Jimbo
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1) The amount of the food available to the fish is dependent on habitat. And the main limiting thing right now is flows, or the volume of water the fish and the insects and prey fish have to occupy. So, the low flows have a more complex impact other than just temperature on the health of the game fish in the river. More flow increases the area and volume of the aquatic habitat everything from the smallest Midges to the largest Stripers can exist and multiply. It also increases the dissolved oxygen as it tumbles and moves downstream. Higher flows also work to remove silt in the river, allowing for more pore space in the streambed gravel, and thus increased areas and populations for the insects and small prey fish that live there.
When the flows are low and by that I mean below about 100-150cfs, the river has a limited capacity to sustain the top predators, like the Trout. So, feeding them during the summer when temperatures are high, especially when flows are low, the Trout are under a lot of stress. The higher water temperatures mean the fish metabolism is also running at higher level and they need more calories to sustain themselves. The feed is a very high calorie supplement that provides those calories and then some. You can see just how fat and healthy the survivors are in the fall after feeding them through the summer.
Should we feed them all year? That is a question we have not addressed. The supplemental feeding certainly keeps their stomachs full and they become accustomed to the size and timing of those feedings. Anyone who has tried to fish after the morning feeding are over, knows they will strike flys less frequently than on the day no feeding occurs. Now during the actual feeding, they are whipped into a frenzy and will hit flys floating in the feed itself. During the colder months, as water temperatures fall, the fish seem to do better because the metabolisms slow down and they need less calories. We also seem to have better hatches of Caddis and Mayflys during the winter and spring. It might help to feed the fish some during the winter and maybe the Fishery Committee should discuss this and talk to the board about it. I will bring up the subject this season.
2) Stream improvement projects were proposed decades ago. It is quite complicated as the river is controlled by the CORE (Army Corps of Engineers) and GBRA, with TPWD supporting. You can not just move some rocks around and permanently change the stream bed in any way without the approval of the CORE and GBRA, because Canyon Lake is primarily a flood control project. Thus, the primary function of the Canyon Lake Dam is to control flows downstream to prevent flooding of the areas adjacent to the river. Delivery of water downstream for agricultural or municipal use and power generation are secondary, with river biology falling behind everything else.
The first things we did accomplish to improve the Fishery were limited harvest regulations and the Flow Agreement. Both of these success’ have helped increase the possibility and realization of a Trophy Trout Fishery. That and with a strategy of the size and numbers of Trout we stock has greatly improved the fishing for Trout in the Guadalupe.
The question of what species of Trout to stock has never definitively decided. We are still playing with the idea that Brown Trout might be better at providing a self-sustaining Trout fishery. But so far, they have not been, and we don’t really know why. We do know that excessive siltation and other river predators have been a limiting factor on natural reproduction. We have stocked Brown Trout in the past of varying sizes, but they do not seem to hold-over as well as out specialized temperature tolerant Rainbow Trout from Crystal Lake Fisheries. Chris Johnson is spearheading a Whitlock/Vibert Box planting of Brown Trout eggs in an effort to see if a born in the river Brown Trout can establish a reproducing Brown Trout population or even a viable population of catchable Brown Trout.
GRTU proposed several stream improvement projects decades ago, primarily to better the habitat for the benefit of the Trout. We actually did get approval for the movement of aquatic plants into the upper river after the 2002 flood to restore the plants lost during the scouring flows.
We also proposed the stabilizing if the banks of Spillway Creek with willow trees to prevent excessive sedimentation from entering the river. That has been on hold for approval forever.
We also proposed a streambed modification in the Potts area, to prevent excessive impacts of high air temperatures on the river’s water flowing there and then affecting water temperatures downstream and limiting the preferred temperatures/habitat for the Trout downstream. We went so far as measuring flows vs stream width (most know how shallow and slow the water moves because the river is so wide there) and using ground penetrating sonar/radar to measure the depth of the gravel and bedrock in the area. The idea was to create structures that would naturally narrow and deepen the channel to speed the volume of water there and lessen higher air temperature impacts. Again, the base work was done, but approval to proceed was never given.
So, GRTU has been thinking about many things to improve the Habitat, better the survival, and even natural reproduction of the Trout populations in the Guadalupe. But it’s all the red tape that has held us back. Now these projects are still on our minds and when possible, we will do what is allowed to make the Guadalupe River a better Trout Fishery.
Jimbo
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“Just Fizzling Out”
I’ve decided to head to Montana to visit some friends in Bozeman. I haven’t been there in many years and I needed to reconnect with them. Doing this meant this would be mu last day in Wyoming and my last day fishing. I decided to some of the creeks on the east side of the Wyoming Range. This is a 2 1/2 hour trip, so I needed to get going ASAP.
The Snake River….
Starting down along the Hoback….
The Northern Edge of the Huge 61,000+ acre Rossevelt Fire that burned in the fall of 2018…. I was there that September. I remember coming over Rim Station and looking down into the Upper Hoback and the entire valley was ablaze rim to rim…. A Red-Orange Flaming Hell…. It burned till the snows of October put it out.
The Wind River Range on the eastern skyline….
Looking at the east side of the Wyoming Range….
I arrived and wanted to fish the lowest reaches of this creek where the national forest boundary begins….
Unfortunately, a line of storms was also arriving and moving east over the valley. Maybe it would pass over before the heavy stuff came down. So, I geared up as fast as I could and started for the creek. I didn’t make it even half-way there. Big cold raindrops began to fall. It started to hail on me about the time I made it back to the Bronco.
There was a lot of Lightning and Thunder. It rained and hailed for almost an Hour.
I ate my Jelly and Peanutbutter Sandwich and read more of “No Shortage of Good Days”.When the rain stopped, I got out and looked around. It had soaked everything pretty good.
I grabbed my vest, flyrod, and headed for the water.
The water was still crystal clear.
I hustled down excited to fish here again.
The water looked great. I fished for a long time without a strike.
I began my fly rotation to look for something they would bite.
But something was wrong….
I covered a lot of water and didn’t see a fish, didn’t spook a fish, nothing.
I started walking through some of the deeper holes to see if I could scare something up?
But nothing showed….So, I got out and jumped upstream.
Again, I covered a lot of water with nothing to show for the effort.
I was really getting discouraged….
I might even get skunked !!!!
Then I saw some little fish occsionally coming to the surface.
There were Caddis on the water.
So one went the Black Caddis I used yesterday….
The skunk was off !!!!
I caught a few more Brookies in this hole, none bigger than this one.
Then the stopped rising.I moved upstream and looked for any sign of more rising Trout.
I saw a couple dimples along the left bank here….
At least this one’s a Cutthroat. I cast again where the rising had been, and I caught another little Cutt.
But just the two….Moving in the fading light….
There were a few fish rising here too….
And just like the other spot, I landed 2 little Cutts.I moved up, but found no more rising fish.
I switched back to a small Chubby, but it was no use.
Time to take the long hike back to the Bronco.
This is another creek that when I first started fishing here was loaded with Cutts 10-14″ and I landed honest 20″ Cutts here.
The first 7 or 8 years I came back they still fished well. Then the long-term Droughts started and hit the east side of the Wyoming Range pretty hard.I talked to a biologist a few years back about what was happening. She was stocking Cutthroat in the upper La Barge Creek. She said these creeks bottomed out. I asked if they were going to try and restock and restore the creeks, but she said there were no plans for it yet. That was about 4 years ago. Today, I caught 3 Brookies and 4 Cutthroat, none bigger than 6″!!!! I would say that they are still bottomed out and need some attention.
Too bad this would be my last day flyfishing here.
The thought crossed my mind I should return to some of the better waters I fished when I first arrived in Wyoming this year….
But I had already told my friends I was coming.
Also, I had already spent more money than I planned.
I can’t always end a fishing trip on a high note.
But that’s OK, I did have many Good and few Great Days.
I fished new waters and found a lot of Trout there.
I fished old friends and most of them were doing fine.
And some in Colorado were actually the best they’ve ever been.
Yeap, I needed to head to Bozeman for a few days, to have some fun and fatten up.
I will say that I had the best Steak I have maybe ever eaten at a place called “The Local” in Belgrade
Be sure to go there if you are ever in the neighborhood and get a Ribeye.-
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“What’s in a Name?”
Saturday came, it was going to be a wash out….
This is what it looked like at 10am.
The weatherman made the call, a cold front from the Pacific was moving through. It was supposed to rain most of the day.
Time to make the most of it….
It was also a big day in the Olympics. The US team was playing France in the Gold Medal round. It turned out to be a pretty good game. But Victor Wembanyama, the sensational San Antonio Spurs rookie, playing for France would not be enough. The game got real close in the closing minutes of the 4th quarter, but Stephen Curry put on a 3pt shooting display for all time (hitting 8 3pt. shots in the game), but the spectacular part was he hit 4 3pt shots in a row in the last 3 minutes of the game to put it out if reach and the US Team won the Gold Medal 98-87. He is the 3pt. G.O.A.T.Another line of storms moved through about 4pm, even meaner than those of the morning.
Sunday morning was bright and sunny, but I didn’t sleep so well. I was up most the night, slept a few hours, then woke up to see the sun come up.
