Jimbo
Forum Replies Created
-
Posts
-
Time to release a few more….
On to Wyoming
So I was up early for the drive to Wyoming. For once Mike was up first and the coffee was ready. Fueled with a couple cups of French Press, I had the truck loaded and headed out of camp before 8am. It’s another long day behind the wheel, driving over 800 miles from Mogote Campground to Afton Wyoming.
Many CDs were played as I traveled across 5 states….
Starting in Colorado, dip into New Mexico, back into Colorado, then Utah, Idaho, and finally Wyoming.Heavy rains going over Soldier Pass, Utah.
There were a few delays involving highway repairs and one lane for traffic traveling in both directions.
I arrived in Afton at 10:30pm.The next morning I slept in and I needed it. When I got up at 10am it was still in the 40’s outside. So I took my time getting organized and decided on a favorite Cutthroat Creek. I put on my Simms wet wading gear and grabbed some breakfast. After having so many days where my catches were in the single digits, I knew this was one of the places I could rack up a number. So I pointed the truck uphill and was there by noon.
This little Creek is not a Big Fish Creek, it’s a numbers creek. Now I have caught a few Cutthroats here to 16″, most days the big ones are 13-14″ and fish averaging 9-12″. So I chose one of my favorite rods a Sage LL 4711.
This little gem will handle my #8 Chubbys as easily as it does a #22 BWO and still make these little fish feel like a Big Dog.
As I walked down through the meadow, waves of grasshoppers jumped out ahead of my every footstep.
I am thinking to myself, this could be an epic day !It didn’t take me long to select a tan Morrish Hopper.
And it didn’t take long for the Cutts to find it……I love this little creek !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s like slipping into clean sheets after a long day.
So comfortable !Again these guys, although small, put up a terrific fight.
This guy is just about as a perfect specimen as is possible.
And again it’s just not the fish, this creek has a bunch of good water, and you can cast to most of it.
I’ve been a bunch of places where there are good fish there, if you could just get your flys to them.
This place is generally open, allowing for full casts. Room on your backcast, and not too much overhanging brush protecting the fish lying in the shadows.Then there is that another thing that has been limiting my summer’s adventure
Yeap, the monsoons had caught up with me in Wyoming.
I still had a little time before it really came down.More miles, more smiles…..
A clap of thunder now had my attention…..
Not even 2 hours in the creek and I had to go.
But in that time I landed 19 Cutts. I felt rejuvenated.I climbed out of the creek, hustled across the meadow, and arrived at the truck just as this stuff started coming down…..
I headed back to Afton…..
Looking back at where I was fishing…..
Coming back to my room so early gave me plenty of time to think about where I was going to fish here in Wyoming.
I went by the local Fly Shop to gather intel on what was happen in the creeks and rivers up here. Seems the last two years of drought had taken a toll on some of the watersheds. The Green drainages seemed to have been impacted the most. The Salt and Grey were the better bets. Considering I have done about half my fishing on the creeks that drain into the Green that was bad news. I was going to do some exploring in new creeks over there this year and now that was in doubt. So I spent the evening looking at my maps and then looking closer on Google Maps. I decided to revisit some more familiar waters the next few days to get a feel for the impact on productive places I knew.Jimbo
J.C. What you are looking at are this years’ natural spawn. The ones Ron released were all very small, smaller than normal. I bet there wasn’t any over 2 1/2″ and no way they would grow to 5″ in no more than a month. Thanks for reporting. I will pass this up the line and see if TPWD wants to look into it.
Jimbo
Gypsy Rose: 306@Guadalupe
Barking Dog Pool:#5 think 200 yards below the weir in front of the Saunders Home
Lower slot:#5 all the way down and just above S Turn Rapids
Kanz: Gypsy Rose, downstream, below both weirs.
Jimbo
The Hidden Mile
So one more day camping with Mike on the Conejos before heading up to Wyoming. We’ve fished here before in the previous years and caught some good ones. I also lost a monster Brown here that I could not stop. It went over the top of a wing dam and cut the tippet. I was hoping for a rematch…..
We slept in I again, not worrying about fishing the morning being so cold. There was one other vehicle at the parking area but nothing to worry about here. I mentioned the number of benchmarks I’d been running into this year…..
Well add another !
We made it to the rivers’ edge…..
Looking around we could see the other anglers down at the lower end of the access. We would fish upstream from here. I am still trying to force feed them a Salmonfly in the morning. There were some big rocks in the middle of the river creating excellent holding and ambush spots. I cast to these spots and had another big blow-up and another very short fight.
I can not believe I am staring at another hook that broke it’s point off in a Trout!!!!
That’s two this summer !!!I crossed the river. Mike would work up the forest road side and myself the other. The first bend I came to I saw Brown working the slack water. Mike had already blown past me going upstream. The first fly another foam Salmonfly didn’t even draw a look. One thing I’ve learned here, if these fish see the fly and don’t take it, another drift or two won’t make a difference. So I am into my presentation rotation. Next fly a Split Flag, a look but no strike. Third fly a Green Drake, a look but no strike. The fourth fly a March Brown,…. The fish turned and followed it downstream a good 8 feet or so. It looked like he was coming up to take the fly off the surface, but ended up just being another explosion of water droplets. Again I think the fish saw me standing there before eating and changed it’s mind. After that the fish disappeared. So I was moving up the bank again looking for another.
That’s when I saw Mike motioning me to come up river where he was standing, albeit on the other side of the river.
He told me he had landed two of three strikes here. I asked where and he said the middle of the river. I asked what kind and he said they were small Browns. But he also said he could see fish rising on my side and couldn’t reach them. I asked what he was using and he said a Elk Hair Caddis.
I moved carefully up the bank looking for a rise form.
Just in front of this rock sticking out I could see, not just one, but a couple of fish rising.
Of course that’s when I first heard the thunder rolling down the valley. Just over the hill on my left were some really dark clouds. I didn’t have much time left.I switched out my fly for a Split Flag which so far had been my best Big Fish fly here. It sure saved the day last year when we were fishing the Conejos. It would have it’s chance again.
I got into casting position and watched for another rise. There he was again…..
So give it a little time to settle to the bottom and start looking up.
OK,… I’m ready. First cast lined up perfect landing about four feet above the last rise. The fly was coming back nicely. Then I saw the fish rise from the bottom to take a look. It kept coming, broke the surface, took the fly and turned down sharply. I came tight and the rod loaded up. This fish had some power. This was another up-close and personal fight. I could see the fish the whole time never more than 25′ from where I was standing. It launched itself about 3 feet clear of the surface. Mike let out a whoop from the other side of the river that I think those guys a 1/4 mile downstream could have heard. I got the leader in the rod tip and he still had a few moves left before I could pull him in scooping range. He was rolling and thrashing down just beyond my toes and still I could not reach him. I flipped the rod from upstream sideways pull to a downstream sideways pull and that worked. He was in range and I scooped him up.This was a Big Fish,… long and heavy.
I know in this picture it does not look like anything special, but it was. It was “Too Big” to try a single handed lift for a selfie. I shouted at Mike I needed for him to cross so I could get a picture. Silence followed for a few seconds and then we both started laughing. There are very few places to cross the river at these flows and we both knew it. One thing I noticed was this fish had a hernia. A distinguishing feature I thought to myself.
Again this fish was folded up in the net and doesn’t look that big here does it? I pulled out of the net and it easily surpassed the 20″ mark on the rod, for best guess 21″+, a little head with big shoulders. I slid it back into the water and watched swim off.
