Greg grew up in the southern state of Arkansas (feel free to google if you don’t know where it is), where his childhood was spent fishing with his dad and grandfather. Their ventures took them to the ample lakes of the region for all the typical warm freshwater species like bass, catfish and panfish. He was introduced to fly fishing when his family moved to an isolated neighborhood atop a hill. His neighbor, Danny, who lived across the street and a little older than his father, was in the process of building a drift boat inside his garage. This peaked Greg’s curiosity. After finding an old Shakespeare fly rod in his grandpa’s garage, he took it to Danny and asked for lessons. While he wasn’t a full convert in his younger years, Greg did pack some flies tied by Danny on the occasional camping trips to a nearby tailwater with his Dad. He didn’t know it then, but Danny was the catalyst that would spark an obsession later on in his life.
GREG SCHERER
All About
Due to personal reasons, Greg took a long hiatus from fishing except for the occasional trip when visiting his Dad. It wasn’t until he enrolled back into college and found himself struggling with the long hours and stresses of architecture school that he rediscovered fly fishing (some might say out of necessity), and has yet to look back. In college, Greg spent the little free time he had, pursuing trout in the famed tailwaters of Northwest Arkansas, like the
White and Norfork rivers, as well as smallmouth in tiny spring creeks littering the area. During his time interning in Kansas City, he fell in love with carp on the fly in some of the urban water ways around the city.
After graduating Architecture School, Greg moved to Long Island to begin his professional career. This is when he began the hunt for striped bass and bluefish in the flats of the nearby bays. This forced Greg to become a better caster with the challenges of the wind on the coasts and bays. After being introduced to Kevin, through his good friend Drew back home, Greg began making the 9 hour round trip ride to the Catskills to spend time fishing the freestone streams for wild brookies and other great rivers for trout. It wasn’t long after that that they decided to try their hand at steelheading on the salmon river. Since then, Greg has seriously developed an addiction to two-handed rods and would rather pick up a switch or trout Spey rod to swing flies for anything that will eat!
When Greg isn’t fishing, he is probably working or scoping out a new, local brewery. In many ways, he finds parallels between fly fishing and architecture – Both demand time, patience, skill, craft, creativity,attention to detail, and a never ending learning curve.
HOME TOWN
Little Rock, AR
HOME WATERS
White, Norfork, and Little Red rivers, with a variety of Arkansas lakes and ponds.
TARGET SPECIES
Literally anything that will eat a fly.
ONE TIP TO IMPROVE ONE'S FISHING
If you’re just getting into the sport, find some local water (still or moving), and fish it over and over again. Learn the water and begin honing your techniques where you know you can find fish.
A GOOD FISHING STORY
I was fishing with my good buddy, Drew Wilson, on a tailwater (that will remain unnamed) and we had a super solid day with a lot of fish. We knew we had about an hour or more before the scheduled generation would begin which would push us off the water. Drew decided he was going to run up to the pool right below the damn, where in low water, is cut off from the river due to a concrete wall. I kind of chickened out and stayed behind and fished with him in sight. Sure enough, I hear him cry out my name, “Greg! Greg!” I look up towards him and see his rod completely doubled over on a huge fish, at which time I begin running to assist. During my run, he breaks off the 5x he was fishing and said that he saw a huge golden flash – which meant it was either a monster brown, or monster walleye, both of which are in this river. So now I was amped and I start fishing too the same spot. We kept an eye on the time but figured we would know when to call it quits because the damn blows a horn before generation starts. Since we were literally 50 feet below the spillways, we figured we would hear it, so we kept fishing. Later, we heard this weird buzzer that we didn’t recognize. We kind of shrugged it off when it stopped, but not even 30 seconds later, water began to rush out of the spillway, right between us and our way out!
Below the damn, the river bed quickly became flat and slick! We started running down the concrete wall, retrieving our line as we went, quickly making our way into the water, which was belly high when we crossed the first time and was now chin deep in the short time since the spillway opened! To make matters worse, my left boot untied and flew off, but luckily floated up for me to grab. Unfortunately, it left my upstream foot without any traction and right then, I thought I was a goner. I called Drew for support since he is like 7 feet tall and clung to him like a child. He didn’t understand what the problem was at first and thought I was just panicking. We eventually we made it safely back to the bank, where I explained to him why he needed to carry me.
Moral of the story is WADE SAFELY! I’ll never be doing that again!