I decided to eat some breakfast and try to sleep some more. I woke up the second time at noon. I was slow to get going. With some coffee my mind started to clear. I needed to fish somewhere close. I hadn’t been on the Little Greys for many years, why not today?I loaded up the Bronco and checked everything, I’m ready to go. I stopped at Burger King for something to eat.
Cheese Burger for the road….
I head north….
The historical marker in Alpine….
I turn on to Greys River Road again….
Then I turn on Little Greys Road….
There were quite a few fishermen fishing the lower end of the river, so I head up into the meadows….
Looks like a good spot….
I gear up with my Sage 490 XP.
I hadn’t fished it on this trip yet and I knew I would be leaving soon.I started to walk downstream a ways before looking for the water.
Satisfied I had plenty of the creek to fish up, even where the Bronco was presently parked, I worked my way down to find my starting point….
I see no hatches, so on goes a small chubby the size of the hoppers I’m seeing.
The fish are not ravenous. It takes some really good drifts over a lot of water, before I see them do more than just a closer inspection….
I find several in the same hole ready to eat….
This river is living up to (or is that down to) it’s name.
I am also regretting not bringing a very light rod, like my Sage 279 LL.
My 490 XP is what you might call, “Too Much Gun” for this water.This water up here is small and should be called a creek (Little Greys River).
The deeper pools are from a couple of feet to maybe 4 feet, but much of the water in between holes, is just inches deep. No need to spend much time on it.
I am walking the bank most of the way so to disturb what Cutthroat are here, as little as possible.
That’s more like what I expect from fishing the creek down closer to the Greys River.
It would be the exception though.I am beginning to see small caddis on the water….
I find a small Black Caddis, tie it on, and see if it will draw their attention.
Yeap, I’ve got too much rod for these fish.
Boy, I wish I’d brought the 2wt., this is the environment where it would excel !!!!
But you don’t change horses mid-stream. (Or should I say can’t, because the only other choice in the Bronco is my Scott 590)
I just need to not set too hard or I’ll launch these little guys clean out of the water.
And I do in places.
You can’t help, but to laugh at that.
Exempla Gata
Dragon, this is flight control, you are go for lift off….
T minus: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1,… Ignition, Lift-off, Dragon you are looking good and have cleared the flyfisherman….
I found in this run several that size that would take a skittering Caddis.
“Too Much Gun”….I came to this riffle/drop.
These fish didn’t like the caddis I was using.
It was a little big for those on the water.
So, I switched to a Missing Link in a smaller size….
They like it….
Several more liked it too.The day was fading fast.
I came upon this spot….
I think I caught 4 of 5 here, all about this size….
It’s cherry picking time….
In the run above the log, is a juicy little gravel bar run that drops steeply into a bank, and creating a nice little trough right next to the bank on the left side.
It’s a monster !!!!
It is maybe all of 9″….
Woooo Eeeeee !!!!Just minutes left to fish….
Seems 5-6″ is the average today.
Again, I catch several at all these last stops, but they are a little on the short and light side of desirable….
Was it the day? Maybe the big fish are far smarter?
When I fished the creek years ago, lower down in the valley, closer to the Greys, I caught fish that averaged less say 8-12″ and a couple maybe an inch or so larger as I remember. All these fish today were a class below that. Maybe I am just learning more about this fishery?It is what it is.
Seems the Little Greys River, this far up, is more aptly classified as a nursery.
And living up to it’s name.
Time to point it home for the day….-
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“A Special Place”
The smoke moved into the eastern Wyoming area from the fires in Oregon and California. I was pretty beat-up and tired from 3 weeks of fishing, so it was a good time to take a break. I bought a large pizza from Pizza Hut: Italian Sausage, tomato, onion, and extra sauce, picked it up, and watched the Olympics all day back at the room. It was also a good time to pick up some groceries, get some laundry done, and repair some flys. I pulled out my Renzetti vise and replaced some rubber legs on attractor flys…. These Cutthroats are such leg grabbers with the obvious outcomes!!!!
Local Color….
The next day the smoke was worse, so I spent the time, going through my vest, changing out some fly boxes, to prepare for tomorrow.
Late in the afternoon, being a little stir crazy, I got out and drove over to one of the Salt River public access sites.
Studying the map, I see they have made a change. Wyoming is one of the those states, where if you own the land on both sides of the river, you also own the bottom of the river. You can’t access that section even if you entered at a public access. You can float it, but technically, you can’t touch anything, not a blade of grass on the bank, you can’t bump a piece of driftwood embedded in the river, or even drop an anchor without being in violation of the law. Well, here is some good news…. They have negotiated with the land-owners, legal public access along the river between the public access sites here. Now you can legally fish, wade, and even walk the bank between the access sites here. Something to consider for the future.Friday came and I was up fairly early for me. The smoke had let up some, it wasn’t clear, you could still smell it in the air, but it wasn’t bad enough to wear a mask. So, I grabbed breakfast from the Burger King. Then I loaded up for the drive to the upper Greys River. This is a special place. A strong-hold for the Snake River Cutthroats and a place I love to fish. Now it’s a long drive via the highway and then the forest road which runs along it’s entire length. It takes a long time to get there from here as they say. Now if there was a 4X4 road that went due east from Afton, I could save more than hour at the very least, even if you could only go 10mph or so. The upper Greys where I like to fish is only 6 or 7 miles as the crow flies, but as they say, you can’t there from here. There are two ways to get there, and both take about the same time under optimum conditions. The longer route down to Alpine and up the forest road. The shorter, but much rougher route, is through the back-country and over the top of the drainage at the Tri-Basin pass, then down the river from it’s origin. It is shorter, but depending on the condition of the forest roads, which can get real bad when it rains and exposes more embedded rock in the road, it can be anywhere from about the same time to taking an extra hour. It is much more scenic and you pass by other waters worth fishing, but if you’re going to only fish the upper Greys, it’s not worth the risk.
So, I head south to Alpine….
Dad’s Bar in Thayne, a place I have stopped before on the way back….
The smoke as seen near Alpine….
A Christmas Tree farm….
There used to be a good fly shop here in Alpine, but they closed about 3 years ago. Really the nearest comprehensive Fly Shops are in Jackson or Pinedale now. There’s a little one here in Afton, but they don’t have much of a fly selection, and the remaining one in Alpine has even less. If you need floatant, a flyline, or some Rio tippet, which I don’t use, then you can get the basics, but if you want more than a Purple Chubby, Parachute Adams, or a Hare’s ear nymph, you probably won’t find what you want. It’s another reason I travel with my “Fly Vault”!!! An extra-large duffle with thousands of flys and just about anything I could want or need. In fact there is more in the duffle than either of those local shops, but sometimes it takes a hour to find it.I turn up Greys River Road. I am still over an hour from reaching the upper Greys from where I begin my fishing. There’s lots of people camping or RVing in the lower river. There are more Brown Trout down here too, but I almost never fish there. I drive to the Elk Wintering Grounds before I even think about fishing. I know that I am missing out on some larger fish down there, but I also haven’t come to nymph fish or swing streamers, I’ve come to fish dryflys. I know that sounds a little crazy, but I fish nymphs so much most of the year, I want to dedicate my time to fishing on top.
There is still plenty of water on the upper Greys I have not fished. Today I would start at one of those new stretches.
I put away my Winston Rod and pulled my Scott Radian 590. It is a rod that I have modified with a larger cork grip and is easier on my casting hand fishing it all day.
I gear up, and bust through some thick streamside willows, before breaking out into the Greys waters….
I begin the ritual, of looking for the right fly for the day. I start with attractors, as there is no hatch. I have a few Finespots come to look, but not really strike. I beginning to think the moon phase is really affecting the catching up here. I look at the Solar Lunar tables all the time, to see when the best time of day it is to fish. They also relate the relative strength of the bite day to day and we are now on the poor side of things. Still, these fish are Cutthroats, and opportunistic feeders, because they have to be to build up their fat reserves to get through the winters. That does not mean they will eat just anything either.I eventually put on the right size, pattern, and color, and have several fish on that I loose. In fact, I lost 3 before I landed my first and only fish in this reach, which I fumble trying to hold it up for a self-portrait….
And then Thor has arrived with his hammer, and the first few large cold drops come down. I put on my Gore-Tex and fish on for the moment….
This spot looks too good to pass up. But nothing rises in all this fabulous habitat, they are probably there, and the lightning is putting them down.
A heavy rain begins to fall. It’s no use trying to fish even a large attractor when the surface is so distrubed by the large cold drops and small hail. Time to retreat to the Bronco.I try driving further up the river to get out from under this storm. I find a spot where it’s now just a light sprinkle, pull over and wait it out.
After a little light reading of Gierach in the truck, the rain has quit. I get out and look around. It’s looking good off to the west.
I pull on my gear and head down to a familiar stretch.
If you’ve seen some of my past posts, you will recognize this water.
I have caught many fish here over the years, but I don’t raise one or see one here. I believe they are hiding somewhere, but I can find them. The storm with it’s lightning has certainly put them off for awhile. Not discouraged, disappointed maybe, but I know they live here, and it’s just a matter of time before I find a hungry one….
