Tag: Scott T3h

Scott T3h Two-Handed Fly Rods, in pictures

Introduced to them nearly eighteen months ago, I now find myself using Scott T3h two-handed fly rods almost exclusively – not to discount the groundbreaking, magnificent Scott Radian, but on my last fishing excursion I packed nothing but. I’m still learning how to employ the rods properly, but expect competency to be achieved long before I become food for worms. In the meantime I’m having mucho fun with them.

Scott T3h Fly Rods

The Quiver

Despite my present gross ineptitude point on the learning curve with these works of art, James Snyder of Hoodlum Photography asked to grab some pictures of the rods. I agreed to providing the product – he acquiesced there would be no action shots involved (he’d previously captured some already). Hence, said photos turned out very nice.

You can find the gallery here.

MG signing off (no need to ask why I own a fourteen foot nine weight, because I’m not talking…yet)

New toy immediately reveals it’s a very useful (and versatile) tool

ca·pit·u·late
verb,
– Cease to resist an opponent or an unwelcome demand; surrender.
Synonyms: surrender, give in, yield, submit, succumb

It has been described as evolution, but like most things preached in repetition the more I heard it the more aggressive I became with rejection efforts. At its core it is part of the genre of steelhead and salmon fishing, and at first (and second, and third) blush the idea of downsizing the product for alternative applications seemed like nothing more than marketing flight of fancy.

Finally, sick and tired of the bunk, I undertook the battle to shut the kook-aid drinkers up once and for all. The wallet was opened…

Two-handed tools

The Scott T3h 1106/4 with an Abel Switch reel

To handicap my effort, I used this preconceived blatant waste of my hard-earned dollars to indicator nymph a crowded, didymo-laden tailwater, the source of which had turned over and bled the flow St. Patrick’s Day green. The narrow passage, the thick brush, and the overhanging tree limbs would be my friends. Then, several unexpected things happened…

I chucked heavy rigs ridiculously long distances with next to zero effort. I changed direction mid-cast, with nary a single snag from behind. The rig never once tangled. Finally, I caught fish, albeit few, and yet walked back to the truck with a smile on my face usually reserved for trophy days.

Swinging fat streamers with sinking tips is a foregone conclusion, and while I don’t envision these spey/switch tactics being ultimately useful in pure sight-fishing situations, I do excogitate toting this rig for virtually every other.

Hence, I admit defeat. To those I fought, please accept my sincerest apologies.

MG signing off (because if you can’t beat ’em, just pick up a two-handed fly rod)