Bri Winter learned to fly fish from her father. Though there have been seasons of her life when she fished less often, growing up fly fishing with her dad and brother blossomed into a lifelong love of the sport.
In 2024, during a guided fly fishing course, Bri reconnected with old friend Kensey Barker. They also met Hannah Ardrey and Tori Martin, fellow women anglers in the Richmond, Virginia, area. The four women left the class with something far more valuable than photos of the trout they caught.
“That was the first time I fished with women,” Bri said, “and it was amazing.”
After that first class, Kensey started a group chat so the new friends could keep fishing together. Hoping to meet more women anglers, they dubbed their group Richmond Fly Women. They started spreading the word on social media and meeting regularly to fish, practice casting, and tie flies.
“We thought maybe we could get a few people interested,” Kensey said of the group’s early days, “But it was insane all at once. A lot of people reached out and were like ‘I’ve been waiting for this! We really want other women to fish with!’” Since its official founding in April 2025, the Richmond Fly Women has grown into a small but dedicated community of close to 30 women.
Fly fishing uses artificial bait, often hand-made, or “tied,” from materials such as fur, feathers, yarn, and foam. Distinct from fishing with live bait, fly fishing requires its own specialized rods, reels, and lines. What sets fly fishing apart the most, however, is the knowledge and technique needed to do it well.
“With fly fishing, you have to understand the fish better,” Hannah explained. “You have to understand where in the water the fish like to be, what current they like to be in, what structures they like to be behind. You have to know what they’re eating that time of year—and not only the insects, but what stage of life those insects are in. You can get a fly that matches each stage of life, and you have to make that fly behave the way that insect behaves.”
Richmond Fly Women displayed different types of fly fishing ties at the Richmond Folk Festival. Photos by Emma Bussard/Virginia Humanities
“When you use live bait, like worms,” Bri added with a laugh, “they’re smelly. They’re wiggly. A fish is going to eat it!” This can make fly fishing a puzzling pastime for some anglers who are eager for a big fish payoff. But it’s central to why others love it. “I think people who love fly fishing love the process,” Bri said. “You’re not guaranteed to catch a fish, so you have to love being out there. You have to love the movement, the dance of it.”
The complex knowledge and special equipment needed for fly fishing is part of what makes having a community of anglers so important. “There are so many people who want to [fly fish] for the first time, but don’t know how, or don’t have the equipment,” Kensey said. “It’s intimidating, so they don’t do it.”
The Richmond Fly Women also describe challenges that feel unique to their experiences as female anglers, such as misconceptions that women don’t like to fish or aren’t good at it. They may have safety concerns about fishing in isolated areas or being alone on the water with a male fishing guide they don’t know well. Even just the culture of fly fishing with men can sometimes feel discouraging. “It’s always about who gets the biggest fish and who gets the most,” Bri explained. But from that first trip together, fishing with the Fly Women “wasn’t a competition.”
Instead of getting the best catch, the Richmond Fly Women focus on the thrill of learning from each other. They call it “Type 2 Fun,” a term coined by geologist Rainer Newberry to describe activities that are challenging, even frustrating, in the moment, but bring growth and satisfaction in the long term.
The key to Type 2 Fun for the Fly Women is encouraging each other and celebrating milestones beyond catching the biggest fish, like an accurate cast or a beautifully tied fly. They take the littlest victories seriously—sometimes literally. In their group chat, they take turns sharing their “dink of the day:” photos of tiny fish that might not otherwise make for a celebrated catch.
When asked to share their favorite fishing memories, Kensey, Bri, and Hannah told stories of kayak misadventures, lightning storms, and fish that got away. None of their favorite fly fishing experiences revolved around an impressive catch, but instead showcased each woman’s ingenuity, grace under pressure, and willingness to learn from their own mistakes.
Having a space to share those experiences is why Richmond Fly Women is so important. “I didn’t realize how much need there was for this space for women, not just in Richmond, but the fly fishing community,” Hannah said. “I’d like to give a space to people where they can just learn. I’ve learned as a woman, and from other women, that there’s a need for that space where it’s less intimidating.”
The Richmond Fly Women have big goals for their growing community, which has already helped them connect to similar networks of women anglers around the U.S. They recently showcased their fly tying skills at the Richmond Folk Festival as part of the Virginia Folklife Area’s “Riverlore” program, and they plan to launch a blog to share victories (both big and small) and safety tips. They even hope to eventually have a library of rods and other equipment that they can lend to women learning to fly fish.
It’s all part of their dream to bring more women into fly fishing, and to help women become more visible as leaders in the sport. Bri is starting with her own two sons. “I love that they go out fishing with a bunch of women,” she said. “I think that’s really important, to see that women fish too, and that their mom is teaching them how to fish. I learned from my dad, but they’re learning from me.”
Ellie Dassler is a public folklorist based in Richmond, Virginia.
