I’ve made an almost-yearly pilgrimage to the “River of Garnet Sands” for over 20 years with various friends and family. [ @Matt B posted his report on the same river here.]
My friend Mike has been one of the more consistent players in these adventures. We’ve been friends for over 40 years since we met summer 1981 at the Friday Harbor Labs on San Juan Island. Our friendship has survived our chaotic academic/professional lives, marriage, kids, etc. Mike taught me the fundamentals of flyfishing in the early 90’s; yes, it is his fault.. This near-annual trip to the ‘River of Garnet Sands” has been an anchor in our friendship. This river is perfect for our “lefty”/”righty” combo; we often fish the same run from opposite sides of the river. That keeps the conversation going and the camaraderie. So, it was great to add a short visit (three nights) here after we fished “Petra Creek” in a neighboring state. Yes, there are rivers with bigger fish (and greater variety). But this one is just so beautiful and we know it so well.
We were only there for three nights, but it was just perfect. Mike’s son and his girlfriend had snagged a primo camping site before we arrived. Mike’s delightful wife, Nancy, joined us as well. The only party missing was my wife who was on San Juan Island working, poor baby (but someone needs to support me in my retirement
…). The weather cooperated: warm but not blazingly hot during the day, cooling rapidly enough after the sun set to justify a roaring campfire (and S’mores) in the evening, and cold at night for cozy sleeping. The winds were light. And unlike “Petra Creek”, flows on the “River of Garnet Sands” were a bit below the long-term average, facilitating wading.
We revisited several of our favorite drifts (and passed on a few of the sketchier ones that involve steep climbs down scree slopes; We aren’t the agile young mountain goats we used to be…).
With bright sun (and warmish waters) and no substantial hatches during the day, it taxed our skill and experience to eke out a few of the colorful cutts that live here. But cutts, bless them, will rise even in the absence of a hatch if the drift is enticing. A small elk-hair caddis fly is a solid searching pattern here.
Even the biggest fish in a pool may rise to examine closely a well-placed cast; but you only have one shot at these orange-bellied “pool-bosses”.
But these same picky fish turn to piranhas for dry flies in the evening; The fishing just gets better and better as the light drops until you are fishing by braille. You cast out by muscle memory as you can’t see the fly landing on the water and you set on any disturbance that appears to be in vicinity of where you predict your fly to be. You just hope that you don’t get a tangle or that you lose your fly; retying in the dark is frustrating, even with headlamps. This is often the sign that it is time to head back to a roaring campfire and the guitars and banjo. [After completing the obligatory tricky crossing of the river to the other bank in darkness.]
My last night was epic, even by the standards of the “River of Garnet Sands”. Mike had gone off to fish with his son (who has developed into an excellent flyfisher); Mike picked up a personal best cutt himself that evening. I was fishing my favorite run solo.
I started off with the old-reliable EHC and picked up a few small to medium fish from the tailout. But this was more the opening act until the curtain rose for the headliner.
As the the evening transitioned into the gloaming, I kept seeing the flights of single yellow sallies making a beeline the streamside willows where each quickly disappeared. This was the only significant hatch that evening. Eventually, I had to cut off the EHC as it was lodged in a hard to access spot in the mouth of a fish.
Perusing my fly boxes for options, I spied a yellow biot-bodied, parachute PMD, the closest match that I had with me to a yellow sally. The fly is very buggy and sits flush in the film.
The fish certainly approved as I caught three nice fish in three consecutive casts.
And even the pool bosses approved of my fly choice. I dropped a cast just at the edge between a fast tongue that penetrates pool and softer inside water. A big head came up confidently to sip the fly and I set the hook – game on. I landed this 14” orange-bellied specimen and hooked two other nice fish that get off before I could slip them into my landing net. If there I saw a rise and I could drop a cast quickly enough, I had a strike. This went on for a solid hour. The fishing finally slowed before full-dark, either because I had played with most of the fish in the pool or because the yellow sallies were done for the evening (most likely…). In any event, it was a great night and a great way to end this visit to the “River of the Garnet Sands”.
