A Change of Pace

3/16/2010

After a morning of studying, I decided I'd give The Logan a try before work. I only had about an hour and a half, so I was looking for some water close to the canyon mouth. As I approached 3rd dam, I noticed some nice looking pocket water below the dam. I pulled over at the reservoir, and immediately noticed trout dimpling the surface. "Why not?" I thought. This way I didn't even have to worry about taking my pants off right next to the highway, I could fish from shore. So I cast out the dry/dropper rig that I had tied up from the day before, and a couple trout looked in it's direction, but that was all. I figured they were eating midges, so I put on a Griffith's Gnat. Same result. So I attached a dropper line and a size 20 midge pupa. First cast a fish slammed it, and unfortunately I slammed back. My line popped, taking both flies with it. I rummaged through my midge box and settled on a Halo Midge Emerger. I missed the next fish, but finally I slowed down and hooked this little guy.


I missed a couple more, and then I hooked into a big fish. I brought it a little closer, and I realized I had the Queen of the Whitefish on my line. At least 20" and super fat. I brought her up next to me, and then slack. My line had simply given out. I'm wondering if a couple years of kicking around in my vest and hardly being used had weakened my lite tippet. Oh well, at least it was just a whitefish. I was getting pretty low on midge emergers, and then I lost another. I managed one more small fish before the wind and lack of flies drove me away. Plus I had to pee really bad. So I drove to the next turnoff and took care of business. I had a half hour still before work, so I figured I'd try this section. Well, I can't say I was impressed. It was highly channelized with very little fish holding water. With longer runs predominant, I decided to put on an indicator and two nymphs. I worked my way upstream, only seeing a couple of fish that were up under bank side brush, when I finally came to a fishy looking run. I cast out my flies, and a trout rose up confidently, sipping in my little yellow foam indicator, pulling it down beneath the surface. So I switched back to a dry/dropper rig, and of course nothing else looked at them. I had to head back to work, but I'm thinking I just might want to grab some new 5x and some more size 20 hooks.

Final Tally: 2 Brown Trout

Year Tally: 62 Fish

Frolicking Spiders Galore

3/15/2010

Well it was a warm and sunny Monday, forecast to be the warmest day since last fall, so of course I had to go fishing. I made a quick stop at the post office to pick up my new fishing vest that doesn't smell like cat pee, then headed off for the BSF. I decided to go up higher than I'd fished before in search of spawning cutthroat. I suited and rigged up, but before I could wet a line, I needed to void my bladder of spent Mt Dew. While I was relieving myself, I noticed scores of little spiders scampering about in the undergrowth. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see spiders before in my life. Spring had truly come, it was hard to believe. The first run brought me a pretty little cutty on the Carrot's Ear.

I worked my way upstream and passed a few more likely spots that brought nothing. I noticed some little winter stones on some patches of snow, and a saw a couple of BWOs coming off, so I switched to a size 16 dark brown mayfly nymph with an olive sparkle thorax. That did the trick. I caught a nice little brown and soon after another cutt. It kept up like this for a bit, the browns and cutts were neck and neck the first hour of fishing. Then I got to a long run with some gorgeous blue green slack water against some boulders on the far bank. My indicator went under and I immediately knew it was a little better fish. It shot downstream a good 30 or 40 feet, switching back and forth across the stream several times before I scooped it up in my net. I was delighted to behold a lovely cutthroat.

I worked up toward the head of the run, surprised that more fish didn't take my offering, before coming to an even larger pool with some fast water creating a nice seam along the far side. I spotted some smaller fish feeding in the center of the pool and was able to catch a couple. I was disappointed that I didn't catch any decent fish from the run, but before moving on, I plopped my fly in the little eight inch swathe of slack water tight against the bank. Perfect, another nice cutt shot downstream, and we danced for a bit.

As I moved up ahead, the trees grew tighter and the water faster. The browns also became more numerous, taking over by a huge margin. I was able to spot fish a couple of them and even had a take or two on my Turk's before having to head to work for a late and tiring night.

