Orvis Superfine Graphite Rod Review

In May, my wife and I had a baby, and my fishing opportunities had been diminished to say the least. I start to get pretty squirrelly when I can’t get out, and my need to get out on the water was further exacerbated by the arrival of a new fly rod, the Orvis Superfine Graphite “Seven-Eleven.” Not being able to take a new rod out immediately is … frustrating.

It came to a head one night when our 5-year-old was yelling across the house, the baby was crying, and the oven timer was going off as I was rushing to get steaks off the grill before they turned to rubber.

I looked at my wife and said, “Babe, I’m getting up early tomorrow and am going to the river for a few hours. I’ll be back by 07:30.” Since my wife is the coolest woman ever, she responded with, “Yeah, you should. You need to get out.”

By 5 a.m., I was knee deep in a muddy southern river, casting micro poppers for panfish with the Superfine. The rod was perfect for it, with the soft action allowing me to feel every headshake of the 7-inch bluegills that infest the river. When a much larger fish rose to my fly, I was met with a screaming run, and the Superfine bent to the cork. I felt like I had no control over the situation, not dissimilar to the night before.

But, after a few minutes, I had a 17-inch smallmouth bass in hand. He gave the best fight I’ve experienced in a while, all thanks to the Superfine.

In short: Since that day, I’ve taken the 7’11” 4-weight Orvis Superfine Graphite on multiple panfish trips, to cast dry flies to cutties in British Columbia, and chuck hoppers out of a drift boat on the South Fork of the Snake in Idaho. After all of that use, I can say it’s a rod that perfectly blends modern technology with old-school action and vibe. If throwing dry flies on small to medium water is your stick, this is the rod for you.

History of the Orvis Superfine Rods

The Orvis Superfine series has been around for a long time. Half a century ago, Orvis launched the graphite version and has kept it around since then. From the Orvis site:

“A subset of these innovative rods were less than 8’ long and ranged from 1 to 5 wt. These classics were prized for their soft feel and small-stream fishability. The individual rod names are the stuff of legend … The One-Weight, The Ultrafine, The Tippet, The Seven/Eleven, The Far & Fine.”

Since those initial rods, Orvis has updated the line of rods multiple times, with the most recent being this year. It brought back the classic names and tapers, but utilizes construction techniques used in making the flagship Helios rods.

Fit and Finish

I don’t usually focus much on fit and finish because, as long as a product works, I’m satisfied. But, with this particular rod, fit and finish are part of the experience.

The Rod

The modern technology/old-school mashup is reflected in the fit and finish of the Superfine.

The rod itself is matte black, with the white label on the butt section that has become synonymous with Orvis fly rods. I used to hate it, but over the years, it’s grown on me. And, instead of the seemingly NASCAR-inspired logos found on Helios rods, the Superfine sports a handwritten, cursive rod label. It looks classic, and I love it.

The handle is a small, cigar-style cork grip. It is noticeably smaller than the cigar handle found on other rods, due to the overall compact nature of the rod, but my hand still fits comfortably. The cork is of high quality, with minimal filler used.

Most fly rods nowadays come with a wood or synthetic insert on the reel seat. This one is cork, which was much more common in the days of old. While I could see some not liking that, I really appreciate it, as it adds to the old-timey aesthetic this rod is built around. Each of the rods in the new series has the “name” engraved on the anodized black aluminum butt of the rod — another nice touch.

The included rod tube is plastic, covered in cloth, which is one of the only points of contention I have with the rod. It retails for $598. It’s ridiculous that rods costing more than half a grand don’t have metal tubes.

There was a real opportunity to give this rod a gorgeous, burgundy metal tube with a nice cursive label. But no. It’s not a flagship, so it gets a lame tube. Orvis isn’t the only guilty party in this matter. It’s an industry-wide phenomenon that, to me, is brands just being cheap. But I digress.

Luckily, the rod cloth saves the day. It’s a khaki color, with upland birds, trout, and a cursive “Orvis” printed all over it. It looks like something you’d find in your grandpa’s garage.

On-the-Water Performance of the Orvis Superfine Graphite

The Superfine rods are designed for small stream fishing applications. Think light lines, dry flies, small streams, and little wild fish. They’re available in a tiny one-weight, up to a five-weight.

I opted for the “Seven/Eleven,” which is the four-weight in the lineup. After packing it all over the continent, I found it to be a rod that’s a ton of fun while blue-lining, but can also handle larger fish and larger rivers. I would describe it more as a “dry fly rod” rather than a “small stream rod,” even though it does that well.

Rod Action

Trout rods used to be delicate instruments, but modern versions are all about fast actions, ridiculous line speeds, and launching flies as far and as accurately as possible.

