Watching a friend not catch fish because he or she can’t cast well is a frustrating experience. It’s even more frustrating if you are that friend. As someone who had mediocre casting skills for many years, I really do know how this feels. I learned to cast on UK lakes and reservoirs, where an open-loop cast helped avoid nightmarish tangles when fishing three flies on long, skinny leaders. While fine for drift fishing from a boat, this approach was pretty lousy for most other types of fly fishing. Folks who learned to fly fish using indicator-nymphing rigs face much the same problem. I remember how incredibly frustrating it was trying to learn to cast with tighter loops and greater accuracy. My efforts frequently stalled because I was too stubborn, too intimidated, and occasionally too short-tempered. Sound familiar?
Numerous casting sessions with other fly fishers and a keen interest in neuroscience leads me to believe there is an easier and faster way to go from fly flopper to fly caster. This technique doesn’t usurp any of the conventional learning techniques or ways of casting, it simply alters the focus. Don’t worry, there’s no algebra, physics, or complex biological theories to grapple with.
Bad Memories
Once you get past the basic mechanics of casting, further progress is largely a function of developing so-called muscle memory. “Muscle memory” is the term used to describe the ability to perform a movement without conscious thought. At the biological level, it involves neurons in the brain working together in a highly coordinated fashion. Donald Hebb put it succinctly way back in 1949 when he coined the phrase: “neurons that fire together, wire together.” Muscle memory is achieved by doing a task repetitively until the appropriate neural wiring is locked in.
The problem with many fly fishers is they lock in casting-muscle memory long before they become truly proficient.
I did, and it haunted me for years. Things are usually manageable with trout-weight gear at short distances or where accuracy isn’t super important — flopping an indicator rig off the side of a drift boat, for example. But try to cast far or into a really tight spot, and the underlying problems quickly reveal themselves. Suddenly, everything goes to hell. One shudders to think how many fishing trips have been compromised or ruined by bad muscle memories.
Correcting this problem involves going back to basics and relearning how to cast, a process many attempt, but far too few complete. I suspect the main reason so many flounder is that we inadvertently concentrate on the wrong things, watching the line, worrying about clock faces, and wondering if our rod arm is in the right place. Trying to process all this information at the same time quickly overloads the brain’s sensory bandwidth.
Fly fishing is a very tactile sport. To cast far or accurately (or both), you really need to feel what is going on with the rod and the line. This is frequently mentioned in the numerous books and videos on fly casting, but most often, it is done through analogies. There’s a problem with this approach. Romeo may well have stated “It is the east, and Juliet is the sun,” but I have never been quite sure what Shakespeare meant by that. Most casting analogies are less poetic, but the problem of interpretation remains. For literary-challenged folks like me, learning the correct muscle memory needs to be far more direct.
Neural Interface
In 2010, DARPA (the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency) launched the Reliable Neural-Interface Technology (RE-NET) program. It was developed to “address the need for high-performance neural interfaces to control the dexterous functions made possible by DARPA’s advanced prosthetic limbs.” Less than five years later, there were emotionally intense videos of wounded vets and Boston bombing victims walking, running, and even dancing. It doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch to imagine a day when this technology will spin off into more widespread commercial applications for the fully able. Anyone care to guess when it will be possible to buy a device that instantly enables anyone to cast a fly rod perfectly?
In the meantime, why not take advantage of our own natural neural–fly rod interface: the peripheral nerves in our hands. Think about it. All of our muscular contractions are transferred to the rod via the hands. It doesn’t matter what part of the body you use, all casting forces have to go through the hands. If the cast feels right in your hand, it is right. If it feels wrong, it is wrong. It really is that simple. It just so happens that our brains have dedicated a lot of neurons to the hands, far more than to most other parts of the body. It seems logical that we should be paying close attention to the sensations in our hands. Research shows that retention of muscle memory can be impaired if another task interferes with the process. This is why I believe really close attention to the hand is so important. Absolute focus on changes in pressure across the palm, fingers, and thumb ensures optimal conditions for developing good muscle memory. Once you develop the right memory, the need to concentrate disappears, and casting becomes seemingly effortless — even when you are dropping a tiny dry below a sweeping willow or double-hauling a 10-weight at a massive surf striper. I’m sure the Buddhists have the perfect word for this. The best I can do is offer a two-step program.
