing the banks of the Little Lehigh (PA) or Sandy Hook (NJ) or preparing for a trip to Martha's Vineyard (MA), Chincoteague (VA) or the Salmon River (NY). My experience spans two decades, with trips throughout the US and most recently, Ireland. My success on the fly, although not limited by these, has included trout, bass, salmon and striped bass. Fly fishing has been and continues to be a great endeavor. One I wish to share.

Sincerely,

Brian Dougherty

Arccardo Refish Special - Artwork by Brian Dougherty

A Eureka Moment

Everyone experiences a eureka moment at some point in his or her life; mine began on Clarks Creek, a Pennsylvania stream, over twenty years ago. It was the realization then, as a teenager, that the ultra-light tackle in hand would never land the one of a dozen pristine trout rising before me. From that day forward I promised myself to learn the art of fly fishing.

To vivify the above, it had been an ordinary Spring day, no different then many I'd experienced in previous years. Although the sun was shining, only a few beams escaped the oak and pine canopy landing on the forest floor like luminaries. Clark's own arboreal elements were green, full and lush, supporting vegetative Rhododendron and water gin clear. Only an occasional "gulp" and concentric rings slow to dissipate disturbed the sereneness of the moment.

As a teenager, moments like this can be defining. Rod in hand, easily spotted trout, a beautiful day should all equal a full stringer, silent nods from passing fishermen and proud recognition from the parents upon return from fishing, in a word...success! However, this day, under these conditions, the mental imageries of a young teenager would fall to vacant minds. Only now, nearly two decades later, can I reflect and picture deceased fly fishermen, spirits silently looming over me, smirking and gesturing to one another as I repeatedly cast my Warden's Rooster Tail through the school of trout. Each cast followed by rejection. One might think this in itself would be enough, admit defeat and move on, but the resourcefulness at this age can be amazing. Lacking anything better to float than a small twig, I meticulously snaked a single hook through the offering and pitched it into the waters as a last attempt. Surprisingly, each time the little green shoot passed over the school a lone soldier broke rank to investigate. Although no fish ever sampled the uninviting morsel, I knew then it wouldn't have taken much more to convince those trout. Anyone's worst fly would've reversed the day's outcome. I never declared the day a failure. True, not one fish was caught, but what nearly all fly fishermen the world over can agree on is it isn't always the catching that captures the moment for us, many times it's the surroundings. This was a defining day, my beginning in fly fishing on the picturesque banks of Clarks Creek.

I would go on from this moment, learning to fly cast, then to fish, eventually catching bass and finally graduating to trout. The process was slow, but not from the lack of trying. At times, however small the gratification would be, I often contemplated if breaking a rod streamside would ease the pain of a horribly misguided tangle or an unsuccessful outing. In the end I always viewed the gratification too short-lived opting instead for a rock or angled tree to a rest upon. Six months passed before I brought my first fly rod trout to the net, but then again I was self-teaching and as a teenager lacked the funds to take classes or hire a guide, both of which I'd recommend to beginners. My introduction to fly fishing and my current journey has been enjoyable. If you're new to fly fishing, you'll soon learn it's more than a sport, it's a lifestyle, and for some, a religion!

Clarks Creek