I inspected the fly and it was good. I blew off the water and re-applied floatant. I looked upstream and studied the water for the other fish. It took a couple of minutes, but another fish rose about another 15′ further upstream. Again I waited a few seconds before making my cast. The first drifted over the spot and nothing happened. I cast again. The second cast drifted over the spot… and nothing happened. I cast again. The third drift was on the money. I saw the fish rise up off the bottom. He didn’t take it right away. He turned and followed it for a couple of feet. Then he moved quickly and took it off the surface. This guy jumped immediately. Then he ran into the center of the river. My “Audience of One” shouting encouragement from the other side. Once I got this one coming towards me, I kept heavy pressure on him. I pulled the net and scooped him up still green. He started thrashing in the net not knowing there was no way to escape his entrapment.
And check this out…..That’s my fly in the corner of it’s jaw and just slightly forward of mine is a Stimulator. Someone else had a bad day and lost this fish recently. I pulled both flys out and tried for a selfie…..
He kind of folded up in my hand. This bug-eyed fish was a good 19″, but short of the 20″ mark.
After it’s release I studied the water again for a couple minutes, but no other fish rose. I sat down and checked the tippet. It needed replacement. As I sat on the bank some of my little friends climbed aboard….
Turning around and looking in the bushes they were everywhere…..
Again I am amazed that every fish in the river is not looking for these bugs.
Having finished refreshing my rig, I started making some casts and drifts again without results.
I moved up the bank to the next good looking spot…..A blink of intense light, followed by crackling thunder meant it was time to go… NOW !
I hustled down the bank to the place I could make my crossing back to the other side. It started to sprinkle on us making our way across the field to the Escape. We threw our stuff inside and started down FR 250. As we turned on to Hwy 17 it started to rain. We beat the rain back to camp and secured everything before the skies opened up there.
Mike needed to drive into Antonito to talk to his wife who was handling the sale of one of their properties. I stayed in camp to watch everything as it started come down. I took a seat from beneath the tarp we had stretched over the tent. It worked perfectly and I stayed dry as it came down.
The storm moved down the valley and blue skies once again appeared in the west…..
As soon as it stopped raining I started taking inventory of all my gear.
I would be leaving tomorrow morning for Afton Wyoming. It was going to be a long day in the saddle and getting ready tonight would make tomorrow morning that much easier. Mike came back, we opened another bottle, and talked about the big ones I had landed. We pulled out the boombox for another round of rock music. But the drive system had failed. And after just 40 years or so of service, the Sony had played it last CD.
Jimbo
Bear Creek Access
It was still cold in the mornings. This morning I saw 39 on the thermometer, so no need to jump out of the sleeping bag at first light. Finally Mike was up and the coffee was on. He was interested in the Bear Creek access. This is one of the places the guide had pointed out to Mike and we were trying to cover as much of this public water as possible, so time to check it out.
We arrived and looked upstream from the campground’s bridge there. I still had my foam Salmonfly tied on from yesterday.
I dropped down just above the bridge and cast along the bank.
I saw the Brown dart out from behind a boulder and take the fly. Some say it’s bad luck to land a fish on the first cast. I say that’s nonsense! The fish don’t know if it’s the first cast or the 100th. Well the fish ran out into the main current, tired there and in short order was in the net.It’s another Brown with a blue halos on it’s gill plate……
Yes,… First Cast…..
I love first cast Trout !!!!!!!!!!
Well it was Mike’s turn and he headed up the same bank…..
I needed to replace the tippet, so I just watched for awhile and retied my rig.
I decided to fish my foam fly behind him as he was still fishing the Drake.Just in front of where you see that root wad sticking out I had another explosive strike.
The Foam Salmonfly strikes again…..Yea,.. he wanted it…..
So maybe the Salmonfly bite is a morning thing.
It’s working out so far today !
Lot’s of good looking water in front of us…..
Mike giving it the good ole’ college try…..
He was still fishless.
I got to this spot…..
I’m thinking there has to be some hungry fish on the inside of that current seam.
They didn’t want the Foam, so I switched to the Brown Drake myself.
A few casts later I was on.
This one came in pretty fast.The fly’s in the prefect spot…..
I was pretty sure there was another fish or two in the inside eddy. So I called to Mike to come up and give it a try.
Sure enough a few casts later he was hooked up!
And unfortunately it came off. I offered more encouragement. There has to be another fish there. I was standing about 20 feet behind him and another 8 feet or so to the inside, right next to the willows.
Mike tried using a side arm cast and this was the result…..Yeap he didn’t wait on the backcast and over powered the forward motion before the backcast straighten out…..
The fly whipped around and stabbed me in an old scar from riding motorcycles in the streets with cars…..
Well,… I’ll live.Mike still had point and was moving up the bank.
I got above him and shot some pictures…..
And right on cue I see a bent rod…..
It was a deep slippery bank and the fish took off downstream.
Mike was yelling…..
“I’m gonna need your help.”So I worked my way back downstream and looked for a way through the willows below him.
I found an opening and got in the river below Mike. This fish was foul hooked also. Mike was having real trouble trying to get it anywhere close to the bank and my net. It was still about 10 feet out when the hook pulled. Mike couldn’t find luck if it was in a shoebox and he had a flashlight today.
Well Mike was ready for lunch which was back in the truck.
While we were munching on our Jelly and Peanutbutter sandwiches roadside, I looked down on the ground.
I’ve seen some strange looking Grasshoppers, but never an solid orange one ! Never Ever !!!
We drove up the road talking and looking at other access points. Several had multiple vehicles already parked there. We came to the original guide spot again, no vehicles, so we pulled over and hurried down to the river.
The river was lower today, so Mike crossed and I fished up the Hwy side. I was tired today and I guess I was more into watching than fishing here.
I did make some casts, but I just watched Mike for a good long while.
He worked his way up to the fenceline. Mike had a few fish come up, but none made it to the net.
It was time to try another spot.Mike then remembered a piece of public water just above the Hwy 17 bridge. You had to snake your way into the parking area off the Elk Creek Campground road. We arrived and there was two bait fishermen leaning against the railing on the old abandoned Hwy bridge with their lines out. I decided to go all the way down to the new bridge and work my way back upstream.
I wasn’t really concentrating, more like going through the motions without thinking.
My back was sore and so was my casting shoulder. I reeled up and went looking for Mike.The good news is Mike finally landed a couple here. It was late and we headed back to the campground. Time to open a bottle and put on dinner. I started a fire and we kicked back to enjoy the evening. Mike started chatting away about the Browns he finally put in the net. Which was a lot better than him sitting around stewing over the fish he lost. Catching had put the conversation back in Mike. It was partly cloudy in the evening and the crescent moon backlit the clouds. The diffused light shown down and it was brighter than it should have been. We pulled out my old Sony boombox and rocked out to CDs like ZZ Top’s “Eliminator” and Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon”.
You know,…the good Stuff !Jimbo
The Conejos Take II
So I went back to Pagosa for the night, took a shower, and packed up to check out the next morning. Then It was back to Mogote Campground on the Conejos. Going back up to Cumbres…..
The Los Pinos Basin and headed east…..
Coming down into the Conejos Basin…..
One of the switchbacks…..
I arrived at our campsite about 11am. Mike was ready to go.
He wanted another crack at the place we fished yesterday.This time I would go to the bottom of the access and he would fish from half-way up.
The Salmonflys were still everywhere, that had not changed.Neither had their reluctance to come up and eat a few of them. I gave the attractors a try, but quickly switched to the Brown Drakes again.