1. Relax
Grasping the rod as if it is about to run off with your life savings is a surefire way to make casting more difficult. The harder you grip the rod, the less sensitive your hands are to the subtle forces of casting. I’d suggest you try backing off grip strength bit by bit. The ultimate goal is to find the softest grasp that provides rod stability throughout the casting stroke. You’ll find the rod will become a lot more communicative and responsive with a lighter grip. Another benefit is that a relaxed grip also allows you to cast for hours on end, without needing ibuprofen, physical therapy, or lashings of single malt.
2. Feel the Feeling
Obviously, to develop the correct memory, you first need to know how a good cast actually feels — a classic Catch-22 situation. Having worked with plenty of beginners, the fastest way I know to get that feeling is to make lots of short, side-hand casts in 10-minute sessions. By casting side hand, you can see the whole cast without having to twist your neck or body, which makes it easy to make adjustments without screwing up the cast. You can do this with whatever rod and line combination you like, but I’d suggest starting with your favorite 5-weight or 6-weight rod and line at this stage.
Pull 15 to 20 feet of line through the tip-top and tie on a 7-1/2-foot tapered leader topped with a little tag of yarn. With the rod held almost parallel to the ground, make some simple casting strokes. If the fly ticks the ground, angle the rod up a bit. With such a short length of line, the cast doesn’t require much more than small movements of the forearm and wrist. Keep modifying your casts until you get loops that are narrow on both the front and back casts. By all means, shorten the amount of line outside the tip if this helps.
Once you get good loops, close your eyes and concentrate only on the feelings in your hand. Ignore everything else. Let me repeat that: ignore everything else.
Why close your eyes? Humans are very vision-centric. Visual inputs can easily overwhelm your other senses, as demonstrated by the bizarre McGurk Effect, where the perception of sound is changed by sight, or by the disturbing rubber hand illusion in which the brain sees a fake arm as real. By closing your eyes, your brain doesn’t get distracted by sight and can develop the most efficient neural wiring.
The first few times you try this, it’ll probably feel weird, and you’ll likely lose the cast. Don’t worry, this is completely normal. Simply open your eyes and cast until the loops are good again. I strongly suggest you limit your practice sessions to no more than two 10-minute sessions per day. Twenty minutes of continuous casting can be quite tiring. You won’t be doing yourself any favors if your brain starts rewiring to cast with a fatigued hand.
A recent paper in Current Biology shows that muscle memory can be learned significantly faster if you slightly modify your practice sessions. This suggests that instead of picking up the same rod and line for each practice session you should, instead, choose a slightly different rod or line. Put a 6-weight line on your 5-weight rod, for instance.
How do you know when you have started to develop the right memory? When you can pick the rod up and get tight loops in three or four strokes. Once that happens, simply add more line in one-foot increments and repeat the side-casting process. When you can cast about 30 to 35 feet with nice, tight loops, bring the rod up to your normal casting position and just keep doing what you were doing. If the cast goes wonky, drop the rod down a few degrees and make a few casts to get the feeling back again. Once you have everything working well, add more line in one-foot or two-foot increments, but remember to stay focused on the sensations in the hand. Keep lengthening line until you make your longest-ever cast. Once you do that, stop and really enjoy the moment. Pump your fists, shout, or do a little dance, whatever makes you feel good. Things are going to be different from now on.