I fish for a good 30 minutes or more with no strikes or looks. At least I am casting well and enjoying putting the fly where I want it to go.
So, I will be sharp when I run across a Cutthroat.
Here was a good set up. deeper water running down the right bank, in the shadows of the willows. I am working the fly through the lower part of that bank, when something eager hammers the fly. The fish stays upstream. I wade downstream to pull it down from the remaining stretch. It all works out fine…
The first one…
I remove the hook, release the Finespot, and watch it swim off. It’s all better now and I feel that the catching has finally started.
And it has. I wade back up to where I caught the first one. I work the line out, covering a new piece of the bank in the shadows with each drift, take a few steps upstream and cast a little further up the bank. Systematically covering all the bank as best is possible.
And it works….
It’s a little bit bigger than the first one and beautifully marked.
Yes, this is a Special Place….Another perfect piece of water to fish….
Another willing participant….
The sun has come out in full force now. It provides a nice warmth in contrast to the cold water on my legs.
Cookie cutter Cutthroats….
All fine fighting fish in this fast water. The river up here never really relaxes up here. It’s constant moving at a good clip. It makes these fish strong and firm, fighting the relentless current. Thus, when they are hooked, the amount of stress they can put on tippets, rod, and your arm is impressive for their size.If you look at the last picture of the stream, you can see this drop in the back-ground way up there….
I took this picture of the water after I caught these next two fish. The first one was in the shallow slick on the right side of this run. I was about 40′ feet below when I started casting. I worked up till the fly was placed just a couple of feet below the riffle. He poked his head through and turned for the deeper water in the middle. I leaned back on the fish, trying to pull it away from the water I had not covered. It was a stand-off for some nervous seconds, then he relented came down towards me. I pulled the net and waited….
Very Nice….
Good enough for my Christmas Card….
Yes, I love this river !!!!I took a break for lunch. I slipped off the vest, my shoulders relaxed. A couple of long swigs of water to quench my thirst. Plop down on the river bank, and look around at the valley. It would be a great place to camp overnight and fish for a few days. But this trip was running out of days. I won’t do it this year, maybe someday.
I stretch out my legs and wolf down my Jelly and Peanutbutter sandwich. I consume an impressive number of calories to do this and still I loose and few pounds every year, while firming up my legs. I lay back in the deep grasses of the meadow. It’s as soft as my bed. I watch the passing clouds, and in my imagination I see birds and bears in their form. It’s a pleasant way to spend your time, just taking it all in, high in the mountains in another state, far away from home.After a time, relaxing and imagining things as the day drifts by, I need to get going again. I stand and stretch, clip my wading belt back on, sling on my vest, and pick up my rod for another go at it. I look back at the same drop where I caught the last Cutt.
I wade up into position to fish the left bank and fish the high bank in the shadows under the roots of that pine. It wasn’t the first cast, maybe not the second, but certain no more than the third when the Cutt took my fly.
What’s not to love about this place?I continue my relentless quest moving up this river.
I would say it’s a decent day on the water, not quite great, but none-the-less good enough….
If it were great most these spots would produce multiple Cutts, but I am catching, and I am satisfied with the results.
It’s not perfect. I lost a nice fish trying to get it in the net here.
But really that’s just par for the course. If you caught every single fish, would the experience be more? Or would the lack of suspense while fighting the fish, make the overall experience less exciting? I’m in the latter’s camp….And then the clouds starting coming over the western ridge.
Time for the Gore-Tex again.
With rain coming, not “if” but a “when”, it’s time to start cherry picking the water ahead.I hooked and lost another fish under that tree….
Maybe they are getting picky with the thunder rolling across the valley?
I move quickly to the next piece of prime lies….
I down-size my fly with that olive Chubby from the other day….
No more under that tree.It seems these fish really like a roof over their head today.
I put the fly upstream of this tree’s roots.
The fly drifts down, next to the bank, but as it approaches the holding spot, it swings out and away.
I need to make a commitment quick!
Using a side-arm cast, a little tug on the line to shoot the fly…. under the roots it goes, deep into the shadows….
The fly disappears back there somewhere….
I see water splashing and at the same time the line goes tight. I pull back with the rod low to the water. I see the fish jumping under the roots. It’s now or never, I pull back to the limits of everything and the Cutt comes out into the light. Now where I can see him, I let him swim around a little until I think I have the upper hand. Then with my net in hand, I pull the rod back over my shoulder and….
Another very nice fish, unfortunately the picture comes out a little blurry….
He…. Oops pardon me, she comes up with a bloody lip too….
But She’ll be fine.
Too often I call all fish hooked He or him, when half of them are She or her….
I guess I’m just a male chauvinist so and so….It’s getting dark now. The time between the flashes and the thunder is down to 10 seconds….
It’s past time to hike back to the Bronco. I going to get rained on, but it’s worth it everyday !!!!
I arrive and again, have no time to take my wading boots off in the driving rain.
It’s going to be an even longer drive back to Afton, but my Bronco is well suited for such a drive.This is a Special Place !!!!
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“And some Bad News from the other side of the Mountain”
As with most things, there’s some usually some bad things mixed in with all the good things one encounters.
Today’s target was one of the reasons I first came to this area to fish.
The home of a rare Cutthroat. A place they could grow large enough to be the stuff that dreams are made of….
I’ve caught them here to 23″ and had one on that would have been a fish of a lifetime for anyone.Over the years, the pressure has steady increased here, and it shows.
I’ve seen way too many tents in it’s valley, with too many anglers plying these waters.
It seems every year I see more and more men fishing here.
The last 4 or 5 years I have seen a steady decline in size and numbers.
Even the best habitats need some protection.
I’ve seen far too many fish on stringers.
Too many campfires with many outdoorsmen sitting around waiting for a fish dinner.If I had my way, I recommend making this place, catch and release only.
I know fishermen eating some of their catch has a long tradition.
But there is a time when reason must win over tradition.
Before there’s nothing left but the river.It’s quite a drive along highways….
Back roads….
And rough dusty forest roads before you can even catch a glimpse of it….
Then I arrive, park the Bronco where it won’t sink in the mud if a sudden heavy rain comes….I open up the back to gear up.
Today I would be using a new rod, a Winston AIR 2 590. It’s a beautiful rod. I’ve admired Winston rods most my life. When I first started fly fishing for Trout and called the Action Angler my home base, I looked at the blue-green rods in their rod racks. I would pick them up and flex them. They seemed to be a perfect combination of finesse and power, but they were out of my price range. These were the rods the wealthy fished and were more than two times the cost of the Fenwick rods I could afford and fished at the time. And over the years, they were always more expensive than the rods I could afford. Even when I graduated to Sage flyrods, they were still 50% more than what I was buying. And even then, I was buying blanks and building my own rods to save a little over retail and have something truly tailored for me. Now I can really buy anything I want, but I hadn’t come around to buying a Winston rod till now. I found this one on the internet and it was half-priced, so I scooped it up. It was brand new, unused, and I was fortunate to find it. Putting it together with a Ross San Miguel reel, it balanced perfectly in hand. The Grip was still a little on the small size for me, but it was the superfine shape I like. Time to get it wet.Here is one of my favorite reaches….
This is “Big Fish” water. I have caught many of the Cutthroats over 20″ in this stretch.
That boulder field up there can hide the Trout that dreams are made of….
But not today….
Now, I know that rivers have their days when nothing will bite and that could explain some of it, but I wasn’t seeing the fish I should have even if they wouldn’t bite. The water is a little low today and that could be some of it.I covered the water with many of my better flys that should have drawn more attention.
It was several 100 yards before I reached this hole….
This is another one of those “Big Fish” places….
A fish did come up….
Well whitefish eat drys too.I continued to cast, multiple times, to spots that should hold fish.
And finally a good one did come up.
I saw the Cutt slash at my fly, taking it down deep.
I felt it kicking with it tail, the rod pulsing with each stroke.
Then it swam over to the far side where it broke off. Bad Luck….Ever hopeful I kept moving upstream.
Again I covered more ground than I would have expected before my next bite….
I saw a few in the tailout, so I took my time approaching and setting up for the cast…
It worked !!! I nettted the fish and looked for the others. I starting casting up the left side seam. Another small Cutt took the fly and I had him in hand lick-it-t split, but slipped out of my hand before I could take a pic. I looked for anything else, but didn’t see anything. As I worked my way out of the tailout, I saw something flashy on the bottom.
What was it?
Wow, talk about going big !!!!
This was one Large articulated streamer !!!!I worked up the side of the hole. I saw something flash mid-depth towards the drop. I started by casting right next to the bank, nothing moved. I slowly walked each successive cast further out into the main current. It took several casts, but finally the drift was right. The fish took it like a Barracuda, hit the fly at full speed and kept going. I didn’t have to do anything but hang on. The new Winston was, for the first time, bent over under the strain of a strong fish. There’s nothing like a fish that puts a good bend in your rod. I followed upstream, worked the fish over going down and dirty style, and had it in the net in no time.
Who’s happy now?…
I released the fish and walked back down to fish the rest of the hole to the far side.
Nothing else rose….Again further upstream than I usually go without a strike….
Nope….
NadaThis is the bend where I caught a 20″er the first time I fished this stream….