I did not see any fish rising. Not surprising since the major was occurring about 3pm. Still I worked the water like I was going to hook a fish on the next cast. But none rose…..
A little bit further upstream I was fishing this riffle.
I worked from the soft water inside first, then gridding the surface, and covering all possible lies out into the main current. Out in the current, somewhere I thought there was little chance for a fish, the drake disappeared, and the line went tight. I never saw a thing, it just happened. The fish moved upstream against the current. It was almost too easy at first. I walked up on the fish to recover all that line he pealed off. Then he got cleaver and bolted downstream around me. I was reeling like mad and at the same time running downstream, trying to get below him. For awhile all I was doing was staying even. Then he turned upstream and I once again I was in control. A few moments later, exhausted, he started coming back to me. It was easy to net him then.
A good fish to start with !
Swimming off to thrill the next angler.
It wasn’t 2 minutes later I heard Mike yell for help.
He couldn’t turn the fish and it was coming downstream fast with Mike in tow. I got in the river to try and block it from getting downstream of me. As it drew close I could see it was foul-hooked. No wonder he couldn’t turn it.
There were some moments, me in the water with the net, Mike trying to hold his ground, and this Trout with the hook in it’s anal fin going where it pleased. With his head free, I was having a devil of a time trying to get it in the net. When I got close the fish would lunge and be out of range. He tried to go around my legs at one time and then came from behind me and swam between my legs coming out in front. Here I made a big scoop and lifted it free of the water.Mike was on the board.
After releasing the fish Mike went upstream and I attempted to cross to the other side. I went upstream in the riffle and as I approached the far side it got deeper and faster. I was stuggling to push off the gravel which was collapsing under my feet. The wading staff really helped and I made it across without floating my hat.
There was a braid on this side I wanted to fish.
I was working my way upstream and I saw a brown rise. Again there was a root wad, embedded in the bank, and the Brown taking advantage of the soft water below it. It took several casts to get the drift right, but the first time the fly drifted along the current seam, that Brown ate it. I came tight and it thrashed around for a second before bolting upstream. The Bad news, the trunk was still attached to the root wad and it was sticking out into the middle of the braid. That Brown ran underneath it and I could feel that wood sawing on the connection. I saw the fish jump on the other side of it. My line snaked to and under the trunk and then turned upstream to where the Brown jumped. It was only a matter of time before the leader broke.
Game over,… thank you for participating. Would you like to try again?
Well on closer inspection only about 4 feet of butt section was left and it was trashed. Time to rebuild the entire leader. That gave me some time to evaluate what had happened. And really after it ran under and through the woody debris, there was no way I could have pulled it back through and out the downstream side. I tied on another Brown Drake and started to look for the next fish.
About half-way up the braid I found another hole and riffle. It took just a cast or two there to have a Cuttbow slam my fly. This sucker was like an Olympic weight lifter. It was amazingly strong for it’s size. And thick,… Some fish are described as looking like a football. This fish’s picture should be in the dictionary to illustrate the concept. I mean I using 4x with a Scott Radian 9′ 5wt and not making much an impression on this fish. I fought it for a good 2 or 3 minutes, real time, before I got it to my side and in the net. What a Fish !!! I removed the hook and reached for my camera. I don’t know how he did it, but he jumped out of the net while I was holding it above the water. Man I wanted a picture of that fish, my first Cuttbow of the trip, and unbelievably perfect speciem !!!!!!!!!
Oh well, check the fly and tippet, blow the water off, and reapply floatant. I was ready again…..
Now at the top of the braid where it split from the main channel I knew this was a good holding spot.
Several drifts later the fly vanished. This one wasn’t as strong, but it was no slouch either. There was no woody debris to contend with and I had him in the net in short order.Another good Brown ! So that made it four hooked, three landed, and picrures of two of them.
From there I went up the bank of the main channel on my side.
There was plenty of good holding water; deeper pockets, big rocks with eddys behind them, little drops, all good stuff. I would have guessed I would have caught a couple more, like I did on the other side yesterday.
I was wrong about that, zero strikes, zero looks…..One thing I am running into more bench marks on this trip than ever before. I haven’t really been counting them, but this is like my fourth. I turned around and headed back downstream. Mike was working the riffle in the main channel across from that spot I did so well yesterday.
He said he had a few fish on, but landed only one more.
A Salmonfly doing what they do on water.They don’t so much float as walk and fly their way across the surface.
It was getting late.
I crossed the river fairly easily since I was moving downstream this time. I walked up the bank and Mike had started up the hill already.
Like I said it’s a steep and rough trail back up and out of the river here.
Steep for sure !!!
It wasn’t even 6pm, but Mike was tired and ready to get some dinner.
Mushrooms everywhere…..
But I’m still not testing my luck with them.
Back at camp we had spaghetti and another Malbac.
And maybe a bit late in the day, but a shower moved through…..
It didn’t last long and it cleared before the sun went down. It was another night of amazing fish stories, stargazing, and counting satillites.
Jimbo
Day 2
Dangling the CarrotHard to tell from yesterday’s fishing what is was going to be like today. We were up early and coffee was brewed to motivate us to get going. We warmed up some Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches to fill our bellies and we were ready for Day 2. One thing Mike had done while being guided was to ask a lot of questions about all the public water. The guide had spent a bunch of time driving him around and showing him where we could fish. That was money well spent!
Today we would start at place called Sheep Creek.
That’s what you want to see on public waters…..
Mike agrees….
We would be fishing upstream from here.
I was still trying to get some fish to see my Chubby and come up and slam it. There were certainly enough Salmonflys in the air. There were also a few goldens and some other smaller stonefly. It is obvious these fish are starving, but it would be encouraging to see a few eat the naturals off the surface.
We were not seeing much so we would just cast to likely holding areas and hope for the best.
We hop-scotched our way upstream…..Our dryflys were not being bothered, but we kept the faith and sent them out time and time again.
The first raindrops came down in a brief shower.These guys were everywhere…..
Just stand near the water and you’d have a few landing on you and crawling up your legs. It almost made you think the fish must not like the taste of them. Each fish we landed was certainly well fed and fat as a butterball. But what were they eating and when?
I made it up to the bridge and further up the valley another storm gathering strength. I was working the inside when a little Brown ate the chubby. In short order it was at my feet. I swung it up with my rod and it shook like it was being electrocuted, like fish sometimes do. The hooked popped out and the little Brown fell back into the water. I turned downstream to find Mike as it started raining, it was about 11am. I put on my rain jacket and hiked down the bank. I found Mike and we hustled back to the truck as the rain gathered strength. By the time we started up the slope the shower had passed but not without muddying up the river.
We headed up the slope to the truck.
We talked and decided to drive upriver and see if we could find some clear water.
Well the water was messed up for a good stretch. We turned on the Forest Road 250 going up the Conejos valley. Much of the lower river is all private. There is a spot between two private spreads that looked pretty good. It’s about a 1/2 mile of water and noone was on it, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
So we pulled over and pulled out our gear. It’s a bit of a tough trail down to the water.
Once we were there Mike headed down to the lower end and I would fish from here to the fence.
Again I am using attractors. Fish are coming up to look but they were not pulling it under.
Very Frustrating !!!I was looking out in the main river when I heard a splash behind me. I turned around and saw the ringlets expanding where the attack had occurred. I looked and saw a few Brown Drakes coming off. I knew I had some March Browns in my Drake box. They were flys I bought years ago up in Montana. I’ve used them with success over the years in many different locals. So I cut off the Chubby and tied on the March Brown. I cast it about 4 feet upstream of the spot I thought the fish was hiding.
