Day II - Yellowstone Cutthroat – Tales of the Black Spot

MFRW, Grizz and Ralphy were already up when I crawled out of my tent and into the morning twilight. Hard frost covered the morning ground. You could see your breath in the crisp breezy air, it was cold. The smell of backcountry coffee was beautiful, nothing like a Jetboil French press way out here. We watched the sky change colors over the wild landscape while sipping our hot cup of Joe. The light was slowly making its way over to the ledge of the canyon walls; it's only a matter of time before it drops in. The river was singing and Neil young was rocking the hell out of the Ford speakers as we rigged for the day.

The hike felt good. We took the high road and quickly passed where we finished the day before. A few more turns and we could see the "big right hander" way up ahead. It's where the walls come close together, creating a bottle neck. We are almost there… well, that's what we've been saying for a few hours now. No sign of people, no billboards, no T.V, no foot prints, no tire tracks – although MFRW found a huge old wrench, really old… and really heavy. They don't build them like they used too. Other than that, it's an empty playground filled with water, grass and nature.

Along the way we picked up fish. Some of the guys were tossing large oversize foam Chernobyl ant patterns accompanied with droppers. The crazy black spotted Cutthroats ate our offerings with picky, picky attitudes. Fishing was tough for a minute there. By mid day I finally opted for the old stand by streamer: the SDungeon and had some action. Don't get me wrong, everybody got into fish that morning, we just had to really work for it.

Nearing the "big right hander" you can see the river is split in two by an island. The island is 50 feet long and is covered in very tall grass, which is well overhead. From a distance it looks like a huge chi-a-pet in the middle of the river. MFRW and Grizz were above Ralphy and me. They took the left so we took the right. The wind was blowing hard through the passage way, at this point gusts were in the above average range.

After crossing the river to the tail of the island I looked over to see Ralphy'. He was obviously trying to tell me something. I could tell by the way his mouth moving, but no words were heard due to the wind. I yelled back "I can't hear you" just for the fun of it. He must have read my lips because gave me the universal sign for moose by putting his hands out at eye level and spaced apart shoulder with, then adding a slight bobbing motion form side to side. Then he pointed up towards the tip of the island. Great! I crossed back over and met up with him.

From our position we could see two moose right in the middle, blocking our way. A bull with rather large paddles and a cow were standing on at the tip of the island. We could see Grizz and MFRW on the left side of the bank directly across from them. We have somehow managed to accidently surround the moose; they are trapped in the middle. We thought it was best to cross and meet up with guys. That way the moose have an easy escape route and hopefully won't feel exposed.

Meeting up with the guys we realized how close they really are…err…we are, to the moose. Chili, Grizz's trusty side kick, was out in front pacing back and forth between her master and the threat. A few, twenty, feet away the female moose was not all smiles. Her ears were cocked back and you could tell she was not happy. The dog was fearless. Pacing back and forth and barking if she felt the slightest movement towards us. It was awesome to see a mountain dog command authority like that. She tried to persuade the moose to move along but it just wasn't going to happen. We had no choice but to turn around and fish our way back to camp.

Chili was awesome. I have seen her is action before and have witness some amazing river crossings. But this time it was different. No way was she giving up any ground and I'm certain that she would fight to the death if something were to happen…. That's loyalty right there. Almost makes me want to get a dog… almost. Chili is definitely part of the team and she earns her keep every trip. I suppose that why she gets to eat steak, ribs and sometimes even dog food.

We fished streamers on the way back and had a blast. Tomorrow we are heading out. Not sure where were headed, well just figure it on the road… as usual.

Yellowstone Cutthroat – Tales of the Black Spot

Four guys, one boat, one dog and three days of fishing...........

It was good to get back on the road again. It's been four long days of work since the last time I was on the water. The thought of willing Cutthroats taking dry flies helped me get through it, and now the sound of the pavement soothes my impatient core. I am excited for this week's trip. Don't get me wrong, I love my home stomping grounds but I'll jump at any chance to explore new terrain.

