A Guide’s Tale of a World Record Striper on the SoHo
- sohobrown12
- Apr 3
- 6 min read
August 5, 2022 – South Holston River, Tennessee. As a fly fishing guide, you live for days like this. I was out on the river in my Hyde drift boat with my wife and angling partner, Christine McReynolds, doing what we always do: chasing big fish on the fly. We had no idea that by the afternoon Christine would land a striped bass (landlocked) measuring 91 cm – a fish that would become an IGFA All-Tackle (Length) world record for the species. The catch was as unexpected as it was targeted; we set out hoping for a trophy, but a world record is never something you expect to happen. Here’s the story of how preparation, perseverance, and a bit of luck all came together on that unforgettable day.
Rigged and Ready
I’ve learned over the years that success favors the prepared. Early that morning, I quietly rigged our gear with the utmost care, just in case we encountered something special. That meant tying up a leader to strict IGFA specifications and stashing a certified IGFA measuring bump board in the boat before we even launched. (I do this before every trip – clients might not notice, but I’m always ready to make a potential catch count.) For tackle, Christine was armed with a Douglas Sky G 8-weight rod, a Cortland Compact Type 6 sinking fly line, and a Cheeky Limitless reel loaded up and ready to rumble. This setup is tailor-made for throwing big streamers and stopping big fish. With heavy summer flows on the South Holston generating oxygen-rich water, we knew striped bass like to lurk in the depths, so we set out specifically targeting these river giants. We were rigged for trophy hunting – and it felt like any cast could be the one.
The Strike and the Fight
Late in the morning, as the sun started to burn off the mist, Christine laid a cast tight against an undercut bank. Her streamer drifted a moment, then she gave it a few quick strips. WHAM! The line went tight with a jarring thud. For a split second, we thought she’d snagged a log on the bottom – until that “log” started moving upstream with head-shaking force. “Fish on!” I shouted, heart pounding, as I grabbed the oars to keep the boat steady. This was clearly no trout; it was a striped bass and a hefty one at that.
Christine drove the hook home with a firm strip-set and immediately found herself in a tug-of-war with something powerful. True to her style, Christine never even uses the reel when a big fish hits. There was no time to get the line on the reel anyway – the striper took off like a freight train. She clamped down on the fly line with her gloved hand to control the runs, determined to battle this fish hand-to-hand. I remember the orange stripping glove on her line hand starting to fray and tear from the friction as the fish made a blistering run. The 8wt rod was bent deep, absorbing lunges and head shakes. The river around us boiled with each surge of the striper. I slid the net within reach and tried to stay calm, but inside I was as electrified as the line zipping through her fingers.
The fight was intense but surprisingly short. After a couple of strong runs and some bulldogging under the boat, the big striper began to tire. Christine stayed collected and applied steady side pressure, doing everything textbook right. I could tell her arms were burning – a 91 cm striper can put a serious bend in an 8-weight – but she never wavered. When the fish finally broke the surface, our jaws dropped: it was massive, chrome flanks with bold black stripes, the kind of fish that doesn’t seem to fit in a trout net. I maneuvered the boat and scooped the net under her on the first chance. We got it! I whooped internally (on the outside I was all business). The moment that fish slid into the net, I felt an incredible rush. We both knew this was the fish of the day – possibly the fish of a lifetime.
Quick Photo, Quick Release

We wasted no time savoring the victory – our focus immediately turned to taking care of the fish. Keeping her in the water, I unhooked the streamer and broke out the IGFA bump board I had quietly prepared. With the fish resting calmly on the wet board, we got a clear measurement: 91 centimeters nose to tail. 91 cm! I read it out twice to let it sink in. That length was off the charts for a landlocked striper in this river. In that instant we realized Christine had just set the world record, but there was no rowdy celebration. Instead, we moved with purpose: a couple of seconds for a quick photo and then straight back into the water she went.
The fish’s well-being was our top priority. Christine gently supported the big striper in the current as I steadied the boat. Within moments, the bass gave a powerful kick. She wasn’t exhausted at all – a perfect outcome. We watched as the striped bass slipped out of our grasp and swam back into the green depths of the South Holston. Our “celebration” was a shared look and a grin. No high-fives, no hooting and hollering – just quiet satisfaction and relief. In fact, as soon as the fish darted off, Christine simply peeled the shredded glove off her hand, grabbed another one from her pack, and started stripping out line for the next cast. “Let’s go get a bigger one,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. That’s our style: catch, release, and get right back to fishing as if nothing extraordinary just happened. There was still plenty of river left to cover and who knows, maybe an even larger monster lurking somewhere downstream.
Reflections and Looking Ahead

Watching a trophy fish swim away healthy is always the highlight of my day as a guide. That moment encapsulates why we do this – for the love of the fish and the fishery. The catch-and-release ethos is ingrained in everything we do at Flying SoHo. It wasn’t just about getting Christine’s name in a record book; it was about doing right by that magnificent striper. We take huge satisfaction in knowing that fish is still out there, possibly even bigger now, giving another angler a shot at their dream catch. In fact, every world record we’ve been a part of has happened like this – in the midst of an ordinary day of fishing, when preparation met opportunity. These achievements are spur-of-the-moment in nature. We don’t chase records with ego or fanfare; we chase fish, and sometimes the stars align.
Looking back on that August 5th adventure, I’m struck by how planned and unplanned it was at the same time. We targeted big stripers deliberately (that was the whole point of the trip), yet the world record outcome was completely unexpected. It just underscores that you never know what’s going to eat the fly on any given cast. That’s what keeps us coming back – every cast holds a bit of magic and the potential to make history. I’m incredibly proud of Christine for the skill and grit she showed during the fight, and proud of our teamwork in handling the fish to perfection. The fact that we had all the proper gear and followed IGFA rules to the letter means that when luck smiled on us, we were ready to legitimize that catch. In the end, seeing that big girl swim off strongly was more meaningful than any certificate or accolades. It reaffirmed our belief that conservation and trophy hunting can go hand in hand.
For me as a guide, this day was a personal milestone and a reminder of why I love my job. It’s not every day that you witness a world record fish come to hand – especially on a fly rod – and it’s a memory I’ll cherish forever. But by the next morning, I was already thinking about the next fish, the next client, the next opportunity to make someone’s day on the water. This story has been told and retold in our household, but we never rest on yesterday’s success. There’s always a bigger fish out there and another adventure on the horizon.
If you’re reading this and dreaming about chasing giant fish on the fly, I invite you to come share the river with us. The South Holston River and surrounding waters here in Tennessee have a way of surprising you with extraordinary catches. At Flying SoHo, we pride ourselves on providing an authentic, high-quality fly fishing experience – one that values the fish and the fishery above all else. Whether it’s trophy browns, feisty smallmouth, or massive stripers, we approach every trip with passion, preparation, and respect. We can’t promise you a world record, but we’ll certainly give you the best shot and an adventure you won’t forget. And who knows – lightning just might strike twice. I’ll be there, IGFA bump board quietly at the ready, waiting for the next story to unfold on these waters. Tight lines!
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