As the fly drifted past a pile of dead wood, a Brown came up and ate the fly with abandon. it was a short fight…..
Well I’m on the board here and maybe I’m on to something.
Here’s a look at the water I would be fishing……
There was a gravel bar to the left. A piece of the current came into the bank and worked around in some deeper water next to the bank. I freshened the floatant on the fly and got back to work. It was about noon, the major was starting, and I was about to find out if one could catch a number on this river.
Now looking behind that stump on the bank there was some large cobble with what appeared to be something waving in the water back at me. I sent the fly out above the stump. It curled around the stump with the current carrying it right next to that cobble on the inside. A head poked through the surface. I strip set. The rod doubled up and the water exploded. This was a Good Fish. We duked in out in close quarters. He would turn one way and I would flip the rod the other way and against him. He’d switch direction and I responded flipping the rod to counter his every move. It was a down and dirty fight. He never went far, but the struggle was intense, and the outcome undetermined. After what seemed to be a long stand-off, he finally started to tire. I popped the net loose. I reeled down and lifted the fish as much as I dared.
Scoop……………There’s you an honest 20″ Rainbow. This is the kind of fish that keeps anglers coming here. This is a Big Fish river, and not a numbers river. But being able to catch a half dozen like this in a day will keep you coming back.
Brown Drake in the corner pocket…..
Mike wasn’t close and this one was too big to try and lift with one hand, so I popped the fly out, and dipped the leading edge of the net below the water to watch him swim away.
OK !!!
I had renewed enthusiasm. I looked at the fly. It was OK too. I blew the water off and renewed the floatant again. I looked for another holding area. I found one. I didn’t see anybody home this time, but sent the fly on it’s way with hope. The fly drifted down the current seam next to the bank. Something brown came out and pulled it under. This guy had strength too. I saw the fish flopping back and forth under the water. He was trying to pop the fly loose or snap the tippet. I moderated the pressure as he struggled. With that not working he decided to head for the middle of the river. He bolted out below me and swam into the main current in the middle. I got below him and let him wear himself out there. I was in control and he tired. Working against the current and my rod was too much. It was easy to scoop him up as he came back to me.Here was a solid 19″ Brown. Thick and healthy. I tired lifting this one for a selfie, but it didn’t work out…..
As I’ve said before; one is luck, two is coincidence, three is a pattern !!!
The next fish came off the gravel bar…..
A modest Rainbow.
The fifth came at the very top…..Sometimes things start work out as you had imagined they could…..
Check out those spots……
From there I started working up the river bank above. There were plenty of boulders to provide resting and ambush spots. I was pumped now and expecting fish to come out of everyone of them. Of course they didn’t, but I was ready if they did. And some did…..
Another solid Brown…..
Most of the Browns found here sport a iridescent blue patch on their gill plates, and they were beautiful !
I could get used to this !!!Not too much further up another Brown streak out of nowhere…..
Not bad,… not bad at all !!!
I sat down on the bank. My Brown Drake was chewed up. Time to change it out for another.
Again these guys were crawling over everything.
Just for the fun of it I put on a foam Salmonfly.
I worked up this bank and finally had a decent fish commit. The struggle was brief and I had him in the net. I popped the fly out and reached for my camera. This fish had other ideas and jumped out of the net. Oh well it was much like the last one anyway. I kept working upstream and now I was at the upper fence.
Here the river was driven into the bank from the middle of the valley. You can see an eddy forming next to the slough. I knew there had to be some fish there. I cast the foam fly out and let it circle around in the eddy. I could see trout come up to look and then turn away. Several times fish looked but didn’t eat. Finally one came up and slapped at the fly. I had tension in the flyline for a moment, but only a moment.
It had been a good piece of water. I put 8 fish in the net here. That’s pretty good for this river and I was satisfied.
I turned downstream to look for Mike. As I walked down the bank I could see Mike working that same piece of water where all my catching had started. I sat down and watched for awhile, but nothing rose for him. I told him I needed to get back to camp and drive to Pagosa. It was Saturday Night and I had to check out of the condo tomorrow morning.So back to Mogote and campsite #15. I told him I was planning to go up to Wyoming, but this day had changed my plans. I would return to fish another couple of days with him here on the Conejos. If this day was any indication, we may have just hit the jackpot, and I wanted to play the string out…..
So I pulled out of Mogote and headed up La Manga Pass. All 10,230′ of it
Most of the switchbacks were marked 25mph. This place must be a horror in the winter covered with snow and ice.
Looking down into the Los Pinos basin…..On the other side the Cumbres Toltec was chugging up the pass…..
It’s one of the few steam narrow guage railroads still running…..
Then on to Chama and again turn north for the last stretch to Pagosa…..
And yes it was raining on the west side of Wolf Creek Pass…..
No surprise there…..
Jimbo
Camping on the Conejos
My friend Mike had arrived and was down at the (Mogote) Campground on the lower Conejos. He called and said the Salmonflys were everywhere and I needed to come on down and fish with him awhile.
Now I have fished the Conejos several times over the years. Below Platoro there is definitely Big Fish potential…..
But this is not a place where you can expect to catch 25 a day on drys. In fact over the years I’ve had only a few of many days where I reached double digits. Those times were during a good Green Drake hatch. We were here last June during the Salmonfly hatch. It was 10 days into the emergence when we first fished it and we did not catch a single fish on top when there were 10’s of thousands of adult Salmonflies in the air, on the water and crawling on everything else. So I did have my doubts, especially since this emergence was so late in the year.Nonetheless, Mike is a long time friend and just fishing anywhere with him would be nice. So I cleaned up my truck, did some laundry, organized my camping gear, and loaded up. The next day I would drive from Pagosa to the campground. Where that campground, not named by him at the time, was another story. Mike had said it was the first campground you came to on the Conejos. With no cellphone or internet service there was no way to get any specifics. I decided to just wing it, I mean how difficult could it be ?
Since I was still technically staying at the Wyndham I would leave a bunch of stuff in the Condo and just take what was essential.
Of course my definition of essential may be a bit more than necessary. There’s still 8 of 18 flyrods back there.
Headed down the road to the Conejos. Now Mike said it was the first campground you come to going up the Conejos. Now I assumed that was off the forest road and since there were no national forest campgrounds down low on the forest road I decided to go over Stunner Pass since it was shorter and look for him as I went down the FR.
Rain, rain, and more rain…..
Nothing like driving over a forest road that has had a lot of the dirt washed away leaving the exposed and embedded rock that will try and shake every bolt and nut loose.
Some places creeks had washed over the road…..
Over the top…..
And headed down…..
In case you forgot it’s Monsoon season…..
So now the trick was to find which campground Mike was staying in. This would result in multiple stops, getting rained on, talking to campground hosts, scratching my head, and continuing on to the next campground. So I made it all the way down to Hwy 17 without finding Mike. Now going down Hwy 17 towards Antonito and looking for campgrounds. Aspen Glade, nope….. and finally the last one Mogote. The camp host Jeff said he had a Mike staying at #15. So I drove in and sure enough there he was……
Well there you go, home for a couple of days.
Day 1
Guess how long we got to fish?So mike sleeps in the Lexus. He has a nice mattress setup in the back with the rear sets folded. For the first couple of days I would be sleeping in the storage tent. A little rearranging of the things stored there, my air mattress, and sleep bag fits right in…..
