I've been fishing with Todd Jurgensen for over a decade, and I've watched him do something I still can't quite replicate: he makes fish bite when they absolutely shouldn't.
I'm not talking about finding new water or switching to a completely different technique. I'm talking about standing in the exact same spot, throwing at the exact same fish, and somehow—through sheer persistence and microscopic adjustments—convincing that fish to eat.
It's maddening to watch. And it's taught me more about real fishing than any guide, book, or YouTube video ever could.
Let me tell you about the day I finally understood what makes Todd different.

The Setup: When Good Anglers Give Up
We were fishing a spring creek about an hour outside Park City—one of those technical trout streams where the water is so clear you can count the spots on a brown trout from thirty feet away. Crystal-clear water means ultra-spooky fish, and ultra-spooky fish mean you get one, maybe two shots before they wise up.
It was mid-morning, and we'd spotted a nice rainbow—probably 18 inches—holding in a seam behind a midstream boulder. Perfect feeding lane. Visible rises. Classic setup.
I took the first crack at it.
Cast one: Parachute Adams, size 16. Perfect drift. The trout rose, inspected it, and sank back down. Refusal.
Cast two: Switched to an Elk Hair Caddis, size 14. Dead drift. The trout didn't even look up.
Cast three: Went smaller—CDC Mayfly, size 18. The trout shifted six inches upstream, away from my fly.
That's when I knew: this fish had seen it all before, and I'd just burned three casts confirming what it already knew—flies = danger. I did what most competent anglers would do: I moved on to find a less educated fish.
Todd? Todd walked up to the spot, stared at that trout for a solid minute, and said, "I'm getting that fish."
I laughed. "Dude, that thing's been to college. It's not eating."
He just smiled. "Give me twenty minutes."
The Grind Begins: Micro-Adjustments in Action
Here's what I thought would happen: Todd would throw some Hail Mary pattern—maybe a hopper or a streamer—try to trigger a reaction strike, and either luck into it or spook the fish permanently.
Here's what actually happened: Todd turned fishing into a science experiment.
Adjustment #1: The Approach Angle
First thing Todd did? He didn't cast from where I'd been standing. He moved fifteen feet downstream and waded in slower, creating less disturbance. Small change, but it meant his leader wouldn't drift over the fish before the fly did.
Cast one: Same Parachute Adams I'd started with. Size 16. The trout rose, looked at it, and refused. But—and here's what I didn't notice at first—the refusal was slower. The trout took longer to inspect it before saying no.
Todd's reaction? "Okay. It's interested, but something's off."
Adjustment #2: Tippet Diameter
Most anglers would've switched flies at this point. Not Todd. He cut back his tippet from 5X to 6X—making his leader even thinner and less visible. Same fly. Same drift.
Cast two: The trout rose again. This time it got within an inch of the fly before refusing.
Todd nodded. "We're getting closer. It's not the pattern—it's the presentation."
The Physics of Deception: Why Micro-Changes Matter
At this point, I'm sitting on the bank watching this unfold like it's a nature documentary. Todd's narrating his thought process out loud:
"The fly's landing too hard. See how it dimples the water? That's not natural. Real mayflies touch down softer."
Adjustment #3: Leader Length
Todd added three feet to his leader—taking it from 9 feet to 12. Longer leader means the fly line lands further from the fish, and the lighter tippet allows the fly to land more delicately.
Cast three: This time, the Adams touched down like a whisper. The trout rose... and Todd set the hook.
But the fish didn't eat it. It refused again—but it refused after opening its mouth. We were literally millimeters away.
I would've been frustrated. Todd? He looked encouraged.
"Did you see that? It opened its mouth. It wants to eat. We're dialing it in."
Adjustment #4: The Dead Drift vs. The Micro-Drag
Here's where it gets weird.
Todd's next change wasn't to the gear—it was to the drift itself. He explained:
"Most trout eat bugs that are floating dead-drift, right? But some trout—especially pressured ones—key in on struggling insects. The ones trying to escape but can't quite do it."
So what did he do? He intentionally induced micro-drag on the fly. Not the aggressive drag that looks unnatural—we're talking about a tiny, almost imperceptible movement. Like an insect trying to flutter its wings but failing.
Cast four: Todd drifted the fly naturally for three feet, then gave the rod tip the slightest twitch—maybe an inch of movement. The fly skittered for half a second.
The trout exploded on it.
Net in Hand: The Payoff
Todd landed that rainbow. Eighteen inches, healthy, and absolutely gorgeous.
But here's the thing—it wasn't the fish that mattered. It was what I learned watching him work.
Most anglers fail because they make macro changes when they should be making micro ones.
When a fish refuses, the instinct is to completely change tactics: different fly, different location, different method. Todd taught me that sometimes—especially with educated fish—the solution isn't to change what you're doing, but to refine how you're doing it.
That rainbow didn't need a different fly. It needed:
- A better approach angle
- A lighter tippet
- A longer leader
- A softer presentation
- A slightly imperfect drift
Five micro-adjustments. Twenty minutes of persistence. One hell of a catch.