Final Tally: 11 Browns, 6 Cutthroat

Year Tally: 60 Fish

Trudging Through the Lava Flow

3/12/2010

I've been hearing for some time about the fantastic fishing up in the lava rocks of Idaho, but I just haven't had the time to get up there and see for myself. Finally, the perfect opportunity arose, my wife was going out of town through Saturday. Well, that old skag Mother Nature had other plans, and she decided it was going to be snowy and miserable instead. What was I to do? Why skip out on work early and go Friday. I left Logan and headed north, making a couple of stops for a five dollar foot long, some Mt Dew and an Idaho license. $98.25 later, I was headed down toward the canyon. I tied and bundled up, and hiked down to the river. There were excellent looking runs everywhere, I was pretty excited. I decided to start with the Turks/Carrot's Ear combo that has proven so deadly lately. First cast was a nice little 12" rainbow. I caught 3 more and missed another in the next 10 minutes. One even took the Turk's. I was really thrilled, I thought it was going to be an amazing day, and then the cursed four letter bane of fly fishermen everywhere showed up. My casts were landing with wild and reckless abandon, my drifts were anything but perfect. I shambled over to an especially nice looking run and spotted a decent trout feeding. I placed several casts, and finally had a good drift, I saw the trout move toward my offering, and then the wind yanked my line a foot or so forward. I flailed away some more, and decided to change my dropper to a grey scud. The wind died just long enough for me to finally hook this little bugger.

He went airborne several times and then darted into a small waterfall bending my rod like a trout twice his size. I snapped a pic and released him. I turned around and saw a young man wave at me. I waved backed, and then realized it was a fish and game officer. I trudged back across the stream to show him my license. He told me he'd talked to another fisherman a moment before that had been scoring some respectable fish to 17" on a small Copper John. I really hate fishing such small flies, but then I realized that I could use more flies up north than I can in Utah. So I slapped a size 20 midge larva below the Carrot's Ear and began trying to fish again. I think the officer cursed me as things went pretty dead. The wind was howling now, turning my springish day into a frigid and frustrating experience. After a good half hour of nothing, I spotted another nice trout feeding. My Turk's darted under, and I set the hook. It flipped the tail at me and was gone. I remembered I really need to be gentle with these dinky little hooks. I fished on in frustration, having to retie several times because of wind knots and wind caused tangles. I was moving toward the next hole, when suddenly I found myself up to my crotch in silty sludge. People had told me to wade carefully here because of sudden drop offs, unfortunately they failed to inform me that you also need to test every single spot before putting your foot down because it might not be solid. I struggled my way out, only to discover all my flies had been sucked down stream and were now enveloped in a pound or two of worm riddled vegetation (if I ever come back here, I'm bringing some orange San Juan Worms). I picked away at the mess, eventually deciding to retie once again. I also decided to go to a straight nymphing rig with an indicator. Certainly not my favorite way to fish, but I figured it would fair better against the wind than the Turk's. I also rummaged through my box and found a size 20 Copper John. I cast out my new rig and right away I had a fish on. I caught a couple more from the run, and then it dropped off again. I worked my way up to the bridge and scored a couple of spirited little bows below and above it. I kept hopping from rock to rock, avoiding anything that might give out beneath me, hitting some very pretty water, with nothing to show for it. I was pretty much ready to go home, but then the wind died, and I decided that ending on 13 fish would be bad luck anyway. I moved ahead and found a perfect shelf. My indicator reached the end of the run and I lifted up for another cast, but to my surprise there was a heavy throbbing weight at the end of the line and a big tail flapped out of the water at me. And then he was gone. A few casts later it happened again. And again. I threshed the water for a few more minutes then decided I was ready to go, bad luck or not. It was going to be dark soon, and I didn't want to drive the deer infested route home in the dark. It was a good decision. Just outside of the parking lot I encountered at least 30 deer that of course ran in front of my car. I ran into several herds along the way, but thanks to the sunlight I was able to see them well in advance. I'm undecided if I will ever return. I think the river has some great potential, and those bows put up some great fights, but it's further away than I usually go. I could go chase wipers, smallies and walleye at Willard in the same amount of time. I am curious to see what might happen if I returned under better conditions with more midges and worm imitations though. Time will tell I suppose.