Mike had set up a tarp to cover the entrance and offer some shelter from the storms. But the wind had torn the grommets out of the corners (the orange one) and it was no longer functioning. So I went into town and purchased another tarp (the blue one). Mike also is no boy scout and his knots were more akin to tangles than something you can depend on to hold. So I showed him the basics: lashings, truckers loops, and two-half hitches to keep everything in place. Unfortunately the tarp itself was a thin cheap thing and I could see it failing also. I rolled and cut slits in the orange one and used it for a back wall. The new blue one went up overhead. Along with a couple nice pieces of willow, capped with a Gatorade bottles, and volla’…..
What it looked like when finished…..
This really is a great campsite. We had an outhouse just about 30′ away and in the other direction a potable water faucet.
Along with a big picnic table and fire ring with grill this place was SWEET !!!!
So it’s now about 11am and we are burning daylight. We had a new moon so the bite should be in the middle of the day anyway. I grabbed my Scott Radian 9′ 5wt. organized my vest with all the right fly boxes and we headed off for an access along the Hwy and in the special regulations zone. Mike had fished here with a guide a few days back and said he had caught 6 or 7. Of course Mike has an unusual method of accounting. When he says a certain number you can assume a couple of those did not actually make it to the net. Any spectacular fight that results in a fish staying pinned for 5 seconds or more may be counted as a caught fish. So you never really know. I think this is also why he never takes any pictures. He told me if he had a camera he would take some pictures of the day and even some of me, so I gave him my old camera, now used for backup. That was about 4 months ago while fishing on the Guadalupe in Texas. Best I can figure he left it in a storage unit back in Austin and I’ve only seen it used once.
So we drove down the Hwy to a pulloff he pointed out.
There we grabbed our gear and hopped over the fence. Mike confirming, “Dis is da Place!’This is at the upper end of the special reg waters so we headed downstream to a bend where they had success.
Here Mike was fishing where they had hooked most of their Trout. I looked at the water and I could see what they liked. It wasn’t long before Mike had the first fish on. This was a good one. It had his 5wt. bent into a loop. He took his time and played this fish skillfully. As it came close I could see it was a Cuttbow. After several close passes I was able to net this fish for him.
That’s one happy camper…..
I worked upstream along the bank. I was throwing my usual attractors.
I landed 3 Browns with this one being the largest….I was removing the fly when the first loud clap of thunder rolled through the valley. Sure enough a storm was rolling down the river towards us. I reeled up and watched the storm. No doubt about it, it was headed for us, and the lightning was coming down. Time to get out of here. When we got back to the truck it wasn’t even 1 pm. We’d been on the river for about 1 1/2 hours. The skys opened up and it poured for hours. Day 1 fishing was over !
Back at our camp we sat under the blue trap and drank a Malbac I’d brought. That’s part of the arrangement. He took care of the campsite and firewood expenses. I brought wine, bourbon, and extra food. The first meal was chili and chips. The night came, the clouds cleared, and this moonless night sky was amazing. We told stories and counted satellites passing overhead. I think we counted 5 that first night.
Jimbo
More Hidden Waters
Joe had one more day off before he had to start guiding again. Being a local he knows every nook and crannie around Pagosa. He is constantly showing me places that are public lands and yet little used. Today he would take me to another one such site. This is a creek on public lands, but between two ranches. If you don’t know how to enter this water you’ll never know it’s even there. Joe knows…..
So we met up again and headed for this hidy hole. I’ve driven right past this water before not knowing it was public.
Joe’s driving and we pull over off a forest road just past a ranch’s fence. Then we head down into the creek’s valley.After some couple of hundred feet down we come out and get the first look at this creek.
This little gem has it all. It’s mainly Browns with a few Cutts, Rainbows, and Brookies.
Joe let me go first. I was sporting a Sage 576 LL for this trip.
I thought to myself this looks like Wilcox Special water and I wasn’t wrong about that.I caught a couple of little Browns on the drop.
It was a good start.
From there Joe took his turn.
He too caught his first Brown of the day in this stretch….
This day pretty much played out this way over and over.
I’d take a turn and catch one or two.
Joe would take his and do the same.Here some of the scenes and action.
A beautiful medium sized creek.
Most of the fish were Browns about 6-12″.
Since the fish were pretty much the same, here a bunch of the water they live in…..
Wouldn’t you like to step in these waters and make a cast or two?
I switched to a purple Chubby every now and then and it worked just fine too…..
It sprinkled on us on and off. When it did Joe did better with a dropper…..
Bent rods are a good thing…..
One of the better Browns…..
We both caught double digits, well into double digits.
Every fish I caught was a Brown except for one little Cutthroat.
Joe caught all Browns except for one Rainbow.
The day slipped away and we hardly noticed till we came upon this spot.I had a good Brown come up on my fly, but didn’t take it. I let Joe step in with his dry/dropper.
The fish came up and smashed his dry.Best Brown of the Day!
Taken on a dry ! Yes Sir !
I like to think I got that fish all excited with the Chubby and Joe stepped in and closed the deal.
Joe told me I had one more chance to best that Brown.
Well it was time to make our way back to the truck. The easiest way out was to climb the ridge on our side.
Walk down the bench….
And then went we reached our starting point…..
Go back down to the creek, cross it, and up the other side to the truck.
It had been another wonderful experience. Hidden waters wedged down between private ranches, but on public lands. This is what it’s all about. Finding these sweet spots and catching a bunch of Trout on drys.
It’s good to be alive !!!!!Jimbo
A few hours on the Ranch
While fishing on the Cutthroat Creek with Joe, he asked if I would help out with a “Survey by Rod” on the lower end of the East Fork Ranch. The East Fork is a private ranch in Joe’s Scared Waters Leases. Seems the high water from runoff had really changed the lower end and that with the flows finally dropping he was interested in seeing first hand what kind of fish the lower end was now holding.
He was busy in the morning and it was after noon before he called and said,
“Meet me at the Cabin”.
So I loaded up a few rods and essentials in the truck.
Turning off the highway and heading up the East Fork road I was greeted with more Monsoons.Not surprising, my GoreTex jacket was going to see more use today.
Arriving at the middle part of the valley…..
Most of the heavy stuff was further up the valley. I looked around for Joe and he had not arrived yet. I drove back down the valley and found Joe driving up. We put everything in his truck and parked it at the cabin. From there we grabbed our gear and headed down to the lower boundary to fish upstream.
It was already raining. Nonetheless I was going to fish my dryfly attractors, Joe would fish a dry/dropper and also fish with a nymph rig. Here Joe fished for some time with his nymphs.
He decided to change things up and I jumped in with a Chubby. Almost immediately a nice Rainbow come up and smash the fly. He bolted downstream with me running the bank to keep below him. I was able to get close to this fish while still a bit green and scoop him up in my net.
Not a bad start at all !!!
I continued on up the run. I had another fish come up and grab the fly but didn’t stay pinned.
Joe was ready now. He mixed things up using his dry/dropper first and then nymph the same area to see what was going to work. Of course the light rain was not helping the dryfly bite at all. Here he is nymphing…..
And he scores…..
This is not what the ranch is famous for, the average fish caught here is 16-18″, and plenty of really big fish; Rainbows, Browns, and Cutties over 20″ are normally part of everyday’s catch.
We were moving through the water fast…..
The ranch was not really showing what it is capable of today. Blame it on the weather…..
Nonetheless…..Another fish that took his nymphs.
Most of the time these fish readily come up for flys on the surface, but not so much today.
The nymphs, a jimmy legs and tung teaser, were working, but here Joe scores with a Chubby himself…..