Just where you’d expect to find one, on the soft inside bend of the hole….
That will do….This is another bank a good ways up the stream….
I was making good casts with the Winston. I was accurately putting the fly on the edge of the cutbank. Just as I was about to pick up the flyline at the end of a long drift, a Cutt grabbed the fly and headed downstream. I moved as quick as I could to follow, but that lasted about 5 seconds and then it pulled off. I never got close to getting even with that fish. I kept working the cutbank. I watched the fly drifting down, occasionally ticking the overhanging grass. I am really pleased with the flex pattern, overall swing-weight, and accuracy of this Winston rod. All it needs to be one of my front-line rods is for me to re-grip it with a larger diameter cork handle.Then something lunged out of one of those pockets, took it down, and turn upstream.
Yes !!!
That’s more to my liking. I stayed downstream and let him fight the current and me.
Another good Cutt !!!!I was loosing the light fast now….
Another strike….
These guys fight hard too….This would be the last reach I would fish today….
Upstream section….
Downstream section turning left and away from me….
Last year I caught several nice fish here. I started casting where one of those fish was hooked. The soft inside eddy of the turn on the far side…. Zero
Then I started working up the cutbank on the far side. Lay out a cast, let it drift, take a few steps up, and cast again a little higher. I was working every little pocket and I was well up the bank. I made a cast, the fly touched the water, and it was “Instantaneously Gone” ! He felt strong. He fought above his weight class by using the current along the cutbank. I walked up my side and applied more and more side pressure. Soon, I was able to move him out of the fast water and into the slack water on my side….
That’s a good way to end it.I reeled up and put the fly on the hook keeper. It was time to work my way across the meadow and find the double track used by the cowboys up here.
There was plenty of time to think about today while hiking back. Today’s numbers were definitely sub-par for my long term average. My biggest fish was maybe 15-16″. Most years I catch at least one fish 18-20″ and many times, several that size. Was it the angling harvest taking it’s toll? Drought maybe? Maybe it was just the moon phase? I don’t really know. But, I haven’t caught 25 in a single day in several years now and I was far short of that number today. I hope those days aren’t over.Now climb the slope out of the valley and up to where the Bronco was parked….
I hope this stream will improve in the coming years, because it has been the high point in fishing most years I’ve come here.I reach the Bronco, open the rear door, shuck my gear, and take off my boots.
I drive off the backside of the bluff that overlooks this stream.
The sun’s going down, and I have a long way to drive back to Afton….
I sure hope Mother Nature turns her loving eyes towards this water and helps it out.
It sure has changed over the some 16 years I have been fishing it.-
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“Another Day, Another Headwater”
Weathermen can be a fisherman’s best friend and worst enemy at the same time.
How’s that? Well, they can warn us of storms coming, but we tend to go anyway.
Today there would be severe weather coming and there was no time to waste.I was headed into the back-country once again.
I would be traveling up and over one ridge and down into another basin.
and the road goes on forever….
and the party never ends….
after a nice long dusty ride….
There it is, another piece of heaven….The routine is the same: boots, wading belt, flyvest, and a favorite flyrod….
Now, I can wander down close to all that heaven will allow….
Hmmmm….
Which fly?
Hippie Stomper?
Small Chubby?
Which color?And now, to cast, to watch the fly drift downstream….
Pick up the flyline, casting again, and place the fly in another likely spot to hold a monster Cutthroat….
Or at least that’s my hope….
It is said that Fishermen have very short memories….
Because we believe that this cast is the one that will bring a fish of our dreams to take our fly.
Then, when it doesn’t happen, we pick up the flyline, cast again, believing “This” is the cast it will happen.
This goes on and on, all through the day, every day, and every time we are on the water.
Anything less, would be a betrayal of our creed….
Well. it’s not the monster that I was looking for, but it will do till one comes along.The weatherman was right, it’s not even noon and dark clouds are gathering.
No time to waste….
No monster, but another perfect specimen….
Here was a real good looking spot….
I caught several here, nothing trophy sized….
All these spots had fish waiting….
Finally a better one….
Notice the raindrops on the lens….
There was not much time left before the skies would open up and the flashes of lightning would light up the ground casting harsh shadows across the meadow….
There under the willows on the right, another little Cutthroat….
There on the left, at the drop into the pool under the willows, another head pokes through
Now you guess, it’s not that hard….
Of course you’re right….
Now the big rain drops start to fall.
Just a few at first, but so big you can hear them splat on the stream side rocks as they hit.
Time to go, quickly across the meadow and up the hillside to the truck.
Open up the back and shuck the vest, wading belt, and place the flyrod safely on the passenger side.
No time to take my wet wading boots off if I don’t want to get soaked.
Turn the Bronco around, and head back out the valley.I drive quickly on the dirt forest roads that turn, slick, and then muddy in the heavy rain.
Further up the road the rain stops, but there’s no going back.
The day was short, but rewarding.
Maybe 2 hours on the water and 15 or so Cutthroats to hand.
Heaven had allowed just enough time for some fun, before the weatherman was proved right.-
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All good questions about the Simms boots. I have been using their boots from the very beginning. I guess the best answer is they fit my feet well. And lace up, well because I ‘ve always used lace up boots. My friend Joe uses Korkers dial ups and likes them. The funny thing is his Korkers started coming apart at the toes too. He went and bought some epoxy to glue them back together and then the next day we went fishing I looked at my boots, just because, and that’s when I noticed the toes on my Simms were just starting to come apart. He said it is not uncommon among the anglers using their boots in warmer waters. He’d been fishing in Hawaii and I had been fishing the upper Guad around Hunt.
“Revisiting an old Friend”
This creek is another I fished the first year I came to the Afton area. It has seen it’s ups and down, because it is at a fairly low altitude, on a west facing slope, and has generally low flows. Over the years it fished so well that it wasn’t uncommon to catch 40+ Cutthroats in a day. Then the drought of these last few years hit it real hard, plus many Beaver took over the meadows and created many shallow ponds that further warmer the waters. Last year it was in such bad shape, I fished a good stretch and only caught a hand full. Today I would go through the same water and see how if it changed at all.
If you want to know where it is, here is your only clue….
I parked at a familiar spot to geared up. The routine is almost hypnotic. Pull out my stool, off with my tennis shoes and socks, on goes my wading socks, then my G4 boots, and then gator guards. Clean my polarized sunglasses. Flyrod? I’m using the same Sage 576 LL from yesterday, so pull it outside and lean it up next to the truck.
Check my vest: Water? check, Jelly and Peanutbutter Sandwich? check, Camera? check, remove used tippet and river rocks from their pocket, check Floatant Level…. add more…., Strap on my wading belt and staff, sling on my vest. Put the stool back inside the Bronco and check for anything left on the ground. Then lock the truck, put the key inside my vest, pick up my flyrod and head for the water….There’s a little brush busting to get to the creek and then slide down the bank, cross the creek, and observe !
Many anglers forget, to slow down, and observe what is going on first. Is anything hatching? Are the fish rising? To what? What’s the water temp? If they’re not rising, can you see any fish? Where are they? Now based on all that what is the best choice to try and catch them.
Today, nothing is hatching, nothing is rising, water temp is 65. The fish seem to be in the bottom of the deepest pools, not in the tailouts, not in the drops or riffles.
Well things could be better, but these fish are small creek opportunistic feeders….
I decide on a small copper chubby, one that has worked well in the past, to imitate the hoppers that should be around.
The first pool I see multiple fish sitting on the bottom, but before I can make a cast a family of loons comes slashing through the pool.
It’s busted….
Not so a good a start….I move up to the next piece of deeper water. I try the outside seam next to the bank first, after several casts, I put it right in the middle of the faster water, nope. Then I cast to the inside seam and it drifts back about a foot and something comes out of nowhere to smash it !
A few seconds later….
I release the Cutt and make a few more casts, but nothing else rises.I move a good distance and have no more fish rise to the Chubby. Time to try some other patterns: Adams…. Elk Hair Caddis…. Hippie Stomper…. How about a small olive Chubby….
And finally another fish does come up….
Well, it’s not great, but I do think it’s somewhat better than last year.Then I come to this great riffle/pool/tailout.
This has always been a good place to catch. I start in the tailout, working from my side, then across the creek in a series of casts and drifts, to grid the entire surface out, covering everything. Some tiny Cutts, maybe 2-3″, make attempts to pull it under, and come up empty. I work the body of the pool and a 8″ish Cutt grabs it and holds on. I fight it and swing it in for a fast pic, but it shakes loose on the lift out of the water. I make some casts to the far side of the pool and have a couple lookers, but no hookups. I decide to change color again and put on the small copper Chubby again, and again they just look.
Then I remember the old mantra I heard from a drunken guide at a local shop here many years ago. If you want bigger fish, put on a big fly. So, I dig in my flyboxes, and pull out a #8 Copper Chubby. I cast to the lookers on the far side and it draws a few strikes. There is another thing these Cutts love to do if they are the least bit cautious, that is to grab the rubber legs and pull it under before eating it. I strike and come up empty, let’s see: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7…. Yeap I’m missing a rubber leg….