Final Tally: 13 rainbows

Year Tally: 44 fish

Blacksmith Revisited

3/11/2010

I'd been thinking about last week's trip to the Blacksmith Fork quite a bit the past few days. It was a fantastic way to start the season, and I really wanted to get back up there. Well the sun was shining, and though it was a bit on the cold side, I decided to head up there again. I got a late start as I'd been stuck at the hospital cleaning up a bit of a mess that had drug into the wee hours the night before. I realized I only had a couple of hours before I had to return to work again, so I settled on the lower section near the mouth of the canyon. I don't really have a lot of experience with this section as it seems to get the most pressure and I tend to pass it by. It also has a fairly high gradient and isn't always the most fun place to wade. Nevertheless, I trudged down through some soft and mushy snow to the river. Pretty quickly I caught a pretty little brown from in front of a boulder.


That was rather quick, and I was feeling optimistic, but overall the fishing was steady, but not fantastic. I caught six more browns like this one and missed a few more from similar pocket water. Along the way, I pulled a pretty cutt from a large pool where BWOs were hatching. It was tough to get a good drift, but I finally got into a good position parallel to the head of the run and caught him.


He made some nice darting runs about the pool before being led into the net. I pulled another smaller, but equally pretty cutthroat from a shallow riffle a bit later. The last fish of the day was once again the lowly whitefish.


A little smaller than last week's, but he gave a spirited, though rather brief little tussle. Most of the fish took the golden carrot's ear once again, though a few took a dark brown electric p wing nymph. Nothing on top today, though a pretty decent trout shot up to my Turk's and immediately shot back down to the depths. Overall not a bad two hours, but I think next time I'll sacrifice a few minutes to driving time and head upstream. I'm also not especially in love with the old camera I'm now using on my outings, but perhaps I'll get used to it.

Final Tally: 7 browns, 2 cutthroat, 1 whitefish

Year Tally: 31 fish

Finally

3/2/2010

Nearly 4 months in the making, today was the big day: my first fishing trip of the season. It's been an especially bitter, gloomy and generally crappy winter. The only time it wasn't absolutely frigid and foggy was when it was snowing. The temperature really struggled to get above freezing the entire months of December and January. Finally, in the second half of February, Old Man Winter's sadistic little claws began to loosen their grip. It was supposed to be up around 50 degrees today, but alas, another inversion was hunkering down, trying to discourage me from going out. Well I waited as long as I could wait to head out, and around 11 a.m. I finally went for it. After a quick stop by Bep's for a friendly chat and a mug of Dew, I was off. I headed south, Doug Burr gently serenading me as I munched pretzels and sucked down the nectar that is oh so dear to me. Surprisingly there was far less snow in the canyon than there was in my own yard. Still, there was enough of it to make finding an ample pull off difficult. I ascended ever higher. I caught up to a big expensive pickup that appeared to be doing the exact same thing that I was doing. For once my dinky little car came in handy as I eased into a small bit of shoulder that was free of snow. As I got out of the car, a chilly breeze caught me and I began bundling up. I rigged up my little Redington with a small Turk's and a golden carrot's ear dropper. I remembered this nymph really cleaned up last spring, and I was hoping for a repeat performance. I shuffled down a steep hill to an inviting little run. I flicked out my flies, nowhere near as rusty as I expected, and watched the little Tarantula bobbing downstream. Much to my amazement, it popped under on the very first drift. I set the hook against some surprising weight and my line began to shoot downstream. I eventually guided the brute to my net, a lovely fish pushing 18".