But I’m chasing dainty trout, not a hundred-pound tarpon. I want the fly rod version of a soft acoustic guitar melody, not rock and roll.

Props to Orvis for providing that in the Superfine Graphite. The action is very slow, making for a phenomenal casting experience. It will deliver delicate, light presentations with ease. The rod loads well on short casts, particularly those of 30 feet or less. You know, the distance most trout anglers fish at, but something most fast rods struggle with.

However, the slow-action Superfine can take some anglers a minute to get used to. If you’ve been throwing a broomstick, you’ll pick this thing up and throw a tailing loop every other cast (ahem, my dad). But once you chill out and slow down on your casting stroke, you’ll fall in love with the feel of casting the Superfine.

Line Rating

With the Orvis Superfine being such a slow-actioned rod, the line ratings deliver an imperfect description, given the fast-action nature of rods modern anglers are familiar with.

For example, most four-weight trout rods are fairly diverse sticks. A fast-action four will be a solid dry fly rod, a good nymph stick, and can even throw small cone-head streamers.

The Orvis Superfine is on the lighter end of the four-weight spectrum, meaning it lacks that diversity. After fishing it, I can say it’s limited to small dries, hoppers, and dry droppers. But damn son, it’s good at it.

Don’t get me wrong, it is a four-weight, and there is no need to under-line the rod. It casts phenomenally with a four-weight Scientific Anglers Trout Taper. Do not overline it, or use a half-weight heavy line like the MPX. That would make tailing loops more common.

Mending and Setting the Hook

This rod is terrible at mending and setting the hook at a distance. It became very apparent to me in Idaho. The crew I was with woke up early to chase a mutant stonefly hatch in the canyon stretch of the South Fork of the Snake.

We were making fifty-foot casts from the drift boat, and the eats were quick and plentiful. With the shorter rod length of the Orvis Superfine Graphite, it was nearly impossible for me to set the hook effectively. I switched to a standard 9-foot-5 weight and started sticking ’em. It’s just flat out hard to lift that much line off the water with a spongey rod under 8 feet in length.

The same goes for mending. Once you get past 35 feet of line on the water, the rod length isn’t there to effectively lift the line all the way down to the fly.

To be fair, this rod wasn’t made to do that, so it’s not a complaint. It’s entirely because of the short design, which is precisely what makes it more accurate for casting and manageable on brushy streams.

But if you’re taking shots within 35 feet, this thing is a dream. At close distances, setting the hook and mending is no problem.

Fighting Fish

Fighting fish with the soft, noodly action of the Orvis Superfine provides a “fun” factor that will bring a smile to anyone’s face. It makes a 6-inch trout feel like a beast. A bluegill feels like a good smallmouth. And a 16-inch trout or bass? They become a tarpon.

Honestly, fighting fish with the Orvis Superfine is one of the best parts of the rod. Big fish will bend it all the way to the cork. When did you last experience that?

While some would argue that the rod is undergunned for large fish, I disagree. I landed many fish over 16 inches on it, and a few at the magic 20-inch mark. By using effective rod angles when fighting fish, you can land just about any trout or bass relatively quickly, and the soft action is superb at protecting light, 6X tippet.

Graphite vs. Fiberglass

I have to put a very biased note in here on the material the Superfine is made of and the effects it has. You can purchase this rod in a fiberglass or graphite version. Buy the graphite, because fiberglass sucks. I said what I said, hipsters.

Modern rods are graphite for a reason. It tracks better, is lighter, recovers more quickly, and can generate better line speeds, even when given the same action as a fiberglass rod.

The lack of fast recovery in fiberglass will result in rod bounce at the end of your forward stroke. That will cause accuracy problems. You won’t find that with the Superfine Graphite. Modern technology allows it to have the fun fiberglass feel, with all of the benefits of graphite.

Final Thoughts

Overall, the Orvis Superfine Graphite offers what I would call a “classic” vibe rather than a “retro” one, a subtle yet important distinction. And it’s an accurate, fantastic dry fly rod.

Yes, it’s arguably one of the best small stream rods of all time, and should be on the top of your list if that’s what you’re in the market for. But maybe you live in the South like me and are looking to make panfishing fun again. This rod does that.

I’ve started looking for excuses to fish it, due to the fun factor it provides. Even when I’m on big rivers and in situations the rod isn’t made for, I find myself stringing it up. In the words of Kelly Galloup, “stalk more, cast less.” Get out of the boat, get close, and stalk that sipper. The Superfine will deliver.

It is a one-trick pony, but it’s a really talented pony. Anyone looking for a dry fly rod needs one in their quiver.