Leaving the eye level playing field and dropping down into the gut of a once buried treasure I was stunned. This hidden river flows through a catastrophic man made disaster, it's where one of the nations worst engineering disasters took place, a dam collapsed and a river runs through it. Grizz talked of Black spot Cutthroats that swim here and the odd speckled bumps that cover these fish. He explained it was a unique parasite that looks like black pepper, feels like it too. He also spoke of the scenery.

Making our way down a rocky road with a life threatening drop on the one side we got a gimps of what lies ahead. Grizz was right. The scenery is spectacular! The river is down deep in a canyon, enclosed with towering reddish-brown walls, lined with lush green grass and fall colored brush. Driving by you would never think there is a river nearby, or water for that matter. It's hidden from everyday sight…but its right under your nose.

At our riverside camp you notice the grass is over-your-head-tall and there is little sign of human activity….its paradise and it's our playground for the next few days.

It's hard for me to descried in words the way I feel inside when I string my rod. My veins are filled with a power and a grace that is irrefutable. I feel every drop of adrenalin move throughout my body. The sounds of nature is concert loud, the echo of music is influential. It is here when I emerge from the darkness of my own mind and crawl into the light of nature. Reborn to the life I live, in a place where I belong. I first felt this over twenty-five year's ago. Oddly, the feeling hasn't diluted over the years but gained in potency. It has been the driving force of my world adventures, my obsolete bank account and the lack of everyday amenities that most folks take for granted.

The river was alive and greeted us as such. The first few casts produced mind boggling aggressive hits. I lost my first fish, not sure what happened. The oversized foam fly was minding its own business when out of nowhere a large surface explosion threw water every which way. I felt my line go tight and before I could react to the surprise, the fish was off. What the hell was that? Laughter broke out and excitement gripped us tight. Today is going to be a good day.

Ralphy and I took the right hand braid, MFW was on the left and Grizz took the boat out to targeting the pool sized pond in the middle of the river. Ralphy noticed fish sipping mayflies off the surface, he quickly changed flies and in no time he was tight. About the same time MFRW was releasing a fish and was into another a few casts later. Things were looking good.

As we explored the river it was hard not to notice the walls rising high above us. Shaping and forming the meandering water while keeping things tucked neatly away from the public eye. I grabbed my camera and decided to climb up for a better shot. Half way up on a small perch that overhangs the water I sat with my camera in hand and observed the world around me. The feeling was surreal, my thoughts were loud and nature was silent. What a view.

I watched Raplhy fish from high above. I have never really watched anyone fish from this point of view before. It gave me another outlook to the art of fishing and I couldn't help but to take notes. The cast was elegant; each forward stroke oozed smooth subtle power. He is fishing with precisions accuracy and his style just flows. I find myself learning about the cast. I relate back and forth the similarities in snowboarding and doing things smooth with delicate power is key. Having style counts for more than high end mechanics or hacking together a 90foot cast. Mastering basic fundamentals in order to excel is nothing short of the truth. Yet, it is one of the hardest things to make your self do – practicing the essentials. Watching Ralphy you know that he practices, trains and exploits the use of understanding the basics principals in order to have style. After all, everyone is so good nowadays, it comes down to one thing…style, and Ralphy absolutely has it.

My mind was not on the fish, but my camera . More and more I find myself behind the lens. After shooting Ralphy directly underneath me, I wanted to get a different viewpoint on things. That's when I looked behind me to see a picture perfect shot. In the distance MFRW was making his was up river directly into the frame. I fumbled through every setting imaginable to try and get the shot just perfect. Although the actual picture is way out of my league, I tried my best to get a clean crisp image. MFRW was moving into position and the sun just moved into the top left corner, perfect… I snapped a few off… few as in 2 gigs. Switched through all my lenses, all 2 of them, and I still found myself wishing I had better equipment. But in the end I am happy with it, could be better of course, but not too bad for a rookie like me.

I learned a ton shooting this picture, like there is more to pictures than just pushing a button. I am just trying to understand the basics at this point and everyday is a learning experience and I am enjoying every minute of it.