Great trip with dear friends. What's not to love.
Steve
My friend Mike has been one of the more consistent players in these adventures. We’ve been friends for over 40 years since we met summer 1981 at the Friday Harbor Labs on San Juan Island. Our friendship has survived our chaotic academic/professional lives, marriage, kids, etc. Mike taught me the fundamentals of flyfishing in the early 90’s; yes, it is his fault.. This near-annual trip to the ‘River of Garnet Sands” has been an anchor in our friendship. This river is perfect for our “lefty”/”righty” combo; we often fish the same run from opposite sides of the river. That keeps the conversation going and the camaraderie. So, it was great to add a short visit (three nights) here after we fished “Petra Creek” in a neighboring state. Yes, there are rivers with bigger fish (and greater variety). But this one is just so beautiful and we know it so well.
We were only there for three nights, but it was just perfect. Mike’s son and his girlfriend had snagged a primo camping site before we arrived. Mike’s delightful wife, Nancy, joined us as well. The only party missing was my wife who was on San Juan Island working, poor baby (but someone needs to support me in my retirement
…). The weather cooperated: warm but not blazingly hot during the day, cooling rapidly enough after the sun set to justify a roaring campfire (and S’mores) in the evening, and cold at night for cozy sleeping. The winds were light. And unlike “Petra Creek”, flows on the “River of Garnet Sands” were a bit below the long-term average, facilitating wading.We revisited several of our favorite drifts (and passed on a few of the sketchier ones that involve steep climbs down scree slopes; We aren’t the agile young mountain goats we used to be…).
With bright sun (and warmish waters) and no substantial hatches during the day, it taxed our skill and experience to eke out a few of the colorful cutts that live here. But cutts, bless them, will rise even in the absence of a hatch if the drift is enticing. A small elk-hair caddis fly is a solid searching pattern here.
Even the biggest fish in a pool may rise to examine closely a well-placed cast; but you only have one shot at these orange-bellied “pool-bosses”.
But these same picky fish turn to piranhas for dry flies in the evening; The fishing just gets better and better as the light drops until you are fishing by braille. You cast out by muscle memory as you can’t see the fly landing on the water and you set on any disturbance that appears to be in vicinity of where you predict your fly to be. You just hope that you don’t get a tangle or that you lose your fly; retying in the dark is frustrating, even with headlamps. This is often the sign that it is time to head back to a roaring campfire and the guitars and banjo. [After completing the obligatory tricky crossing of the river to the other bank in darkness.]
My last night was epic, even by the standards of the “River of Garnet Sands”. Mike had gone off to fish with his son (who has developed into an excellent flyfisher); Mike picked up a personal best cutt himself that evening. I was fishing my favorite run solo.
I started off with the old-reliable EHC and picked up a few small to medium fish from the tailout. But this was more the opening act until the curtain rose for the headliner.As the the evening transitioned into the gloaming, I kept seeing the flights of single yellow sallies making a beeline the streamside willows where each quickly disappeared. This was the only significant hatch that evening. Eventually, I had to cut off the EHC as it was lodged in a hard to access spot in the mouth of a fish.
Perusing my fly boxes for options, I spied a yellow biot-bodied, parachute PMD, the closest match that I had with me to a yellow sally. The fly is very buggy and sits flush in the film.
The fish certainly approved as I caught three nice fish in three consecutive casts.
And even the pool bosses approved of my fly choice. I dropped a cast just at the edge between a fast tongue that penetrates pool and softer inside water. A big head came up confidently to sip the fly and I set the hook – game on. I landed this 14” orange-bellied specimen and hooked two other nice fish that get off before I could slip them into my landing net. If there I saw a rise and I could drop a cast quickly enough, I had a strike. This went on for a solid hour. The fishing finally slowed before full-dark, either because I had played with most of the fish in the pool or because the yellow sallies were done for the evening (most likely…). In any event, it was a great night and a great way to end this visit to the “River of the Garnet Sands”.
Great trip with dear friends. What's not to love.
Steve
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