I just returned from my first "destination" fishing trip. A multi day trip where the only goal was to flyfish. I spent a considerable amount of time planning and prepping for this trip hoping that with enough work, I could will a successful outing into existence. I'm not especially technically skilled or experienced at either fly fishing nor bodies of water outside of short day trips so I was excited and anxious for the experience.
I spent a couple of days making packing lists and tying flies and identifying camping locations before packing and loading up the car Wednesday night. A 4:30 alarm had me pointing the car east by 5:15 and embarking.
Several hours later I ran into stopped traffic on the interstate. After sitting for 15 minutes at a dead stop and seeing no cars coming the other way, I consulted the Gazetteer to find an alternate route. 10 miles of backtracking, 10 additional miles of gravel road, and 90 extra minutes of travel had me at my destination, the end of the road by 3:30. Wow it is gorgeous there.
I set up camp in the USFS campground and strung up rods and was ready to hit the water at 4:30.
I spent the next 2 hours throwing dries to rising cutthroat. I stayed close to camp knowing that dinner and early to bed were in the cards for me, but I ventured 4 river bends upstream trying to understand the structure of the river and what kind of water was holding fish. I learned that any slot, bucket, run, or pool that was mid-thigh or deeper held fish. I was victim to many refusals, especially from the larger fish which I felt was westslope for "your drift was shit, asshole". I did manage to land ~15 of these guys before heading back.
I also learned that the river features hundreds of yards of 8-16" deep riffles then a short run and a pool so there would be substantial wading between prime lies. Luckily the wading was easy: rocks weren't slippery or unstable, flows weren't pushing too fast, easy to cross back and forth across the river.
After a long day of driving, I was asleep in my hammock by 9. No alarm, but I was awake by 6 the next morning to considerably cooler temperatures than expected (low 40s). I had planned cold breakfast of parfaits and cold brew coffee which made for a chilly start to the day, but I knew just how to solve that problem. A hiking trail runs for many miles upstream of the campground so I took off and hiked about 2 miles up to a place the the trail and river separate by a few hundred yards and several hundred feet of elevation. 20 minutes of bushwhacking later had me at a hairpin in the river with a nice pool. I fished the pool with the same EHC catching a few smaller fish before breaking the fly off in the mouth of a medium sized cutty. 1 fly, 20 fish, no complaints. I retired and caught a couple more, working from tailout towards the head. Up near the head I raised a really nice fish twice, getting refusals both times. A quick rod swap to an indicator rig with a pheasant tail and a partridge and peacock SH dropper earned me that fish on the dropper. At 17" it would be my best fish landed for the trip although I had shots at several larger. It took the soft hackle as it slipped around the boulder into the soft inside seam behind the boulder closest to me.
From there I waded and fished my way back downstream to camp. All told I was on the water 8:00-5:30, landed 50-60 fish with a dozen or so breaking 12", missed just as many, thoroughly happy and tired and ready for a beer.
To be continued...
I spent a couple of days making packing lists and tying flies and identifying camping locations before packing and loading up the car Wednesday night. A 4:30 alarm had me pointing the car east by 5:15 and embarking.
Several hours later I ran into stopped traffic on the interstate. After sitting for 15 minutes at a dead stop and seeing no cars coming the other way, I consulted the Gazetteer to find an alternate route. 10 miles of backtracking, 10 additional miles of gravel road, and 90 extra minutes of travel had me at my destination, the end of the road by 3:30. Wow it is gorgeous there.
I set up camp in the USFS campground and strung up rods and was ready to hit the water at 4:30.
I spent the next 2 hours throwing dries to rising cutthroat. I stayed close to camp knowing that dinner and early to bed were in the cards for me, but I ventured 4 river bends upstream trying to understand the structure of the river and what kind of water was holding fish. I learned that any slot, bucket, run, or pool that was mid-thigh or deeper held fish. I was victim to many refusals, especially from the larger fish which I felt was westslope for "your drift was shit, asshole". I did manage to land ~15 of these guys before heading back.
I also learned that the river features hundreds of yards of 8-16" deep riffles then a short run and a pool so there would be substantial wading between prime lies. Luckily the wading was easy: rocks weren't slippery or unstable, flows weren't pushing too fast, easy to cross back and forth across the river.
After a long day of driving, I was asleep in my hammock by 9. No alarm, but I was awake by 6 the next morning to considerably cooler temperatures than expected (low 40s). I had planned cold breakfast of parfaits and cold brew coffee which made for a chilly start to the day, but I knew just how to solve that problem. A hiking trail runs for many miles upstream of the campground so I took off and hiked about 2 miles up to a place the the trail and river separate by a few hundred yards and several hundred feet of elevation. 20 minutes of bushwhacking later had me at a hairpin in the river with a nice pool. I fished the pool with the same EHC catching a few smaller fish before breaking the fly off in the mouth of a medium sized cutty. 1 fly, 20 fish, no complaints. I retired and caught a couple more, working from tailout towards the head. Up near the head I raised a really nice fish twice, getting refusals both times. A quick rod swap to an indicator rig with a pheasant tail and a partridge and peacock SH dropper earned me that fish on the dropper. At 17" it would be my best fish landed for the trip although I had shots at several larger. It took the soft hackle as it slipped around the boulder into the soft inside seam behind the boulder closest to me.
From there I waded and fished my way back downstream to camp. All told I was on the water 8:00-5:30, landed 50-60 fish with a dozen or so breaking 12", missed just as many, thoroughly happy and tired and ready for a beer.
To be continued...
