I enjoy talking to people who are smarter than me. Fortunately, my wife is one of those people—I get to talk with her all the time. I have a friend whose deep understanding of conservation issues is endlessly fascinating and even a source of hope (most of the time). I had the good fortune to talk with David James Duncan once (for the Sidechannels podcast) and the erudition in the room was nearly palpable. Fly rod designers must be included in this bunch, of course, and of them all these are the guys who make me feel most sheepish. Though I don’t know who they are, I’d happily add the designers of RIO’s new Elite Gold XP and Elite Gold MAX series fly lines to this list.
Fly line designers are probably an overlooked member of this coterie of experts. Let’s admit it: lines aren’t nearly as sexy as rods, reels or flies; what subtle differences exist between one line and another are not likely to be seen (outside of colors) and maybe not even likely to be felt by many anglers. And yet, it’s in those subtle differences that an argument might be made for the supremacy of the line in the line-rod-reel triangle. Don’t get me wrong—aesthetics are a worthwhile consideration, and I can appreciate the pleasure that comes from sticking a shiny, finely turned fly reel on a well-appointed rod. But at the end of the day, for many fishing situations, the reel is mainly there to hold the line, without which the rod is meaningless.
Here: Jason Rolfe gets an assist from his son, Carver, with spooling up a new line.
This points to the line’s supremacy. I remember the first time I casted a line that made me sit up and take notice. Up to that point, I’d been casting fairly generic trout tapers on my old, two-piece 7-weight with middling results. The ultimate test was the frenetically paced surf casting I started learning on Washington’s Puget Sound the first time I tried my hand at fishing for coho during salmon season. Long casts weren’t requisite—the fish often travelled within 40 feet of the beach—but a long cast could certainly help. An 80-foot cast spent more time in the water and covered a wider area.
At the time, I figured I was the problem. If I couldn’t cast the way the old salts next to me did, then I was obviously doing something wrong and I needed to practice, study, dissect, improve. I think a part of me wanted, stubbornly, to believe that the gear didn’t matter. That a used rod (albeit a decent enough one) and a basic fly line could do any job as long as I learned how to make it sing.
I know now that is only partly true. The fish don’t know what brand rod you’re fishing, what line and what reel. And that first season of salmon fishing, I caught fish in spite of myself. It took a while to get it figured out, but eventually I got the hang of making long casts with piles of driftwood and gawkers complicating the backcast. And yet, that first season, I never quite felt like I’d figured anything out.
The following year, after some discussion with the guy at the local fly shop, I splurged on a new beach line. I wanted something tailor made for the beach. Something that would cast long but with ease, requiring minimum false casts, easy to pick up, shoot backward, and shoot forward. Period, end of story, end of cast. RIO’s Outbound (and Outbound Short) fit the bill.
Above: All spooled up and ready to go for a flood tide.
It worked as advertised and was a revelation. A slight tweak to my equipment, and suddenly I was casting like the gray-hairs down the beach who, between casting sessions, sat on driftwood and told stories about flats boats and species like tarpon and permit that, at the time, I knew next to nothing about.
But more than that, something clicked for me, for the first time in my flyfishing life—the fact that gear really could matter. In fact, the line itself could be the difference between sometimes hitting 50 feet with effort and hitting 60-80 feet most of the time with little to no effort. From that point on, I started paying closer attention to my lines, noting the differences between them.
I’ve been a fan of RIO ever since. I’ve fished lines from other makers and mostly liked them. And I’ve fished one or two other RIO lines over the years that I wasn’t a fan of for various reasons. But hand me a RIO line and I will very happily spool it up and hit the water, whether it’s a pond, a river, or the ocean.
Here: RIO's recycled and fully compostable line spools deserve two thumbs up. Photo: Copi Vojta
All of which could point to this review being just a bit biased. Give me a RIO line, and I’ll find something to love about it. What I’ll say in my defense is, if I had a problem with a line, I simply wouldn’t write about it.
But also, my requirements are simple, and more than covered by the space-age technologies and significant hours of R&D that go into most of the flyfishing gear on offer these days.
Both RIO lines I fished recently—a WF5F Elite Gold XP and a WF8F Elite Gold Max—are categorized as “multi-purpose” lines, which works well for me because I often ask a lot of the lines I fish. I’m not the guy who has a stillwater line, a big river line, a small stream line, ad infinitum. There’s just not enough space in my closet and not enough interest in my brain.
I fished the Gold XP on Colorado’s Front Range, as well as my smaller home river, and in both cases it did the job I asked it to do. Hatch-matching is a rare luxury in the places I usually fish for trout, so often I’m either searching with nymphs or simply looking forward to the later part of the season when a hopper or big caddis will do the job. The XP’s 1/2 heavy size seemed to add that little bit of oomph necessary to turn over a stonefly rig; I even fished some smaller streamers with it. But, as advertised on the box, switching to a longer leader and some smaller dries when I found a pod of rising fish later in the evening, the casting was just as effortless—this although the position of those risers forced me to present the fly with long backcasts and awkwardly angled roll casts.
Above: The Flyfish Journal Editor Jason Rolfe casts the RIO Elite Gold Max in search of urban warm water dwellers on Colorado's Front Range.
The Gold Max, being a full-size heavy, is better suited to bulkier flies and bigger casts. For me, it’s the line to use for bass in ponds (firing poppers into the weeds) or salmon in the surf (sending Clousers to the horizon). For pond fishing, it was great—the line carried well at the middle casting distances required but never felt overpowering or clunky. Notably, it’s a solid close quarters line as well—the short front taper was perfect for abbreviated casts at close-cruising carp on the South Platte in CO and the Columbia River closer to home and, again as advertised, I could see it being a great line for heavier indicator rigs, though that isn’t something I find myself doing too often.
The Flyfish Journal photo editor Copi Vojta took his Gold MAX to the beach near his home in Bellingham, WA, and fished it on his older, fast-action 7-weight. With the help of a tailwind, he said, long casts were effortless, “but even when the wind shifted a few hours later the Gold MAX provided advantages, even into and quartering a good breeze.” The SlickCast technology worked as advertised as well—the lines feel frictionless traveling through the rod guides, a sensation that is both technically and aesthetically pleasing, like flyfishing ASMR.
Both of us were fans, as well, of the color scheme on the line. The distinct changes in color helped with tracking those long casts and finding the ideal point at which to shoot line on a final cast. “The color change from the running line to the head acts as a great visual reference for a ballpark ideal loading point,” Copi agreed.
Copi told me his 7-weight Gold MAX will stay spooled up through salmon season and beyond, and I have no plans to swap out my 8-weight version. Summer is just getting started, and the carp and bass won’t catch themselves. Though I haven’t hit the beach yet, coho will be coming through in a couple months and I plan to take full advantage of its “multi-purpose” moniker.
Above: A nice casting line—that looks good too. The color changes are intuitive and helpful.
As for the Gold XP, I can see no reason not to keep it in rotation for this summer’s trout fishing. It’s a pleasure to cast on the couple of rods I’ve fished it on now, a pleasure that has been reinforced by a few sturdy spring trout plucked from difficult lies.
The argument over the relative importance of lines, rods and reels is an old one, and I’m sure one that won’t soon be settled. I’ve heard it said more than once that a good caster can make do with any combination of the three, no matter what brand names are involved. But, in terms of sheer utility, there is probably no easier way to level up your casting than changing lines. If you’re in the market for a change, RIO’s Gold XP and MAX lines should be on your short list.
Visit Farbank.com to learn more and get your hands on the RIO Elite Gold XP and RIO Elite Gold MAX.