Joe hooked up and running downstream…..
And the payoff…..
Joe suggested I tie on a dropper. I told him I would stick to my dryfly as he was covering the subsurface just fine.
Violet just wanted to see more fish !!!!Yeap, doubled up on the chubby again…..
And another Rainbow…..
This one with a bad left eye.
Seems Joe is doing most the heavy lifting here…..
Again hooked up on the nymphs again. Joe showing how to get downstream and below the fish……
The net is deployed…..
This is an unusual day on the East Fork. If it had been a sunny day, dryflys would be all you needed. But today most the fish were caught on nymphs.
Here Joe nymph fished.
We saw a couple fish cruising around but not responding to his nymphs.
Joe told me to “Go get’em”
So I stepped in and worked the eddy…..I cast and let the fly work the backside of the eddy next to the bank. It took a couple of casts, but on one of the casts, the fly made the circuit up the bank and then out next to the current seam and downstream. The trout came to the surface and took it without hesitation. This one dug down deep. I could feel it rubbing against the gravel bottom. I kept moving downstream and applying lots of pressure. It finally turned downstream and I was waiting…..
This was just my third fish of the day. Most places 3 fish over 16″ on drys in about an hour and a half ain’t bad, but on the East Fork, this is considered a very slow day.
Joe works the last stretch…..
The rain was really coming down now. We had worked most the water Joe wanted to see and with hail starting to come down, it was time to go. This is the third time I fished here and by far it was the poorest result. Even with our best effort you can’t always make them bite. That’s the way it goes sometimes. Two good fishermen working this fabulous water and disappointing results.
Jimbo
Making up for Lost Time
Joe called me and said he had some time for fishin’ the next couple of days.
“Would you like to come along?”
“Absolutely!”
Like there was any other possible answer.So he called me the next day and we were off to one of his secret waters.
Today we would be fishing a tiny little creek close to the spine of a mountain range in the Weminuche Wilderness and National Forest. It held mainly Browns the last time he fished it. It is your typical steep plunge pool tangle of fallen trees. Perfect for a short rod, roll or bow and arrow casting, along with some high-sticking. One thing for sure, it was not fished often, and maybe not even a single time since he was last here.
It took some time to locate the trickle of a creek we would be fishing.
Finally we found it…..We parked the truck and geared up.
Now we were going to fish the creek below. First we needed to bushwack our way through the forest to the point we would fish or way back up to the truck. So down into the forest we went…..
Of course we are in the wilderness, which means we are not the only ones using this forest…..
Yeap, that’s exactly what you think it is !!!! Fortunately I did not see any bits of graphite or anodized aluminum in this pile.
It took a while before we hiked down far enough to start up the creek.
It didn’t take long…..
Nice !!! A Cutthroat !!! Even Better !!!
Last time he was here he only caught Browns. The Cutts were much higher up, but today it would be all Cutts. We talked about this and maybe this year’s big runoff pushed everything downstream. We guessed the Browns were now somewhere at lower elevation and the Cutts now occupied this water. Most of this water was jammed up with fallen timber. There would be a lot of scrambling around, over, and under the timber to get in position to get our flys on the water.This is the kind of place where we take turns fishing and watching the other fish. There were plenty of Cutts to catch too. Most were rather small in the 5-8″ range with a few to 11′ or so, but fishing for natives in their native ranges makes everything perfect!
We took tons of pictures and here are some of them…..
Here you can plainly see Willow and her daughter Violet.
These two dogs love to come along and watch us fishing. They are very well mannered and generally do not interfere with us while stalking, casting and fighting the fish. They do like to get an up close look at them after we’ve landed them.
Then there were the ones Joe took of me going up the creek…..
Joe fishes Fenwick fiberglass rods on many of these tiny creeks. I think this one was a 6 foot 5wt. They are perfect for bow and arrow casting in tight quarters. I was fishing a Loomis GL3 6 1/2′ 3wt. I really like this little rod myself.
It was not uncommon to catch several Cutts out of the same pool…..
I really love this kind of water beyond reason.
I mean I know other places that are much easier to fish. Not so much climbing, and scrambling up and down slopes to position myself for a cast at these little fish. But there is also the feeling that you are touching something virtually undisturbed. Something that has not martially changed since the beginning. And that is special to me.
Here is an especially beautiful piece of water…..
Finally we reached the point where the little creek narrowed to an impassable tangled gorge and we worked our way back up to the truck. Of course on the way out we were reminded again that we are not alone in the forest.
There are a lot of Black Bears up here and it is good advice to carry bear spray at all times.
We both lost count at the numbers we caught, but my number was well ahead of 25 and Joe more than that.
There maybe a time in the future that this kind of fishing is too much for these old legs, but for now I am still climbing up and down these mountains to immerse myself into the land and waters the way they used to be.Jimbo
East Fork of the Piedra
I hadn’t been to the East Fork in a number of years. The East Fork is unique in that above the Piedra Falls there is a strain of Colorado Cutthroats that has been so isolated over the centuries that the Cutthroats up there are considered a unique strain of Colorado Cutthroat. Some of you may have also heard about the recent discovery of the San Juan strain of Colorado Cutthroat that was considered lost. Well these are something different again.
In the past I have fished this stretch up to the falls and caught some of these Cutthroats. I have even thought about climbing up the steep cliffs there to get to the East Fork above the falls, but it is one of the most strenuous climbs around here. There is about 500 feet going up 45 degrees or more, then another 1000 feet or so before it levels out. Then it requires about another 2 miles or so before you get above the canyon section leading to the falls. This is not something normal people do without making it a overnight backpacking trip. It is something I always wanted to do, but have not gotten around to the attempt yet.
Today I would drive to the trailhead and fish my way up to the falls.
I loaded up with a couple of light rods and headed up Piedra Road.Of course the monsoons were building early.
The closer I got to the trailhead the worse it looked…..
Right in the center of the picture is the East Fork cutting through the cliffs.
At the trailhead it looked better.
It seems most of the rains were really over in the mountains above and not down below the falls.I put on my boots, grabbed my vest and Sage LL 4711.
It’s a crystal clear stream that looks healthy. I started casting and expected something to rise to my Chubby right away, but it didn’t happen that way. I hadn’t gone far when the first raindrops began to fall.
I looked skyway and wondered if this was going to be over before I had really spent much time on the water.
Well it turned out just be a passing band. and it stopped! Yea !!!
Not too much farther up the river I came upon this pocket.I thought I saw something flash below my fly. A few more casts revealed nothing more.
Just above the little drop there was a perfect piece of slack and shaded water underneath some willows.I put myself into position. Using a sidearm cast I was able to keep the fly low and curl it under the overhanging willows. The fly landed a few inches from the bank and drifted downstream into the shade. Then it was pulled into the slack water and a nose poked through the surface. I strip set and the rod loaded up. The fish darted out into the current. It wasn’t as big as I first thought…..
The little Brown must have been eating it’s Wheaties and working out.
Well it was a start !
The Skunk is Off !!!Wading upstream looking at all the good looking holding spots, I could imagine catching double digits easily.
Not too fast there Jimbo…..
Turns out that this river was in trouble.
Later back in Pagosa I talked with Pops about the East Fork. The last two years of drought before this year’s El Nino, the East Fork had been dry below the rancher’s diversion. He said some others had fished this water and come up empty. He suspected that by the fall more fish would come up from the main stem of the Piedra and start filling back in these spots. It’s a shame but that’s what happens up here from time to time.