They are pulling my legs off !!!!Now I cast to the water leading to the drop into the head of the pool, right on the inside seam. The fly floats down and there is a significant splash, and the line goes tight !!! The little rod is bent over to the butt section. I see the trout’s flanks flashing in the bottom of the pool’s greenish waters. It’s a Good Fish !!! He is pumping and staying on the bottom. He circles through the tailout and then up the far side. It’s a good feeling having a fish of this size on this light flyrod. I am using 5X, and I let it swim where it wants to tire itself out….
Now I can increase the pressure. I start to pull him my way. With my free hand I pull the net. I pull back on the rod and the Cutt comes to my side…. scoop….
It’s a long fish for this creek and it’s thick !!!!
This is one of the biggest Cutts I have ever caught here ! Well, that’s a good sign !!!!
More casts with the larger Chubby bring nothing, but that’s not surprising considering how much the larger Cutt swam everywhere in the pool.Time to move upstream….
Casting the larger Chubby brings some half-hearted looks from smaller fish in this shallower run. So, I downside the Chubby to a #12 of the same color. Again I have lookers, but not takers, so I change back to the more subtle olive color Chubby about sized 14.
Bingo !!!!
I keep fishing this fly, moving up through the run, and have several more like 6″ Cutts take the fly.
So, I have found a fly that I will fish the rest of the day, it’s a keeper.
Yeap….
So, my impression is this creek is recovering from last year low point, but not back to it’s zenith.
I am starting to catch numbers close to those of several years ago….
I should have taken more pictures, but I was having such a good time just catching….
And some better fish….
The shadows come early in this deep valley….
And the fish just kept coming and taking my fly….
I was almost ready to call it a day….
I was casting along a shallow bank, there was a rock embedded in the bank, pushing the current out towards the middle, and creating a little hole behind it. I cast, but it was too far out. I cast again and the wind caught it and it landed almost in the middle of the creek. I stopped and waited for the wind to stop. I picked up the line, made a quick backcast, and shot it in the bank above everything. The fly drifted down the edge of the bank, the current pushed it out going by the rock, and then sucked it back in behind the rock perfectly. A nose poked through and left some expanding rings where the fly had been. I struck and the cutthroat immediately jumped high, clearing the water by maybe 2 feet. It’s another real good Cutthroat !!! It runs for the middle then straight up the creek, the reel is spinning like mad, and the line is going out fast. I see him jump again, now maybe 60 feet upstream in the shadow of the surrounding ridges. I see the line cutting to the right side and the willows there. I start running upstream as fast as I can and reeling in the slack. I am making up ground, when the line goes limp…. He broke off in the willow roots up there….
The One that got away….
You need to loose some of the “Good Ones” to appreciate the “Good Ones” you “DO” land….Well, I tie on another olive Chubby and catch a few more….
That’s good enough, time to climb out of the creek, and hike back to the Bronco. To wrap this one up, this creek is coming back from the abysmal results last year. It still has a way to go before it reaches it’s glory days, but it’s headed in the right direction.
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“A Change of Venue”
My time was up in Pagosa. The last day is spent, washing the Truck, doing laundry, packing up (A monumental task in itself), and maybe a little fishing.
First Things First….
Wash the truck,… especially getting all the mud off from underneath and inside the fender-wells. Plus, driving down the forest roads, no matter how tight your door seals are, even with the windows rolled up, that micro-fine dust finds a way inside and sticks to everything, especially plastic. I used 2 towels just wiping all the trail dust off everything inside the Bronco.
It’s not perfect, but that will do since I’m still going down a bunch of Forest Roads in Wyoming.Joe and I went to grab lunch at a Burger Joint called “Sage”. It’s not cheap, but it is the best burger and monster pile of fries you will get anywhere in Souther Colorado.
Then the rain started, so no quick trip for a few last Trout somewhere. Back at the Condo, it was time for the laundry, inventory, and packing. We had the Olympics on and watched that too. Then it came time to pack the Bronco. In addition to all the flyfishing equipment, I did bring everything to camp comfortably. With everything packed in tight with the back seats folded flat, there is about a 10″ slot to see out the back window. I must be getting better at this….Friday morning, bright and early….
Goodbye to this comfortable Condo, check out, and on the road before 8am….
West across southern Colorado….
In Utah and working north….
Over Soldier Pass….
There was a huge traffic jam in Salt Lake City. They shut down all but 1 lane on the interstate during the rush hour and I spent 1 1/2 hours going 2 miles. Through that finally and I continue to head north on IH 15, turning east again towards Logan. Then running up the Logan River, over the top and down to Bear Lake. They were having some big festival there, so the going was slow. I picked up a Sheriff there and he followed me all the way to Montpelier for some reason, probably my out-of-state plates, so I was extra mindful of the speed limits. Then I cross into Wyoming and on to Afton, where I checked in to the Hi Country Inn.I slept late. Got up and drove to Burger King for a fast breakfast, as there’s no real breakfast joint in this little town of 2264. Back to my room and sorted through my flyvest and changed out some fly boxes that are more appropriate for the waters here in Wyoming (Think Bigger Attractors). The Olympics were on and I watched them some as started putting my daily stuff back in the Bronco: boots, wading staff and belt, several flyrods and reels, Gore-Tex Jacket, towels, sunscreen, stool, tools, and extra water. It’s early afternoon and I know a Little Creek, not too far away that should fish well….
So I’m out the door. This side of Wyoming has been a drought for several years now. The east side of the Wyoming Range and the Green River Drainage have been hit especially hard. This winter they had near normal snowpacks and it will be interesting to see how the Cutthroats have faired. Down the highway, I find a certain forest road, down that a ways, then turn off the forest roads to a little side track going down into the valley….
And there it is….
Here is the home of an aboriginal population of Snake River Cutthroats. Today I would be using my Sage 576 LL. I found this rod a number of years ago. Sage does not even list this weight and length rod in their catalog. It was a special run of rods for a certain rod builder in the northwest. This one is labeled “Anderson Custom Rods 1993” made in Southern Oregon and is personalized with a woman’s name “Kelly Cathleen Curran”. It is a 7 1/2′ 5wt. Graphite III Light Line with a superfine cork grip, silver Struble reel seat, and 2 gold SIC stripper guides. I have never seen or heard of another one like it. When the quarters are tight and I need a little more backbone than a 3 or 4wt. can offer, this is my go-to rod. I tie on some new tippet and a Hippie Stomper….Here’s another little side bar….
My 1 year old Simms G4 wading boots were starting to delaminate at the toes. The sole was coming loose from the uppers. I called Simms warranty department and told what was happening and that I was at the beginning of my summer flyfishing vacation. I sent them a couple of pictures of the toes, they understood my situation, and said they would send me a brand new pair of boots. This was happening when I was in Colorado and since it would take a week to get them to me, they sent them here to Wyoming. You got to love that kind of service !!!!
So here are my brand new G4 boots getting wet for the first time.
I cross the creek and continue hiking on downstream to the fence that marks the line between private property and the National Forest.
I often wondered what the creek would fish like downstream on the private land. I haven’t approached the owners yet to ask permission, but when I get here I usually think about doing it sometime, but not today. There’s too little time. Clouds are building to the west. It seems it’s been fairly dry here up till now, but apparently I have trailered the Monsoons up here with me, as would be played out in the coming week.Now down the fence line to the creek.
I step down the slope into the water.Come on, enough of that already….
Let’s make some casts….
Ahhhh….
Just as I remembered !!!!Another please….
If you seen some of my other summer posts, you will recognize this creek….
And no, It won’t do any good to look back at those posts, I haven’t and won’t name it.
FOASTWRNHere we go….
More of these please….
The only question is how much time will I have to fish? How many can I catch in the allotted time?
The answer is…. A Lot !!!!Another reach….
How many will I catch here?
A Lot is always a good answer….
There were more in each of these runs, but they are all cookie cutter versions of the same!So instead of showing you every fish (And I usually don’t unless it’s a particularity slow day anyway)
Here are the runs and riffles with some of the Cutts caught there….
When I come up here, there are 3 other Cutthroat creeks like this one, that I fish all the time.
When I’ve had a bad day, I pick one of these waters, so I can catch a good number, and feel better about everything.
And not to give anything away, but I should have fished more of these waters than I’d like to admit this year in the time I had left.
But most of these smaller creeks and streams are still doing quite well up here.
I have fished: the Green, the Snake, the Salt, and the Greys, but I tend to fish the creeks and headwaters of these rivers instead of the Big Water they offer.
Now there is one major river section I have been meaning to fish up here, but never got around to it.
And that is the South Fork below Palisades Reservoir.
I should just bite the bullet some year and hire a guide and drift it.
That is not in the cards this year, but maybe next year.
Again, these fish are mainly 6-12″, but some better ones do show up….
In fact I’ve caught fish to 17″ here….
Here’s the proof that little creeks can produce some surprisingly big Cutts
Some more of those better spots….
I cut the nose of this one, too bad….
And one more good spot….
Yeap, one of my favorite places to fish up here….
There’s nothing wrong with this creek !!!!