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GREG SCHERER
All About
Greg grew up in the southern state of Arkansas (feel free to google if you don’t know where it is), where his childhood was spent fishing with his dad and grandfather. Their ventures took them to the ample lakes of the region for all the typical warm freshwater species like bass, catfish and panfish. He was introduced to fly fishing when his family moved to an isolated neighborhood atop a hill. His neighbor, Danny, who lived across the street and a little older than his father, was in the process of building a drift boat inside his garage. This peaked Greg’s curiosity. After finding an old Shakespeare fly rod in his grandpa’s garage, he took it to Danny and asked for lessons. While he wasn’t a full convert in his younger years, Greg did pack some flies tied by Danny on the occasional camping trips to a nearby tailwater with his Dad. He didn’t know it then, but Danny was the catalyst that would spark an obsession later on in his life.
Due to personal reasons, Greg took a long hiatus from fishing except for the occasional trip when visiting his Dad. It wasn’t until he enrolled back into college and found himself struggling with the long hours and stresses of architecture school that he rediscovered fly fishing (some might say out of necessity), and has yet to look back. In college, Greg spent the little free time he had, pursuing trout in the famed tailwaters of Northwest Arkansas, like the White and Norfork rivers, as well as smallmouth in tiny spring creeks littering the area. During his time interning in Kansas City, he fell in love with carp on the fly in some of the urban water ways around the city.
After graduating Architecture School, Greg moved to Long Island to begin his professional career. This is when he began the hunt for striped bass and bluefish in the flats of the nearby bays. This forced Greg to become a better caster with the challenges of the wind on the coasts and bays. After being introduced to Kevin, through his good friend Drew back home, Greg began making the 9 hour round trip ride to the Catskills to spend time fishing the freestone streams for wild brookies and other great rivers for trout. It wasn’t long after that that they decided to try their hand at steelheading on the salmon river. Since then, Greg has seriously developed an addiction to two-handed rods and would rather pick up a switch or trout Spey rod to swing flies for anything that will eat!
When Greg isn’t fishing, he is probably working or scoping out a new, local brewery. In many ways, he finds parallels between fly fishing and architecture – Both demand time, patience, skill, craft, creativity,attention to detail, and a never ending learning curve.
HOME TOWN
Little Rock, AR
HOME WATERS
White, Norfork, and Little Red rivers, with a variety of Arkansas lakes and ponds.
TARGET SPECIES
Literally anything that will eat a fly.
ONE TIP TO IMPROVE ONE'S FISHING
If you’re just getting into the sport, find some local water (still or moving), and fish it over and over again. Learn the water and begin honing your techniques where you know you can find fish.
A GOOD FISHING STORY
Good fishing story: I was fishing with my good buddy, Drew Wilson, on a tailwater (that will remain unnamed) and we had a super solid day with a lot of fish. We knew we had about an hour or more before the scheduled generation would begin which would push us off the water. Drew decided he was going to run up to the pool right below the damn, where in low water, is cut off from the river due to a concrete wall. I kind of chickened out and stayed behind and fished with him in sight. Sure enough, I hear him cry out my name, “Greg! Greg!” I look up towards him and see his rod completely doubled over on a huge fish, at which time I begin running to assist. During my run, he breaks off the 5x he was fishing and said that he saw a huge golden flash – which meant it was either a monster brown, or monster walleye, both of which are in this river. So now I was amped and I start fishing too the same spot. We kept an eye on the time but figured we would know when to call it quits because the damn blows a horn before generation starts. Since we were literally 50 feet below the spillways, we figured we would hear it, so we kept fishing. Later, we heard this weird buzzer that we didn’t recognize. We kind of shrugged it off when it stopped, but not even 30 seconds later, water began to rush out of the spillway, right between us and our way out!
Below the damn, the river bed quickly became flat and slick! We started running down the concrete wall, retrieving our line as we went, quickly making our way into the water, which was belly high when we crossed the first time and was now chin deep in the short time since the spillway opened! To make matters worse, my left boot untied and flew off, but luckily floated up for me to grab. Unfortunately, it left my upstream foot without any traction and right then, I thought I was a goner. I called Drew for support since he is like 7 feet tall and clung to him like a child. He didn’t understand what the problem was at first and thought I was just panicking. We eventually we made it safely back to the bank, where I explained to him why he needed to carry me.
Moral of the story is WADE SAFELY! I’ll never be doing that again!