It became a common occurrence on our annual opening-weekend outing that a member of our group who didn't fish all that much would come trudging back to the cabin with one of the biggest trout of the weekend on his stringer. When we queried him on how he caught the trophy his reply was "by going against the grain." It usually meant that if everyone else was catching fish by bouncing the bottom with spawn, he'd plunk a chunk of skein eggs in a hole, plop down on a log and wait. Eventually he'd catch a big trout. Or if spinners worked on a quick down-and-across swing was scoring, he'd wade upstream, tossing hardware against the logs and retrieve them slowly, directly downstream. Though his tactic were unconventional, the results were hard to argue with.

Fly-fishing is one form of trout fishing where anglers often get too set in their ways. It's logical for a fly fisherman using dry flies to want to achieve a drag-free float. A fly drifting is such a manner closely simulates a dun or mayfly spinner that is riding the current. The most consistent way of achieving this natural drift is to fish upstream and strip line as the fly drifts back towards you. This does a perfect job of imitating a serenely drifting, natural-looking mayfly.

But not all aquatic insects drift demurely on the surface in this manner. Caddis flies and stoneflies are much more animated on the surface of the water. Constantly fluttering, skipping, hopping as they either hatch or perform their mating ritual, stoneflies and caddis flies are better imitated by fishing a dry fly downstream so you can manipulate the fly to imitate the live insects.

The same thing applies to many terrestrial insects. Grasshoppers and crickets are very animated when they're on the water. It's an unnatural environ for a land-based insect, and their kicking, struggling death throes are best mimicked by the line and rod control made possible by fishing a dry fly downstream. The gentle, soft presentation afforded by casting upstream isn't necessary or even desired with bulky terrestrials. Turning around and presenting the fly downstream with a noisy splat simulates the way an ungainly grasshopper lands on the water and rings the dinner bell for trout.

There are times when turning around and presenting a mayfly imitation on a downstream drift can pay big dividends too. One of my favorite streams has a prolific hatch of Tricos or black and whites that occurred in July and August. The mayflies are miniscule morsels best imitated by No. 20 to 24 flies, but the trout go nuts over the little snacks and will gorge themselves when the flies are on the water. The trout are super-selective though and extremely leader-shy.

After much trail-and-error and head scratching, I found that a downstream, parachute-cast presentation worked best with the black-and-whites. By casting downstream, I could maneuver the fly into the trout's narrow feeding lane without having the fly line and leader pass over him first. The tactic was often rewarded with a sipping take when upstream presentations only put the fish down or resulted in repeated refusals.

I learned another lesson about "turning around" for trout on the same stream. The stream is not only a favorite of anglers, but also a favorite with canoeists. If you got out at the crack of dawn you could enjoy a few hours of fishing before the "silver hatch" started and sent every trout in the river scurrying for cover. It was about midmorning when the first of the barrage came clamoring around the bend. I watched them as they bounced off the cedar sweepers and logjams before passing and asking, "How's the fishing?" My usual response was to mumble under my breath, "Great until you got here!"

That same day I noticed a fellow angler with wide-brimmed hat and a wicker creel working his way downstream towards me. Undaunted by the increasing canoe traffic, the angler laid cast after cast within inches of the upstream edge of the cedar sweepers as he waded downstream.

After he passed one particularly fishy-looking logjam, I watched as he turned around and angled a cast back behind the logjam where it met the bank. The fly landed with a splat and almost instantly a fat foot-long brookie jumped on it. I watched as he released the trout, let a bevy of canoes pass, before crossing the river and making the obligatory drifts along the face of the sweeper before turning and looping another cast up in behind the logs. I could see a wake headed towards his fly and the fish nailed the yellow bug with a vengeance. The 18-inch brown trout put up a spirited battle before the angler slipped the net under the fish.

Realizing he had an audience, he came over to chat. I excitedly queried him on his success. He explained that early in the morning the trout could be found in their normal feeding lanes along the face and at the ends of the sweepers. Once the canoes spooked the fish they retreated to the backsides of the logjams and cover. By turning around and working up behind the cover with terrestrial imitations it was still possible to take some good fish right in the middle of the day, even with an army of canoes bearing down on you.

My friend who is an accomplished spinner fisherman consistently takes some dandy trout with the flashy hardware. 75% of the time, he fishes them in the classic quartering across-and-down swing that produces so well on most occasions. The technique is particularly deadly when the river is up slightly and off-color and the trout are active and positioned at the edge of logs and in-stream cover. But later in the season when stream levels drop and clear, trout are more inclined to be tucked up under a logjam or undercut bank. Then he'll do a flip-flop and fish the spinners upstream.

There are several advantages to turning around and fishing spinners upstream. For one thing, it's easier to get within casting distance of trout with an upstream approach because the trout inherently face upstream, into the current, and wading cautiously up from behind prevents spooking them. By fishing upstream, you don't dislodge silt and sand that will drift down to the fish and spook them either.

Trout in low, clear flows are not going to stray far from cover and security to whack a spinner either. Drawing strikes from reclusive trout under tough conditions requires finessing spinners tight and parallel to logjams, under overhanging brush and other hides while working upstream. Running a spinner parallel to a log allows the trout to quickly dart out and nail its quarry without straying far from cover, whereas a across-and-down swing might not draw much interest.

Live bait anglers know the importance of achieving a natural drift and allowing the bait to tumble along the bottom. But when waters are running high, dark and cold, an alternative approach can pay big dividends. Trout that are lethargic and not willing to move far to intercept a bait might not be able to resist a "wait-and-see" approach. Use a big bell or pyramid sinker to plunk a good-sized gob of night crawlers, a chunk of spawn or a big minnow to dangle in front of them. Eventually the sight and smell of a free meal is more than they can resist. You just need to wait them out.

Bait-fishermen will find that turning around and fishing upstream can achieve the same results that spin-fishermen find when using the technique. A stealthy approach, a natural drag-free drift and precise presentation are the benefits of working against the current. You're likely to get more snags and bites can a little more difficult to feel when fishing bait upstream, but turning around and changing your strategy will often result in more trout in the creel.