And then there is Thor playing with his hammer again. The dark clouds have made it to the ridge. I haven’t fished much more than 2 hours and landed 34 Cutthroats. Another blast rumbles through the valley. I need to go, because I need the Bronco to climb out on a pretty sketchy trail when it’s dry, much less if it’s pouring down rain. It’s just a loose rock twin track, not even a real forest road. So, I get out of the creek and start back. I hike along the edge of the creek, so much good water that I will not be able to fish today….
This is a place that I know well, of course it changes from year to year, depending on what the spring run-off did, and what the Beavers did afterward.Yes…. Weather would be a big part of my stay up here this year.
It’s all part of the deal.
You play the cards that are dealt you and see what happens.-
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A Worthwhile Return Trip
It was a long night. I have been having lower back pain wake me up in the middle of the night and not being able to go back to sleep. I had slept maybe 2 hours and I woke at 3am. I tried some Tylenol but it had no real affect. I found that if I sit up in a chair, instead of laying down flat in bed, I could get a little more comfortable. Still, I was awake when the first light of dawn brightened the mountains in the east. I had some milk with whey protein as up I watched the sun come up. I was really tired. I turned on the TV and watched some of the Olympics again falling asleep in my chair sometime later. When I woke up, I had been asleep for about 90 minutes, and now I felt much better. I got dressed and being close to noon now I went out and got a burger.
It was going to be an afternoon start today and I decided to go back to the Cutthroat Creek I fished 2 days ago.
The drive takes a while once I’m on the forest roads and as they say it is not the miles, it’s the time it takes to cover them.
It’s a pleasant drive up into this Alpine Valley
Here I am again looking up into this small meadow
Today I would fish a little higher in the meadow and see if this fishing was the same. I pulled out my Sage 4711 LL again and put it together for another round.
The Hippie Stomper has severed me well….
It’s almost like walking in a daydream….
It’s all so easy….
And easy is what I looking for today, with very little in the way of energy reserves on tap….
But it’s not like I am the only one who knows about this little gem….
That’s a very fresh boot print….
Had he fished here today?
More likely yesterday.
But certainly not more than 3 days old because of how often it’s been raining up here.No worries…
And those better Cutts are still coming and to take my fly floating by….
It’s one of those soft fuzzy days….
I am moving slow, but I still have my strength. I am not stumbling around, I am not wandering aimlessly, everything I’m doing has purpose.
Fish after fish….
No Cutts were pulling off seconds after they were hooked….
Everything seemed so perfect today.There were still challenges….
Cutthroats hiding under the willows. A difficult cast to execute precisely and get it right the first time. To get the fly close enough to the willow without hanging up. And then the reward, to get the Cutthroat to notice and decide to come out from their hiding to take the fly.
And the satisfaction that comes from making all that happen….This is the right day to happen after yesterday’s many and puzzling lost fish and last night’s insomnia….
No questions today
Just letting it happen naturally
God, I love flyfishing for these natives high up in the mountains
It perfectly suits me at my age and abilities
The fly is pulled under and I set the hook….
This little guy comes flying out of the water, past my shoulder, and landing back in the creek….
But no harm done….
I sun is already low on the horizon. I am feeling the end of the day coming fast.
And today, even being a short one on the water, is perfect for how I am feeling.
Some more really good sized fish from this meadow at around 10,000 feet….
The soothing sound of water moving downstream, tumbling over the rocks in the streambed….
Many cooperating Cutthroats
Then something unusual
Two flys in this Cutthroat. My Hippie Stomper and someone else’s Stimulator. I was right about the boot print. That Stimulator has not been there long. It’s still in fair shape. So, I remove both flys and release the fish back into it’s home.
One last run….
One more Cutthroat….
Just before I get out of this stream, I take one more look at what possibilities still lay ahead in this valley.
I have never been all the way to the headwaters.
Maybe Someday I’ll do that.
Here’s to Somedays….I climb out of the water, up the stream bank, and move through the trees….
I take a long look up the valley and the mountains along the Continental Divide….
I spook a doe hiding in some trees. I bounds off, reaching the far tree line, before stopping and looking back at me….
I continue to walk through the meadow and it’s wildflowers as the light fades and forest prepares for sleep….
At the bottom of the meadow, I set my rod upon a post in celebration of the day well spent….
I cross the creek one last time and walk up to the Bronco. I open the rear door, pull out my stool. I sit down for the first time in hours. Sitting there and relaxing feels so good. I look around at this valley and enjoy everything the Creator has put here. After several minutes, just sitting, and just being here, I pull off my wading boots, dry my feet, put on some warm socks, and my tennis shoes. This is just what the doctor ordered. A pleasant day on the water, no rain, light breezes, and lots of Cutthroats….
I put everything away, close the rear door, and climb into the truck. I start the engine and listen to the music coming from the stereo. It’s nice. I put the truck in drive and start to move back down the forest roads towards Pagosa. I turn off the stereo, and lower the windows. I listen to what the forest has to say. The wind stirring the aspen leaves. The call from a hawk somewhere overhead, I look up and see it there, gliding, wings fixed, moving effortlessly through the sky. What it must be like to be that hawk and living in this valley?
The sun is gone, I turn on the headlights and follow the winding gravel road back home.
Really though, I am more at home in places like this, than in 4 walls with all the comforts the modern world.
Give me moving waters, meadows, forests, a light breeze, and Blue Bird Skies….
And of course, some Cutthroats that will take my dryflys drifting down a stream….-
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“My Rio Grande Cutthroat Favorite”
Joe still hadn’t nailed down passage to Puerto Rico, but he had also and enough of trying for awhile.
So today, he, Willow, Violet, and myself would head into the backcountry for a Rio Grande Cutthroat stream that has produced the largest Rio Grande Cutthroats I have ever caught in moving water. It’s a long trip. We would spend at least 1 1/2 hours just on Forest Roads to get there, and no I won’t name it. This is definitely in the “Fishing on a Stream that will remain Nameless” category.Joe borrowed my Winston AIR 490 and I selected my Scott Radian 590. This stream can be Easy…. or it can be as tough as the Toughest Spring Creek you’ve ever fished. You just never know what you will get until you start fishing. Both of us geared up, we and the Labs went down to the stream.
We started off throwing medium sized Chubbies that usually work so well here….
And it didn’t take long….
Joe finished out the run without another strike….
Then it was my turn….
I was fishing up to and under the bridge….
As I approached the bridge and the shadows under it, I saw something move. You know, I didn’t really see a fish, I didn’t see it’s shadow, all I saw was that bottom moved. I will tell you, I’m not the best at spotting fish, but this time I noticed that something changed.
I cast to the spot….
Immediately whatever had moved took my fly.
While I was fighting the Cutt, Joe was saying…. he saw the fish and was just about to tell me where to cast, when I sent the fly and the fish took it.
An average fish for the first one, and happy to have it.Joe took over on the other side of the bridge….
We saw some fish, but they took off upstream….
In the upper part of the run, we witnessed something that would be repeated throughout the day. A fish rose to the fly, we saw the fish take the fly down, Joe struck the Cutt, the rod loaded up for about 2 seconds, and the fly popped out and the fish was gone. It’s like he was holding on to the fly, with the hook point somehow never stuck in anything, and then it let go. Joe turned and looked at me and said….
Did you see that?
What happened there?
I really don’t know….
It would not be the only one either.
Both of us had fish strike, the rod load up, and then seconds later,… Nothing ?!?!?
Yes, it was going to be one of those tougher days on the water here.I had my turn now….
No problems….
Then Joe worked upstream….
He had another fish come up, load the rod, and let go ?!?
Again ?!?!?
Joe was beside himself.
His luck turned though….
This was going to be a very strange day !!!!
It was time for the “Touch and Go” to happen to me.
I was working up a run. It was fairly straight and unobstructed, so I laid out longer and longer casts.
I had just cast about 50′ upstream, a nice Cutt came up and took my fly down. I set the hook, or at least I thought I set the hook, the rod loaded up, the fish swam from the left side of the creek towards the middle.
Then my fly and flyline came shooting back at me !?!?!
It had happened to me now.
And fortunately a few casts later, my consolation prize…..
But the tone was set for the day.
We were going to loose fish, we thought we hooked….It was Joe’s turn at humiliation….
This time it happened to him twice. I thought he might take it out on the rod, he was so exasperated !!!!
He would look at me….
With that what did I do wrong look….
All I could say is
“I have no idea!”I had some good luck and caught a better one….
Joe finally caught a good one without loosing one or more first….
In the next couple of hundred yards on the stream, we both had fish strike, load the rod, and come unhooked in a manner of seconds. I had one strike, jump and somersault, land in the water, start swimming in another direction, rod bent pretty good…. and then fly line screamimg back at my head !?!?!
Then Joe said….
I can deal with fish that won’t strike.
I can deal with fish that somehow throw the hook, like when they are jumping.
But when they become unhooked, with the rod under prefect pressure, not too little pressure, not too much pressure….
That Drives Me Mad !!!!!We came up to this cool “S Bend” pool.
Joe caught a nice fish in the tailout.
I got my turn. This pool was loaded and we could see the fish were eating some emerger.
They ignored my Chubby. So I decided to change flys. While I was retying, Joe had added a dropper and sent it through the pod. They moved out of the way as the nymph passed them. I tied on a Callibaetis Spinner that I had bought at “Let It Fly”. I cast and let it drift back over the pod. They were interested, but it took several casts to get one to rise.