Making our way back to camp we lit a fire cooked some steaks and talked fish, life and politics…just kidding, no politics. We agreed to head deep into the canyon in the morning, who knows what we might find.

The Fall Run of the Rocky Mountain Kokanee

In the mist of the Rocky Mountains swim a trapped Salmon specie, more specifically the Kokanee Salmon; landlocked form of sockeye salmon, both die after spawning. Konanee Salmon - Oncorhynchus nerka - was originally described by Walbaum in 1792 from sockeye taken in Kamchatka. The scientific name is Greek for "hooked nose of flowing waters".

I have caught Kokanee in lakes as a kid. The sleek fish were streamlined build with brilliant steel sides and dark blue backs were fun to troll for. At the time I didn't think much of it. At the time I was just a kid, fishing for anything, especially if it was a boat (a rare event). A few years ago I thought about them again and set out to find the schools of landlocked finned wonder. But this time I was interested in seeing them in full color, view the metamorphosis.

I know what happens, I know how it all works, I am familiar with these fish BUT it's mostly paper knowledge. I have only had the chance to fish for them a few times. Each experience I leave the water with a rejuvenated mind set. I thought many times how awesome this is to witness as I watched the cycle of life happen right before my eyes

During the spawning season the fish transform from the shiny silver bodies to dark red. Their head ranges in color from a florescent greenish hue to a deep dark green. The head is bluntly pointed and narrowed snout and small stark white teeth line the jaws. Breeding males have a more compressed head and body with a prolonged, hooked, turned up snout and a hump before the dorsal fin. The teeth protrude and line the jaws, it's a site to see. And then there is the striking color change… deep dark to freshly painted bright red., their head ranges in color from a florescent hue to a dark green. What A sight.

Once again it was that time of year, autumn. Ralphy had the day off, I did as well, and at the last minute we grabbed our gear and headed to the desert to find the landlocked Salmon… and other fish.

We learned some new stuff, such as last years spawning grounds were ghost towns this year, go figure. There is a cycle to where the lower river spawning runs occur. After finding these fire red fish I decided I had to bring one to hand and coaxed a single Kokanee to my fly. Ralphy snapped some pictures before we wandered on, following the blue water to wherever it might go.

All Salmon photos courtesy of Nate Miller

It was a fun day of exploring new stretches of river - all while looking for fish of course. We found some Kokanee schools in places that were bare the prior year. I have wanted to go back, to see the final stage of a fish with a purpose. Stay tuned for the return.

Check out Nate's cool stuff at -->http://www.flickr.com/photos/32854617@N08/

Test Run – Cheech’s Fly #317.5- B

We were headed home from a lake adventure. As usual we all were still eager to fish. Somewhere on the road we decided to take a small. I had a few flies burning a hole in my pocket...err…waders that I wanted to toss on the river; it was a win-win in anyone's book.

For the next few hours I spent a lot of time looking at the scenery. It was awesome. Each time I find myself saying the same thing, "this is the best day of fall colors ever", funny how every time seems to be "the best day". But today the feeling was perfect, the lighting was awesome; it gave nature a great contrast. It also gave me just another justification to why I spent most of my time out here… out there… you know what I mean.

I rigged up with a fly was that tied by my good friend Cheech. He is always coming up with crazy ideas and is always looking for feedback. Lucky for me I get to see the samples before the finished product, some stuff works, some doesn't, and each time the pattern is perfected. Perhaps a reason why his stuff is so productive might actually be all the fails, tweaks and miscalculations. Knowing exactly what you don't want in order to create something takes a lot of time and a ton of problem solving. I like how he takes his time to work on a pattern, investigate what the insect and material performs under a variety of conditions. Today was a perfect example of thinking outside the box… Cheech's "Scubahopper" series.

This particular fly is just part of the "Aquahopper" series that is coming out of depths of Cheech's basement. It's other half for is a shallow water swimmer, the "Snorkelhopper". These flies were designed to cover the entire water column -from fast shallow riffles to small deep pockets. Each fly has a specific purpose…. Well, that's the hope anyway.