Unfortunately it wasn't a colorful trout, but the lowly whitefish. All kidding aside, it was a lot of fun, and I was glad to hook a larger fish after such a long time. I worked the run for maybe five more minutes, missing another whitey and catching one of maybe 16". I moved upstream and plucked a hand sized brown out of a small pocket. The next pocket brought an even smaller cutthroat followed by a little better brown. 6 hits in 15 minutes. Not bad for my first trip out in the early season I thought. Up ahead was a series of amazing looking runs. I squaddled up to the first one, keeping low so as not to spook it's residents. I flipped my flies out, full of anticipation....and nothing happened. In fact nothing happened for the next 45 minutes. I moved up through several nice runs, sweaty and discouraged, wishing I hadn't worn so much wool, and never saw any fish. I reached some really fast, deep water and decided to get out and move upstream a little way. I got to a really deep slow run and could see some fish feeding. I got one decent sized fish to inspect my offering a couple of times, but he just wouldn't commit. I moved a little further up to some faster water toward the head. Finally, I hooked into a couple of small browns and missed another. I switched to a cased caddis larva for the dropper and scored another. The transition to the next run was difficult due to brush and deep water, and in my struggling, I spooked 3 nice trout out of some very shallow water by the bank. I started fishing this faster shallower water, and to my surprise, a nice brown sucked in my Turk's.


And then my dropper. And then my Turk's again. This was more like summer fishing, not early March. The next run brought a refusal on the dry and a miss on the dropper. I wondered if there were still fish down in there that wanted something different, so I switched back to the golden carrot's ear. First cast, fish on. I worked my way upstream popping fish quite frequently. My Turk's drifted past some brush on an undercut, and a 12" brown darted out and snarfed it down.


The next cast brought the same results. I hooked another big whitefish somewhere in there too.


I looked at my watch and much to my chagrin, it showed 2:20. I had to wrap this up an head to work, but first I had to hit a classic run that lay before me. While no more fish rose to the dry, several slurped down the nymph including a spastic brown who thought he was a rainbow, jumping six times, another big whitefish,


and a pretty decent cutthroat.


As I hurried back to my car, I felt satisfied. Even though I only had two and a half hours to fish, it was the best early season first trip of the year I'd ever had.

Final Tally: 14 browns, 5 whitefish, 2 cutthroat

I heart Icelandic Sheep's Wool

I've been busy gearing up for the coming season and have found the coolest material I've used in a long time. Icelandic Sheep's Wool seriously makes the best baitfish imitations. I had to buy it in 8 colors it was so good.


Now if it would just warm up and this cursed ice and snow could melt away so that I can give them a try in the water.

A Year in Review.....and Some Goals for the New Year.

So I’ve decided that there’s no way I’m going to get caught up on last years fishing reports, so I think I’ll just write down some highlights, and some goals for this year.

I didn’t reach my goal of 2009 fish in the year 2009. I fell short at of my goal by 146 fish. It just got too cold, and too busy. I still had a great year though. I caught way more largemouth than I’ve ever caught.

I still haven’t beaten my size record, but I tied it seven times. I learned a ton of new techniques and refined some others. I gained a huge amount of confidence in some lures that I had never done well on before, like crankbaits:

and stickbaits.

I also fell in love with some new ones I hadn’t tried, such as brush hogs:

and shakey heads.

I also found smallmouth.

I was a little afraid when we moved up here that there weren’t any smallmouth nearby. Well I found them, and in a river no less.

I also started making my own lures, and the fish aren’t the only ones that are hooked.

I caught way more musky than last year, and lost many more.

I caught lakers on the fly, as well as my first splake, and a really nice brook trout.

I also caught my biggest rainbow yet.

It’s a shame it was on a spinning rod, I was actually looking for bass.

Though I neglected the rivers this past year, I still had an amazing August afternoon full of nice cutthroat and a pasty surprise on the Logan.

I also hit my first salmon fly hatch.

I happened across some rather tasty perch and walleye in my travels as well.

After such an excellent year, it wouldn't seem that there are many more goals I could have, but I've thought of a few. For one, I really want to catch a tiger musky on a fly rod. Besides getting a nice 8wt, I've been working on some furry concoctions to turn those toothy critters' heads.

I'm also hoping to make it down to Willard this spring to take a shot at some wipers, and I really want to try tying into some big spawning walleyes this spring.

Well, as the snow flies outside, I'm dreaming of a sunny spring day out on the water. I hope it gets me through.