I set the hook….
Snap….Joe said….
Too much of a Bass set in that one!….I bought the leader in for a look. The knots had held and the brand new tippet I had just added, broke in the middle !?!?!
Bad Luck ?!?!?
That was so weird !!!!
Joe had tied on another dry/dropper was now working that pod again.So, I cut off the bad piece of tippet, added a new piece, another new Callibaetis Spinner, and mashed the barb down… When I was finished putting the new fly on, I went up the side and started casting to a fish I could see in the run/riffle that led to the pool. It was a narrow, skinny, piece of water moving pretty fast, and I could see the Cutt holding in a little gut in the middle. I cast numerous times, trying to get the drift right. The fish didn’t move, he didn’t spook, he just kept in that little gut. I don’t know how many casts and drifts I made on the fish. Finally, a cast was just right, it drifted down to him, he came up and ate it. It was a better fish than I first thought. It turned and ran down into the pool. There, I played it a little more gingerly than the last. The water was deep, there was no wood in the bottom for him to dive into, and I took my time….
I pulled my net and waited….
He came by the first time….
Too far….
Patience….
He came by again….
Nope….
He was really starting to tire now….
Pulling the rod back over my head….
Scoop….
He was mine !!!!
This one was colored by the Master !!!! A solid fish, about 16″ long, but thick, heavy male….
Such a perfect specimen !!!! Not the biggest I’ve ever caught here, by a large margin, but maybe one of the prettiest. Just look how thick this male is all the way down his body to his tail. It’s fins were all prefect, and the spotting, well it couldn’t be more ideal for the species if Dave Whitlock painted a picture of one. It was an older Buck that had been eating well !!!!I told Joe….
OK…. that’s the one I’ve been looking for all day.
If nothing else happens, I can still be happy with this !!!!Of course, we caught a few more fish, Thank God !!!!
Joe worked through this run. I had high hopes for it as this is where I caught a 18″er last year….
There was a hole and undercut next to the boulder, but nothing showed this time….
A little later up the stream….
Then me….
The dogs were hungry and Joe headed back to the truck. I wanted one more….
Oops….
Not such a good handling of that one on my part….I thought, just one more….
And I did catch one more, but fumbled that one too….I looked back and Joe was nowhere in sight.
Time to go.
It was a pretty good walk back to where we parked the truck.
We landed some good fish, but it had been a day of frustration.
We each had several fish, come off, for no particular reason.
Still, this is the place. I will fish here any time I’m even close.
Sometimes it can be spectacular.
Sometimes you can barely find a fish, much less catch one.
And sometimes, they do things that will have you talking to yourself.
It was one of “Those Days” today.
But I will be back….-
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“What Recovery Looks like”
Today I would be revisiting a Cutthroat Creek that I have been fishing here in the Pagosa area almost from the very beginning, I think I actually fished it the second year I came here some 17 years ago or so. This creek drains off the ridge that is the Continental Divide and has harbored pure Cutthroats because of a series of waterfalls that block any upstream migration of Rainbow Trout. When I first started coming here the Cutthroat were numerous, but small. Big fish back then were 10″. As the years passed the Cutts got to be 12″. Then a series of forest fires, drought, and over-fishing, just about wiped the Cutthroat population out. I fished this creek some 6 years ago and caught just 2 fish. I talked to those who knew about this creek and they said the same thing, it wasn’t worth fishing anymore.
Good thing Mother Nature loves this creek, because it started to come back. I fished it last year and caught a decent number of Cutts and some were 12″ again. I was hopeful that the trend would continue and I would find this creek was as good as it ever was….
It’s a pretty long drive into the back-country….
Yes, the road would go from OK to “I hope I don’t break something”….
Embedded rocks in a washed out road….
I told you it would get worse….
Hold on….
Well That’s Better !!!!
And there it is….
Drive a ways, park the truck, and gear up….
I hike back down the meadow through the wildflowers….
Now, it’s time to find my way through the willows and get in the creek….
Today I am using my Sage 4711 LL Graphite III. This is my favorite from the Light Line series built in the 1980’s. And I have 7 LL models including the famous 389 LL. I tie on some new 5X tippet and put on Red Hippie Stomper. I ready and it doesn’t take many casts to get the first one on….
Perfect !!!!I move upstream….
It’s a little more than I expected before my second bite,
but right in the seam behind the boulder….
Well it’s early, I say to myself, it should be an afternoon bite, and that is several hours off.Here, somewhere in the shade on the right, under those willows, and hugging the bank….
There should be something in there.
Probing with my casts, getting the fly to drift into those little pockets along the bank, keep probing and….
Of course, it always could be the fly pattern is not the best choice, so right after catching one, change the pattern and see if another comes out that refused the original pattern. Nothing shows, so back to the Hippie Stomper.
Big enough to net in fast water. Again, change the fly pattern to a Wilcox Special and see what happens…. Nothing else….
Let’s keep it on for awhile and give it a try in some undisturbed water.Then this target rich enviroment!!!!
You know that a Cutt has to be holding somewhere in those branches ready to jet out into the current to grab any tidbit that goes by….
Another cast along the fallen tree, a little higher and closer to the drop….
OK, is it the fly or is it the presentation? There’s always a few of those questions rattling around in my head!
Not sure yet, but these two flys are definitely working today.It’s time to fish along with me.
Where would you cast? What fly would you chose?
Isn’t this just Grand?
This would have been the prize….
What about here?
Well, I started out in the middle and worked my way to the left.
This came from the lower bush on the left…
This one came from the bush right next to the riffle.Always moving, always looking upstream….
I mean, you can’t pass up something as good as this!
You don’t have me yet….
Now what you do say?
This is getting Real Good !!!
That Cutt is 13, maybe 14″ !!!!
This turning out to be a really good day !!!!Don’t you just love creeks like this?
I Do !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now here…. was the BEST spot of the day!….
A log had been swept downstream. The roots dug in and spun the upper part of the tree downstream. The water had hollowed out a hole under that log and it was over 3 feet deep in spots. This could be a multiple Trout place, so many places to hide, tailout, next to the log, under the log, behind it, up in the riffles….I tell myself….
This is “Big Fish Water” and I tie on a #14 Copper Chubby.
I start at the tailout….
I take my time moving up, fishing it all thoroughly on the way up….1
2
Take a few steps up.
Take your time and put the fly just where you want it….
A Cutt comes up to look at the Chubby,… but turns away !
The next cast in the same spot…. Nothing.
I cut the Chubby off and put the Hippe Stomper back on….
3
4
5
What Colors !!!!
Sorry for the blurry picture, but those colors !!!! I had to include it !
These are some really nice sized fish for this creek!!!! Previously, over all the years I’ve fished this creek, I have caught just a hand full of Cutts 12′ or better. Today I am SMOKING that number !!!!A few more steps upstream to fish the head of the pool and riffle flowing into it….
6
7
That’s a crazy number in such a small stretch, in a small creek, but it had it all !!!!
Didn’t it?It’s mid-afternoon now. The bite is “ON, like Donkey Kong !!!!”
I work my way up into this stretch.
It’s a little tight, so I use a “Bow and Arrow” cast to flick the fly right under the overhanging willows on the left….Bingo…. The fly is Gone !
The fish twists and turns, trying to find a way to dislodge the hook. Darting to the right and then back to the left, maybe it will find a root to work with…
But no and I pull the net.
Another longer one….Moving fast now, as the sun will soon be behind the ridges up here, long before dark….
And then the battery on the camera died !!!!
I kept fishing for awhile. I caught even more Cutts some around 13, 14, and even 15″ !!!!
I’ve never caught so many bigger Cutts here like I did today and probably the biggest I’ve ever landed here.
Do I sound excited?
Well I am !!!!
Now 13, 14, and even 15″ Trout won’t sound big to those Trophy Hunters out there. You know the ones! Those guys who catch a “Nice” fish and with arms outstretched, put the fish about 2″ from the lens to make it look bigger than it is in relation to their own body in the background, Those guys who will call a 18″ fish a 20″, a 20″ fish 23″, and a 22″er a…. well use you imagination. Now I like catching big fish as much as any other angler, but for me, it’s not necessary. I would rather catch a difficult fish, in a difficult lie, that’s 12, 13, or 14″, or a rare fish in their native drainage. And I love to fish for Cutthroats, where they have been since God put them there.I’m not sure how many I ended up catching today, but it was a good number. And I caught probably my biggest Cutthroat in this creek ever !!!! This Creek is BACK,… in Big Way !!!! Sometimes, after things get bad, time passes and things return to what Mother Nature intended in the first place ! I think I will come back here when I can before I head north….
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I’m Dove Hunting Sunday and Monday. I’ll pick this back up later in the week….
Jimbo
“If it’s not “R”, it’s “W”
It’s Sunday and Joe is still working on getting Transportation to Puerto Rico…
I hang out at the condo and watch the Olympics for a while. They have been pretty good and the US is neck and neck with China for most Gold Medals.