After loosing the "Snorkelhopper", a great loss as it's really been a go-to for me, I tied the "Scubahopper". I was faced with a fast deep run with a small soft pocket tucked neatly to the side. A normal drift of a nymph wouldn't be able to get to the location, or if you could, it needs to be heavy to get down fast. I was really excited at this challenge; it was a perfect test to see if the theory matches the performance. A few casts later I had a perfect drift, tight to the side pocket. The line went viciously tight and I was rewarded with a nice Brown Trout.

It was a great to see that the fly performed exactly what its purpose was. It was a really fun fly to fish, it makes you switch up tactics and it makes you target specific locations that you might otherwise overlook or tricky spots that are difficult to get into….. I just wish that hopper season wasn't over.

To learn more about Cheech and his crazy flies check him out at……….http://flyfishfood.blogspot.com/

Fall on the Berry

The old knights at the rectangle table have been slaying it on the berry. It pays to be quiet and observant when buying tying materials at the shop. Needless to say, I caught wind of it. I did what any brother would do, I called the crew. We packed the gear and headed out the door.

Walking down the trail the sound of frost could be heard crunching beneath your feet. Looking ahead, the path to freedom funneled into a thick, dark fog. The fog was level with the surrounding hillside. Just last week the aspens still had the gold coat shimmering in the morning light. Now they are bare and seem quite distant standing there in shades of black and white. Winter is coming.

Stillwater really isn't my game, but its fun and challenging… especially from shore… with a fly rod. But this is when the fish start cruising into the shallows and some really good fishing catching can be had. Armed with a few dozen too many flies I followed the crew into the fog.

It started of pretty slow. Small feisty 12inch Rainbows passed the time between the hours spent casting and stripping. Although nobody was complaining, we were looking for Cutthroats.

By mid day a few Cutthroats had been landed but not the numbers we were anticipating. We decided to work out way back to the car. Casting and walking, leapfrogging one another along the shore. We all picked up a descent Cutthroat by the time we hit the trail.

No one fly or color stood out. I think a dozen different patterns produced today… but one in particular made an impression. It was right at the end so very little information was gathered. But I am going home to gather more ammo. I will be headed back here soon.

A Long Walk - Forbidden Water

Now back to the previously scheduled blog post....







As many of you know Utah's water is now free!! There are a few stipulations to beware of such as not crossing private property, being respectful, using common sense (if you have it), and obvious things really. This has opened many rivers that I have wanted to fish and finish.... uh, legally. I am an believer that all water is free and none should ever be private. I feel that water, not Oil, is our most precious resource, it's our right and our lifeblood. This summer I have mapped out a few of my local rivers from the beginning to the headwaters. Many trips are long days, with longer walks and its not as easy as I thought it would be. Sure there are a few places that are easily accessed but that's not really appealing to me. I always wonder what lies ahead, it motivates me and this trip was one of those long days with a 12-hour walk.

Yesterday was a long day, 4 hours of diving, fishing till dark, and then coming home to work on the computer, etc. By the time I fell asleep Andy was here, right on time. I was still sleeping when he knocked on the door, I hate when this happens. It's 5am. After my initial panic wore off we were in the truck within 5 minutes...about 5 minutes later it started. I felt a little sick, odd for me but my stomach was killing me. I thought of how tasty last nights breakfast-dinner was, how the eggs and potatoes went well with my burnt toast and strawberry jelly. I thought I was going to loose it, I opened the door and let out a quickie. The light turned green and away we went. On the freeway heading to the rendezvous point, I was feeling it again. "Pull over" I yelled, or whined not sure, it was there I lost my lunch.. er.. dinner, I mean, breakfast-dinner on the side of the freeway, in early morning traffic. Back on the road I felt a bit better.

We met up with Grizz at the store; I pounded some water, a Gatorade and a Red Bull. Ahhh, I feel better now. Its a good thing because we had our work cut out for us.


The morning was cold, the first major frost was on the ground and you could definitely see your breath. This is the first big cold snap of the year... hope the fish don't mind.