The Lesson: Grinding Isn't Glamorous, But It Works
Since that day, I've tried to adopt Todd's mindset when fishing gets tough. It's not easy—because persistence isn't sexy, and grinding isn't Instagram-worthy.
Nobody wants to post about the seventeen casts it took to dial in a presentation. They want to post the hero shot.
But here's the truth: the best anglers aren't the ones who get lucky on cast one. They're the ones who refuse to give up until they've exhausted every micro-variable.
Todd's taught me to ask different questions when fish won't cooperate:
Instead of: "What fly should I use?"
Ask: "Is my presentation perfect?"
Instead of: "Should I move to a new spot?"
Ask: "Have I truly tested every angle and depth here?"
Instead of: "Why won't this fish eat?"
Ask: "What micro-change gets me 1% closer?"
The Todd Method: How to Grind Smarter
After years of fishing with Todd, I've reverse-engineered his process. Here's the framework he uses when fish are being difficult:
Step 1: Confirm Interest
Before making changes, verify the fish knows your offering exists. If you're getting zero response—no follows, no looks, no movement—you might be in the wrong spot or fishing the wrong depth entirely.
Todd's Test: Make three casts with a proven pattern. If there's any response (a look, a follow, a false strike), the fish is interested. Now you're just refining the con.
Step 2: Change One Variable at a Time
This is critical. If you change your fly, your tippet, and your casting angle all at once, you'll never know which adjustment worked.
Todd's Sequence:
- Adjust approach/casting angle
- Change tippet diameter
- Modify leader length
- Alter retrieve/drift speed
- Adjust depth
- Change fly size (not pattern yet)
- Finally, change fly pattern if needed
Most fish eat before you get to step 7.
Step 3: Document the Details
Todd keeps mental notes of what works. When he finally gets a fish to commit, he remembers exactly what the winning combination was:
- What was the leader setup?
- What was the retrieve?
- What was different about that cast?
Then he applies that knowledge to the next tough fish.
Step 4: Know When to Move On
Even Todd has limits. If a fish spooks, shuts down completely, or he's made 15+ casts with no progress, he'll move on. Persistence is valuable, but not if you're fishing to a ghost.
Todd's Rule: "If I'm not getting closer with each adjustment, the fish is telling me it's not happening today."
Why Persistence Beats Talent Every Time
Here's what I've realized watching Todd outfish more "talented" anglers over the years:
Talent gets you to the fish. Persistence gets you the fish.
Anyone can find good water. Anyone can identify where fish are holding. But when those fish won't cooperate—when they've seen every fly in your box and refused them all—that's when persistence separates the good anglers from the great ones.
Todd doesn't have some magic fly pattern I don't have. He doesn't have secret spots I can't access. What he has is a willingness to grind when I'd rather move on. He trusts that micro-adjustments compound into major success.
And honestly? It's a masterclass in deception. Because the best cons aren't the ones that work instantly—they're the ones that adapt, evolve, and eventually become so refined that the target never sees them coming.
The Dupe Requires Dedication
The fishing industry sells convenience. The hottest new lure. The "one fly" that catches everything. The secret spot that produces every time.
But Todd's taught me that real success comes from the opposite approach: dedication to the details, even when it's tedious.
When everyone else is chasing new water, Todd's refining his presentation on old water.
When everyone else is switching flies every three casts, Todd's adjusting his tippet diameter.
When everyone else is calling it quits, Todd's making one more micro-change.
And you know what? He catches fish when nobody else does.
Your Challenge: Become a Grinder
Next time you're on the water and fish won't cooperate, I want you to try the Todd Method:
- Commit to one fish (or one spot) for 20 minutes minimum
- Make micro-adjustments between every 2-3 casts
- Document what changes you're making mentally
- Don't change your fly until you've exhausted presentation variables
Will it work every time? No. Some fish are unattainable.
But will it work more often than giving up after three casts? Absolutely.
And when it does work—when you finally dial in that perfect combination of variables and feel that take—it'll be more satisfying than any easy catch you've ever had.
The Syndicate Philosophy
At Dupe A Fish, we believe that mastering the dupe isn't about having the best gear—it's about having the best mindset.
Todd embodies that philosophy. He's taught me (and countless fish have learned the hard way) that persistence paired with precision is unbeatable.
So here's to the grinders. The anglers who refuse to give up. The ones who make seventeen casts when everyone else makes three.
You're the ones who truly master the dupe.
Next time you're ready to give up on a tough fish, ask yourself: What would Todd change?
—Christian
Gear That Supports the Grind
Todd's persistence strategy requires gear that lets you make those micro-adjustments without re-rigging every time. Check out The Arsenal for:
- Variable tippet spools (4X through 7X) for quick diameter changes
- Adjustable leader systems for on-the-fly length modifications
- Multiple fly boxes organized by size and style for rapid pattern testing
When you're grinding, efficiency matters. Gear up right.
Share your grind stories with us: Tag @dupeafish with #TheGrind and show us the tough fish you refused to give up on.