About 2pm, joe says he can’t go fishing, so I load up, and head for some water.For the first time in a long time, there’s not a cloud in the sky. (What you see are bugs on the windshield)
I cruise over the pass and think, I haven’t fished Pass Creek in a long time.
I get on the east side and look down at the creek. I don’t see many vehicles which is a good sign.
I drive the access road and park at my favorite spot to start.
I get out of the Bronco and I’m almost immediately hit with a gust of wind that pushes me back.
I stand there for a few minutes gauging the wind speed. Maybe it was a rouge gust.
Nope….
The more I stand there the windier it gets. There is a steady 15mph with gusts that are at least twice that !!!!
It’s way to exposed down there to try and flyfish with a 4wt !!!!
…. F#@%!n “W”….I get back in the Bronco and head back down the hill. There is a small canyon section close to the Highway, that is heavily treed, and may offer some protection from the wind. The bad news is it’s also a place that is often filled with campers. I get down there, stop, get out, and the wind’s not bad and I only see one tent. Let’s try it.
I gear up and walk down through the woods. This section isn’t more than 100 yards, so I want to start somewhere near the bottom.
I’ve seen a lot of these mushrooms, I wonder what they are?
Now, I’ve gone far enough, time to poke my way through the streamside willows….
I step out into the creek….
To my amazement, there’s almost no wind in here !!!!Let’s Fish !!!!
There you go….
A couple right off the bat.
This may turn out fine.
Yeap, just fine….
The catching is good. They are the usual sized small creek Trout, but I good with that !!!!
So here I go up the creek….
I’m starting to feel the wind now being where the canyon opens up….
Where should I go now?Good thing about fishing here for so many years, I covered a lot of water, and I know places that are easy to get to and fish.
Back in the Bronco I’m headed down the South Fork to a pull out I know with a good stretch of water.
Down the slope to the river….
I work the run up to the next bend without a looker….
Then the first little guy comes to hand.
I work up into the next riffle/run….
Another, just a little bit bigger….
The next riffle/run….
And one a little bit bigger still….
Oops, I misjudged and cut part of his head off !!!!Let’s keep moving
It’s getting real predictable….
Another 12-13″ Brown….
Now up to work the hole under the bridge. I have caught so many fish here over the years.
I work my way up the left side and position myself to be able to cover most of the water, being right-handed.
I start by casting into the tailout of the main current. A Brownie strikes, turns and runs downstream, and then pulls off.
I cast a little higher, another Brown grabs the fly. This one stays in the pool and is soon in my net.
It’s a decent fish, maybe 14″….
I work the seam on my side close to the drop. A little side-arm cast and I deliver the fly right on target. It drifts about halfway back and it’s gone….
Fish On….
Another decent fish. I unhook this one and cast to the far seam….
Bam !!!
The bridge treated me excellent.Now to work up the riffles on the other side.
A little guy, but I’m not complaining….
Working higher in the riffle….
Another little man….
So, I’m up at the top now. It’s getting late. I could go and this would be a decent day. First though I scan the flat water up ahead. I watch for a few minutes and don’t see anything. I keep watching. I guess nothing is happening….
Then I see a rise!
I keep watching. A minute later another close to that spot. They are about 50′ ahead of me. I take to the left bank and work up through the trees. I slip back close to river’s edge and watch. There it is again maybe 25-30′ above me. I put one foot in the water and face upstream. I pull some line off the reel and calculate what I need to put the fly about 3′ above that.
I make the cast….
I watch the fly drift back.
A nose pokes through the surface film.
I strike, sending droplets of water into the air as the flyline comes tight and highlighted, glowing in the setting sun.
The rod loads up and the fight is on. This is perfect !!!
I land this Brown.
Not bad !!! But most importantly this is the first Trout, I’ve seen rising to a hatch, and I was able to target the fish and land it.
I release it back into the river.I look upstream again and watch.
A couple of minutes pass.
There’s another rise…. and another….
There are several Trout up here still rising.
I wait and make sure where they are.
They are holdiing station and not really moving upstream.
This is what dreams are made of, Trout rising to a hatch, and I have the right fly on to catch them.I select another rise form.
I make the cast, too far left.
I make another, it drifts back, this fish porpoises on the fly, taking it down….
I lift the rod and I’m tight again.
I’m giddy…
I net the fish and it’s another good one.
Usually this doesn’t happen this late in the season. Rising Trout to an evening Hatch !!!!
I admire the colors on this one and let it go.I watch the water up ahead again. That last fish must have disturbed them. The remaining fish are now another 20′ up the river. I work as slowly as I can…. I imagine myself a Blue Heron, stepping up the edge of the river. I am watching my feet so as to not make a splash or step on top of a rock that will roll or cause to slip off making noise. I glance up every now and then. Those fish are still there. Just a few more feet. A few more careful steps. I look up. There’s still a couple of fish rising. I turn upstream and measure the distance in my head. The water settles down and I make the cast. There in the glare of the sun on the surface, I see my fly drifting back, it goes past the last rise. I am a second away from picking everthing up off the water….
And the Trout Takes it !!!!
What can I say….
I release this one and look into the sun’s glare again.
I study the water.
It’s all quiet now. No more rising Trout.
I keep watching for several minutes, but they are gone now.The perfect end to the day.
The wind tried to blow me off the mountain.
I adapted and caught fish.I moved to a favorite piece on the South Fork….
And just blind casting to likely holding spots….
And I caught some good fish.Then at the end of the day.
I was just about to leave….
And they started to rise to a hatch….
And I caught Trout.I goin’ home one happy fisherman.
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“Like Looking for the Seven Cities of Cibola”
I am always open to explore and look at new creeks hoping to find another population of Cutthroats. Today I would drive into the backcountry to look at a drainage that I’d never fished before. It all started, as they usually do, with my maps, and then going to Google Maps to see what they look like, before I decide if it’s worth the drive. I’ve found some pretty good fisheries over the years doing this. Would today be another one of those days?
I loaded up the Bronco, topped off it’s tank, and headed east. Over the pass, down the South Fork, then up Beaver Creek Road.
Then I turn on a non-descript gravel road and head up in 4 wheel drive.
This road was about 18 miles to my target meadow.
Up, up, up….
About an hour and a half later, the creek is getting close….
It’s awful small…. But then I’ve fished in trickles before and been happily surprised.
Getting real close, you can see the meadow from here….
I park the truck and get out to look around.
The creek is mostly overgrown here….
I walk over, rod in hand, to find some open spots to dabble a fly on the water….
Nothing rises, nothing spooks that I can see….
I try fishing just below the road culvert….
Here I stay low, and put a sneak on, I stick the rod over the water, I take my hat off and only my eyes are above the bankside willows….
NothingI start to walk up the meadow and look for signs of life.
Like Coronado’s Cities of Gold, my Cutthroats are nowhere to be found.
The ground lights up, seconds later thunder cracks, pops, and rolls across the meadow.
Maybe some fish are here, but today I didn’t find them.
Not a single Trout or Char to hand.
Maybe there is a waterfall downstream.
Maybe there is no water deep enough to winter over this high.
Maybe I just didn’t find the few that are here.
But I have got to go now before it storms.I drive back down.
It starts to sprinkle.
The Bronco bounces, rocks, and rolls over the embedded rocks on this road. Not much in the way of road maintenance up this high.
It takes a pretty long time to get back down to the Beaver Creek valley.
I drive past where this same creek flows into the Beaver. I pull up to take a look.
I look closely and see a few little Trout.
I go back to the Bronco and get my rod.
This looks like a good spot to fish….
Victory….
I catch a couple more.
This creek has not skunked me today.It’s late in the afternoon now. I drive down the road to where Beaver gets close to the South Fork. I haven’t fished this reach in years. It is close to the campground, but because it enters a steep canyon in this reach, not many fish down here. Time to see what it’s like this year….
They are here. Pretty much the same as upstream. When I fished this creek early in the trip, the numbers coming to hand were less than I have come to expect over the years.
Today the numbers are just fine. I think I was right the first time, it was the rain that had the bite off. Now, with no rain falling, drifting my drys on the surface, these Trout want them today.
Yes, I catch tiny Trout too….
And some worth pulling the net
Pretty cool places to flyfish….
Average sized Brown here….
Taking it all in….
The Browns are showing up today….
I see only midges and tiny mayflies in the spider webs….
Again, some of what I saw….
I climb out….
I decide to head down to the South Fork and look around.
I make a cast and it drifts perfectly along the far cutbank. Something takes the fly and heads downstream. The little 4 weight is bent over good. I follow downstream and I am able to net a pretty good Brown. I get my camera ready, pull the Brown out of the net, but it struggles, and I have to let it go. Best Brown of the day and no evidence of this butterball. You know, that’s the way it happens sometimes….
I work upstream a ways but with no other strikes.
I turn around and what do I see?
Black Ducks, just as calm as you please, following me around. You’d think they were hand-raised in somebody’s backyard, but these are as wild as the wind.Well. It was time to go home once again. I caught fish today.
But today was a disappointment.
I had been high in a small drainage, with visions of big Cutthroats coming to hand, but it was a BUST !!!!
Yes sometimes things don’t work out.
But that’s part of the game too.
There are no guarantees.
Other than a possibility….
To discover something remarkable.-
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