Finning and Air Piano
Casting a fly rod is a lot easier if you look after your hands. For starters, there’s usually no good reason to clamp down on the rod while you retrieve the fly. With the possible exception of a blind hit by a streaking sailfish, you’ll have plenty of time to get firm hold of the rod and engage the fish. Keep your fingers lightly touching the cork and cradle the rod in your palm. This gives the muscles in your hand a chance to relax. Your casting will also benefit if you stop fishing every 15 minutes or so and move your hands (from the wrist) as if they were fish fins. Follow that up with a few seconds of air piano (“Flight of the Bumblebees” is a good piece) to get your finger joints loosened up. If anyone looks at you nervously, just smile.
Lighten the Load
Earlier this year, I was handed a state-of-the-art 8-weight that a friend was having a bit of trouble casting. The rod cast OK, but felt rather numb, which was strange for such a high-tech rod. I had this nagging feeling it was being held back by something. I could not help but notice the gorgeous reel hanging off the butt. The 4-1/2-ounce rod was paired with a reel that weighed about 10 ounces, the fishing equivalent of a small sports car with two sumo wrestlers sitting in the back. I unscrewed the reel and carefully put it on the ground. The weight loss had an immediate and profound effect. I could feel the cast and as a result was able to create nice, sharp loops. I gently suggested that a (much) lighter reel might be a better choice.
I can’t think of any rod I have cast in the past 10 years that didn’t perform better with a lighter reel. Gone are the days when you got a heavy reel to balance a (usually tip-heavy) single-handed fly rod. And I’m not the only one who thinks lighter reels are a good thing. A few e-mails with folks in the rod-making industry suggests the preference for light reels is pretty common. This quote from Josh Prestin at Redington sums it up perfectly: “ When it really gets down to it, though, you’ll find us with the lightest reel possible unless we’re fishing game that demands more reel performance — and those fish usually require less actual casting.”
The Right Grip
Fly-rod grips are based on a one-size-fits-all system, which generally works fine for most folks. But what if you have small or large hands? Most folks can cast a rod with a mismatched rod grip for an hour or so without too much trouble. But eventually, the muscles and ligaments in the hand are going to get tired and cranky. If you start casting well, but notice that your hands are sore after an hour or so, the problem may be with the rod grip.
This is where tailoring the rod grip to match your hands can pay dividends. It’s pretty simple to do. Use the glove-sizing technique of wrapping a measuring tape around your casting hand just below the knuckles. If the result is less than 8 inches, you have small hands. If it is over 10 inches, you have large hands.
If your hands are small, you can reduce the rod grip’s diameter by sanding off some of the cork. I suggest you do this with 100-grit sandpaper and do it in several steps — you don’t want to go mad and remove too much cork at once. Reducing the diameter by as little as one-sixteenth of an inch may be all you need to get a comfortable grip.
If you have large hands, there are a couple of options. The easiest approach is to wrap some Winn Rod Overwrap Grip Tape on the grip. This will add almost an eighth of an inch of diameter to the handle. An alternative is to use one of the new heat-shrink wraps. If these tricks don’t work, contact a custom rod builder. Paying a little extra to get a rod that feels good all day long is a sound investment.
Hauling Hand
You can also make better hauls by paying attention to the sensations in the fingers of your hauling hand. Obviously, you don’t want to try this until after you have got your rod hand’s muscle memory sorted out. Since you need to grasp the line only lightly with your thumb and first two fingers, you can detect very small changes in tension. I find this works particularly well with longer casts, where the rod is usually closer to horizontal at the start of the forward cast. As soon as you feel the line tension change (when the cast fully unfurls behind you), start the forward cast and begin the haul slowly and smoothly.
Ambidextrous
This focus-based technique also works for folks who already cast well with one hand, but not the other. For most of us, the nondominant hand has virtually no casting muscle memory. This means you are working from a clean slate, which can actually make things a bit easier. There are plenty of situations where casting from your non-dominant hand will be the best (or only) way to reach a fish. Most of us have two hands, why not make use of both of them?