I decided to hustle up to the falls and look at the deep holes up there. There had always been fish holding there.
I took to the trail and shortly I was there.
The Falls were really pouring over the precipice.
I looked into the pools and saw no movement. I cast several different flys and moved no fish. I was frustrated again! There was still time left to fish other nearby waters, so back down the trail I went.
Back at the truck I knew of several places close by. In fact I crossed the Middle Fork of the Piedra on the forest road leading to the Falls trailhead. So back down the road I went. I crossed the bridge on the Middle Fork and turned in to look at the river.
Looks good enough to give it a go and it didn’t take long…..
A nice little Brown and there would be more….
This is small water and small fish are to be expected….
And they were biting…..
I am amazed at how strong these little guys can pull when they have current to work with…..
I bet there is a fish right there…..
I’m right…..
And this one is a genuine Colorado Cutthroat…..
There were enough to reach double digits. But the trip up the East Fork had eaten up a lot of time. It was getting late in the afternoon and here in the canyons the surrounding ridges brought darkness before the sun was down. Time to head back to the truck.
That’s a BIG Beaver that can cut a tree that high !!!
There is something special about the Piedra and the mountains here…..
It’s terrible when a fishery is put through so much stress. Put like I’ve said before, you can’t make it rain and you can’t make it stop. This year’s wet weather should have provided good spawning habitat for those Cutthroats that were still present. This fall the Browns should do well also. So really it’s just a matter of time before this fisheries rebound.
And I will be back !Jimbo
I Guess you can call me stubborn…..
Back in Pagosa I studied my maps and then google earth. There was a lake to the east and I knew there must be some kind of an approach from downstream. The distance from the lake to the mouth of the creek was some 3 miles or so. There, that’s the plan drive to the lake and hike up from there.
Up with the sun I was ready to make the second assault on this Cutthroat Creek.
You know you’re in the right place when you can see a fishing rod in the gun rack thru the rear window of the pickup truck just ahead of you.
On the way up I drove by North Clear Creek Falls.
With this year’s high flows I couldn’t resist looking at them just a 1/4 mile or so off the highway.Although the height of the drop was not mentioned, I would guess you’re looking at about 120 feet.
There is something like a trail down to the bottom, but I wouldn’t want to take it.
Well time to get going…..
The creek below looked fishable…..
I arrived at the lake.
It’s a good looking lake and the orientation board said there were Cutthroats in the lake.
I talked to some the anglers and boaters there. There was a trail on the south side of the lake a short distance for bank anglers, but it stopped short of half-way around it. To the north was a rock bank. I got out the binoculars and looked down that bank. It was a fairly steep rock scree and vegetated slope above that but no trail was observable. I walked down and talked to some boaters. They reported seeing no trail of any kind around the lake to the river and creeks above.Well there was the creek itself below the lake and alternatives are limited.
So down I go…..
The creek was generally wide and shallow. The water was warmer than you’d expect at this altitude, but cool enough to fish. Again I chose a light rod, but this time a Sage 4711 LL. Hopes were good that I would catch some little trout here. I would be wrong about that. I fished up the portion of the creek in that photo. I saw empty powerbait bottles. I fished up to a group camping out along the river.
They asked “Did you catch anything?”
“No I said.”
I thought it unusual as they could have asked how many I caught, but didn’t showing their own experience.
I asked them if they fished here.
They said “Yes, but couldn’t catch a thing.”
I walked up and out of the creek headed back to the truck. On the way I met a Father and his two sons who had been flyfishing and spin fishing.
I asked “Did you catch again thing?”
They looked up and all said, “Nope, and you?”Talk about being snake bit.
I decided to drive down the valley a bit and see if the results would be any different.It was a little bigger down here, so at least there were more possibilities.
I felt encouraged seeing this water. It’s not unlike many places I fish. Again I tried a half dozen reliable flys over prime holding spots. Nothing moved, I spooked no fish, I saw no fish. Again it should not be barren, but they are definitely in a foul mood. It’s hard to believe or even except it when fish get lock jaw. And every time they do it still blows my mind !!!
OK,… I’m whipped !!!
There’s a creek up there worth fishing and I can’t get to it.
The water I can get to, beats me every way I can be beat.
I couldn’t remember the last time I was skunked.
Now I Do……Jimbo
Let’s call it sight seeing…..
I wanted to spend some time fishing above Creede. I have fished a couple of creeks in the valley over the years, but I never found the Cutthroats I was looking for, so I would try again. So I studied my maps and revisited a couple of places I always wanted to fish the night before. I was up early as I wanted to stop in Creede at a Fly Shop and talk over my ideas with the proprietor.
Heading up the Rio Grande Valley.
Creede, a mining boom town, now a tourist mecca…..
I told you about Kip’s…..
And here is the Rio Grande Angler……
I entered and talked to the owner running the shop. I brought in my map and I talked about my plans. He said the creeks I wanted to fish above Rio Grande Reservoir were all but unreachable this year. The road over Storm Pass from Silverton was closed and the road up along the reservoir was difficult for even the best jacked-up 4X4s. First he asked how far I was willing to hike in and I said about 3 miles max. He looked at my map and pointed to another creek that he said was full of Cutthroats. I decided to give it a try.
So I headed up the hill…..
I turned off on a good Forest Road…..
From there I turned on to another FR marked 4X4. I should have asked about this back at the Fly Shop.
The closer I got to the floor of the valley the steeper the road became…..
From there the road only got more challenging. Now I’ve taken my 2WD Escape down some pretty difficult roads. It has ample ground clearance, great tires, but it’s only front wheel drive. I kept following the dirt track till I came to a creek crossing. I got out and looked at it. Here bedrock was exposed where the track went through the creek. The troubling part was my side was stair stepped down to the water, each step about 10-12″ and there were four of them. The other side looked OK. It was not the going across that concerned me. It was the coming back part. Tackling going back up those stair steps with wet tires……
I wish I had a picture of it, but trust me on this one.
I thought about the creek chock full of Cutthroats that was on the other side…..
Me out here in the middle of no where, no cell reception, and about a good 6-7 miles back to the “good” part of the forest road…..With everything being weighed,… Today I would have to turn back and abandon this adventure.
I could retrace my steps and have a look at the Rio Grande above the Reservoir and the two creeks there.
Maybe I would have a little time to fish there too.
First look at the Rio Grande below the reservoir.Rio Grande Reservoir is a large one…..
Winding my way along the northern shore….
Here’s the river above the reservoir…..
I decided to press my luck and continue on up the 4X4 road a ways further.
I came to this creek crossing. It more or less used the road for about 40 feet, but it wasn’t that deep, so I continued…..
Well the road got progessively worse.
There was no where to turn around even if you wanted to !!!
I finally arrived at this point on the 4X4 track.The Rio Grande Canyon is a deep and narrow one here. I could not count on the road getting any better. And since this was the first place I could turn around in quite a ways, it was time to admit defeat. I drove back down the track, crossing the small creek again without incident.
There was a small campground where Lost Trail Creek meets the Rio Grande on my side and access to the Ute Creek river crossing. I got out to look at the river.
Here Lost Trail Creek had washed away part of the trail.The river was really moving here.
At the Ute Crossing I met an older man and his great grandson. There were also his son and his brother’s son in full backpacking mode. They said they were going to cross to go on a week’s camping and flyfishing trip up the Ute Creek valley. I looked at the water and I looked at everyone. I spoke with the eldest man and said this does not look good. The river was really moving and both of them were carrying heavy packs for a multi-day trip. I told the elder that I would advise against them trying to cross. Now the grandson a 20 something, was a stout fellow. Some 6 foot plus and about 200lbs, very athletic looking. His uncle though, 50 something, about 5’*8″ and about 180. And him carrying an equally enormous backpack. The grandson went right in the river. It was about this time I suggested they lock arms for the crossing, but they said they would be alright.