The day started out slow and picked up as the sun came out. We all thought it would be best to target the "happy water", the runs. The river is low, many areas area's appear non-flowing (frog water) so hurried though these areas. With time ticking we really needed to keep moving.

Grizz was slaying it, again, and landing some fat little Cutthroats and Browns. Andy did his part to bring the fish to the surface and was rewarded with success. I had a few, lost a few and really wanted to hook a few that I missed.







It was a great adventure. It's nice to explore a stretch of water that was forbidden for so many years. It was better than I had hoped for... it wasn't easy. I hope that the law never changes and that anglers and landowners can meet at common ground. So if you're out there enjoying the freedom, please respect the land... and pick up any trash. It would be a shame to see this overturned due to angler.

The Day of Days - Fish of a Lifetime

......A brief interruption on my "always late on posting" blog to bring you the latest fall fishing adventure.......
Word seems to really spread fast, so I'd thought I post it. Here is the short of of it -->







Madison Brown Caught 10/28/2008
photos by Grizz / Tree Photo by Me

Measured 32 1/2" by 18 1/2"...
the math says it's 15.9 ~ 16.4 pounds.
http://flyfishingresearch.net/images/FFR_Fish_Weight_Lookup_Table.pdf

Rod - Echo 9' 6wt
Fly - Bennet Stone (A.K.A Pat's Stone/A.K.A Rubber Legs)
10-12lb Leader









So many things were going through my mind.... I spotted the large fish holding in the tail end of the run. The first cast produced a swipe at my fly. The second cast I saw "jaws" swipe at it... a different fish? Must be. This was confusing... what size are these two fish? Perhaps the first fish I saw was not 20" but really 10" and the second fish is the 20 incher? Another cast produced...drum roll... nothing. I thought about the situation, then thought about it again. I have a sink-tip on and a large streamer, damn. I thought about switching colors, reels, lines, tippet, leader and a hundred other things. Thinking I was faced with a large 22+ fish I didn't want to blow it... If I would have know it was 32" I would have blown it for sure ; ) I left on the sink-tip, didn't bother with an indicator and tied on a SJ worm figuring it's a probable take. I cast up stream and set the drift....rejected. Sh#$! Now what, should I make another cast? Change the fly? I opened my box and grabbed a Bennett Stone (A.K.A Pat's Stone / A.K.A Rubber Legs). A good drift produced.... a spook? Sh#$!! Damn!! F*^@!!!! The spook turned out to be more of a move, slightly over and up to the left, I can see it holding. To hell with it, I made another cast and drifted it down. The fish nonchalantly moved its head slightly over, did it take it? am I tight? what happened?... I set the hook. Nothing happened. I pulled again felling resistance but nothing happened. Am I snagged? A good hard tug awoke the beast. I now realized that this 20+ inch fish might be a little bit bigger, because it was running up river at will. The fish stopped at a near by snag before turning around for a run downstream. As it ran past me I saw the actual size. I believe I yelled "help" out loud : ) Not really sure why but I remember thinking how am I going to land this thing by myself, but I managed. The fish tried to do everything you can think of to get free. I would love to tell you that the fish fought for an hour but it was around 5 minutes. When it came to hand I realized how big this fish really is. Grizz called it a "Trophy's Trophy, it's what trophy Trout want to grow up and be". We were both so happy to see such a beauty. Truly a humbling experience.... Truly a fairy tale.... Oh how I love the Rockies.





I was shaking uncontrollably for awhile. A million thoughts were going through my head. Coming back to Rocky Mountain Trout after a Salt Water stint I feel its finally come full circle. This fish is what I have been dreaming about my entire life, since I was a Kid... actually I think I was dreaming of a smaller version of this fish but this will surely do. I never thought it would happen and honestly, a part of me didn't want it to for fear that the search would end. I enjoy the search more than anything, its actually what drives my fishing, my vision, my life. The finding part is supposed to be small teasers luring you back again and again, never to end. This is a Trout of a lifetime. I was at a loss for words then and still am now.... I am so stoked and on the river I almost cried.