If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you have probably heard me talk about how enjoyable it is to head out into nature, feel the breeze on my face and the push of the water on my legs, and to just experience nature, regardless of how responsive the fish might be…
Not this time.
The forecast for Sunday called for one of the few remaining warm-ish days (ended up with an air temp of 59°) that would fall on a weekend. With that in mind, I hastily ate a protein- and fat-laden lunch (need my energy reserves, you know), and headed out around 1pm.
It was a truly beautiful drive, heading up into the mountains. Tons of color change in the trees and several inviting tributaries to slow down and gawk at. Also a lot of people in the initial half of the drive that were out fly fishing, but I still had hope that my go-to area would be left alone… at least relatively. The people fly fishing the main river often leave the tributaries to others, perhaps just looking for the “big ones.”
As I pulled onto the F.S. road, I noticed hunters, brilliant orange vests and all, but stopped seeing anyone fishing.
Niiiiice.
I found my preferred parking spot open … and also the spots both upstream and downstream from it! Very rare to find such a long stretch unoccupied.
I have since told a couple of people that I was fly fishing for 3 hours, that day. When I looked at the time stamps on some of the pics, though, I remembered that I tinkered with the camera before gearing up, then walked down to the first spot, downstream, before I finally wet the line. While I was tinkering, I saw a few small, light tan insects (mayflies, guessing from the wing position) landing on the water. I didn’t have a solid match in my box, but did have a small Parachute Adams with a bright tuft that I tied on, first.
When I stepped into the cool current (water temp all of 48°!) I was greeted by some active surface takes, just upstream of me, which was a very welcome sight. In many of these higher-altitude, small rivers the Cutthroats/Rainbows have adapted to surface feeding in relatively chilly temps. For a dry fly junkie…that’s quite a bonus!
Within 5 minutes, I had the first one on my line! Given the size of this tributary, I never expect large trout. On this day, I landed a some well over the required size to retain (10″ – if I were doing that), and saw a few (almost landing one, that put a hard bend in my 5/6 rod!) that would have been perhaps into the 15″+ range. Just before I moved on from the first pool, something came up to swat my fly away in indignation; with a side flash that had to be a foot long!
Next time…
Over the course of roughly 2-and-a-half hours in and out of this river, I ended up connecting with a dozen beautiful fish. 3 popped off (I only tie barbless, unless tying at the request of someone else that specifically need bards – your welcome, fish) and a few were small enough that I did not want to take them out of the water long enough for a pic, but what colors they all had!
And, I did still take the time to soak in the surroundings, as well.
I also found this little reminder of just what might be hiding in the deeper, darker recesses of this peaceful body of water.
So…I’m in size 11.5 Korkers for this shot. No gaping bite wounds on the fish’s body, so either a raptor got it or it just died on it’s own, but I would love to pull one out on the end of my line, some day!
By the end, I had worked my way through #14 Parachute Adams (burnt orange but white parachute), #14 traditional Adams, and a #12 Orange Stimulator. The last one, which I really love to tie, was kind of beat up by the final trout of the day. Wire and hackle both broken or torn loose at the tail end.
I’d like to think that the Trout Mafia had sent in a ringer, trained in fly damaging, in an attempt to limit my continued use of that fly! I thought it would be a good excuse to tie more…but when I checked my back-stock box, I found it already has 7 more in reserve.
Still… a dozen fish in that span of time works out to one roughly every 13 minutes. Not bad, considering the relative sparsity of fish in the longer runs between pools!
After fishing the entire length of this area, and having gone back to the first pool with a different fly tied on (in case that monster was open to being fooled by this one!), I loaded up and started back, quite happy with how the afternoon had gone.
On the way back, I checked out a section of the main river that I hold in reserve until the end of the season (as in…the last week). Before then, it has so much water running between steep banks that it stays very deep, and extremely strong. It is the kind of river that will take my body (even when I was much heavier) and drive me into a wading staff until the staff buckles.
On this trip, it was looking very, very nice!
See all those lovely rocks? Not too long ago, none of them would have been visible and all you would get is a standing ridge of whitewater to tell you there was danger below. Now…the pockets those rocks create often hold some very nice Cutts! In previous years, I have spent long periods of time jumping between the tops of the rocks, back and forth, casting into pockets upstream, and pulling excellent fish out of every 3rd or 4th one!
As I was scanning the river, before taking these, I caught a glimpse of another visitor, though. Amazingly, that visitor chose to sit and just watch me (and it was definitely watching me) as I got out the camera and managed a few pics.
Absolutely beautiful creatures!
Making the rest of the drive back, I had one more occasion to take a last shot. Very fitting, as the capper to such a great day.
Tight lines…