The crossing here is fairly shallow to about half-way across, then it got deeper, and that’s where the heavy current would test them. The grandson made it to the swift water and struggled to negotiate it, but made it to the other side. His uncle took off and made to the swift water. It was over his waist. He started to freeze out there with the current breaking against his body. He finally attempted the next step. He lost his grip on the bottom. He spun downstream trying to regain his lost footing. It didn’t work and he went down. Fortunately there was a rather large rock in the middle which he was able to grab as he floated downstream. The grandson watching on the far shore quickly ditched his pack and went in after his Uncle. The edler, his great grandson, and myself held our breath watching this unfold. The grandson went charging into the water. He made it to his Uncle still clinging to the downside of the rock. There he was able to remove his uncle’s pack. In a feat of strength, which still amazes me, I saw him toss that pack, which the edler said weighed 70lbs, some 25′ to the bank. Then standing downstream of his Uncle, grabbed him by the shoulders, and stood him up against the current. Then they waded arms locked to the other side. I looked at the elder and the great grandson and in that moment of silence, we all knew how close that was. The two waved from the far bank, only soaked from the experience, donned their packs, waved, and were off. The elder and the great-grandson were visibly shaken. I said, “Well at least when they return the river will have gone down and it should be easier for them to get back across.” He said he hoped so.
They left and after looking at the river I decided to at least fish the Lost Trail Creek for a bit.
I went back to the truck and geared up. Walking back to the water I decided to start with the creek.The creek was not large, but it had gradent, and was moving too. I fished my way up several turns with my attractors. The going was difficult as most the edge was willow bound and impassable.
I came upon another lesson in nature.
Here a young fawn lay drowned. It too tried to cross this creek and was not up to the task. I would say this happened within a matter of days as it was not bloated or had any predator found and started to feed on it yet.
I finally found an opening in the willows and made my way to the bank. I looked around outside the main creek and found what I suspected would be there, an old braid. Here the water was moving much more slowly. I walked up beside it peaking in when I could. On one such peak, I saw a couple of Cutthroats in the bottom of a hole about 3 feet deep. The larger one was a male about 15-16″ I would say. I dropped back and pushed my way through the willows. There about 30 feet below them I slid into the water. I moved very slowly and did not spook these fish. Now in the middle of the creek I drew out enough line to get above them. I knew this would probably be a one and done thing. I would have to do a bit of a steeple cast, deliver the cast down a 4 foot wide open channel between the willows, and get the fly exactly above the larger fish. I steadied myself, said a little prayer, and prepared to cast. Everything could not have been better. The fly landed about 4 feet above the fish, it drifted straight back towards him. I took up the slack line as it drifted back. The Cutt saw the fly and slowly rose to surface to inspect it. Then it poked it’s nose through the surface, took the fly, and disappeared. I struck as soon as it started down…..
Sometimes no matter what you do,… it just doesn’t work out !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The fly came shooting back at me from below the surface. It hooked nothing but air.
I should have sunk the fly into it’s jaw. Now I don’t know I would have landed the fish in such confined quarters and root balls, but I would have surely expected at least a fight from everything I saw up to that point. Well those Cutts now knew I was there and promtly disappeared. I stepped out of the braid and walked a little further up. I saw no more fish. It was getting late and time to think about heading back.The drive back to Pagosa was full of “What Ifs”.
There are leaps of faith we all take.
Some times they work out and sometimes they don’t.Driving past this sizable overhanging rock is another one.
Fortunately this one worked out just fine.Jimbo
There are certain places I have come to discover over the years that deserve a bit of reverence. Places where the ecosystem is still as it was before man set foot on the North American continent. It’s almost like being able to step back in time. Something that people of my age have often wished they could do. Turn back the hands of time and again experience our youth again. A rejuvenation of body and spirit. This is one of those places.
I discovered this creek some 12 years ago. I was pouring over my topo maps looking for creeks close to the spine of the Rockies. There I knew I had the best chances at finding and catching native pure Cutthroats. I have returned to explore this creek at every opportunity. I have fished it from lower elevations to the continental divide. There are major waterfalls that protect the native Cutthroats from other species swimming upstream into the higher valleys. The upper 7 or 8 miles are nothing but native pure Cutthroats.
Today I would be returning to see how this years heavy snows had treated it.
I would be traveling up miles of forest roads to reach this creek. Roads that I have come to memorize over the years and I was becoming more excited as I got closer and closer. The remaining snow was more wide spread than I have ever seent up here this time of year…..
There was still heavy snow high on the ridges overlooking the valley……
And finally reaching my destination…..
Some of you probably know this creek. I have been keeping it’s name and location a secret for a long time. It is a small creek and fragile by it’s very nature. Years ago I rarely saw another human being up here. Every year I see more and more anglers and campers using this area. Even though I am also one of thse relatively newcomers to this valley, the more people that visit it, the more potential there is for it’s degradation. I fear for it’s future and I wish the CPW would put a catch and release designation on this creek. I could suggest other places up here that catch and release designations would really help.
I geared up and headed down to the creek.
Once there I could soak it all in. I made a few lazy casts upon the water. My fly drifted downstream uninterrupted.
I looked closer. There I could see fish paired up. Males chasing other males out of their claims. I could not tell exactly if they were spawn, or post-spawn. Whatever, I was here too early. When I was very young I might have gone on fishing here. Now I knew better and these fish should be left alone to help propagate the next generation. As much as I wanted to catch these Cutts, today I felt I must leave. There will be other times in other years. And I hope I will be granted the time to return again and cast my flys over these native Cutthroats. Forgive me for being a bit sentimental about this place. I am getting old and can wax poetically about places like this and the times I’ve spent there.So where now?
I’d used a good bit of time to get here. Thinking a moment, I knew another place. No time to waste.This is 5 mile park, the headwaters of Park Creek.
This place calls for a light rod as the quarry are likely small Brookies and maybe even a Cutthroat.
The Sage 279 LL was a perfect choice. I’ve fished here years ago and since it is mainly Brookies, I expected it to be much like I found it before…..I started off with a Little Yellow Sally. I had a few fish look and not take it. I didn’t have to think about my next choice long,…. Wilcox Special.
Yeap, it was right on the money !!!
This place was a good consolation. It was just as I remembered it.
Most of these fish would be small 6-8″ If I was lucky I would catch one 10″ or more.
They are very colorful Char. They are also the fish that takes over the reaches of streams that should be full of Cutthroats up here. So it is a bittersweet experience for me. But I can’t snap my fingers and change the world, noone can. And not all of the native ranges of Cutthroats can be reclaimed, so it must be enjoyed for what it has become.
There’s also other critters that enjoy this meadow…..
I’m glad he isn’t around right now.
Everything was so green. The sun shown down and all was well.
Take the rod and try it yourself…..
There you go…..
A very dark speciem…..
Not too much wind…..
Just enough to make you concentrate so as to get the fly on the water…..
moving quickly now…..
Fish after fish…..
Just a few more…..
And that one makes 40.
Time to bug out and get back to town for some dinner.
Across the road from where I parked the truck is this sign…..
Look closely just below the arrow…..
There I left a Wilcox Special for the next person to use.
I hope you will have the same degree of luck with it.Jimbo
