An Epic Day

Jeff called and wanted to get out and do some fishing and I was more than ready even if it was a weekend. There were people everywhere, but we decided to try and go where we wanted and if it was too busy we had backup plans to float a nearby lake. Luckily, there was only one vehicle at the trailhead, so we loaded up and put some trail behind us before starting to fish. Right away Jeff was into his first fish of the trip on a yellow Chernobyl Ant and he followed that up with two more quick ones! 

It took me a minute, but I found my first fish on a tan Puterbaugh Caddis. We were catching most of our fish on top and they were a good mix of browns and cutts. 

Between the stoneflies we were seeing on the bank, the mayfly spinners over the water and the cicadas in the trees picking a fly pattern to go with was a little tough. Jeff switched to a Chubby Ant in cicada colors and fish started smashing it, I soon followed suit and we had consistent action on the dry fly for the rest of the day! 

We were working our way upstream, trading off fish when I hooked into one that was significantly bigger than what we'd been seeing. The fish ran all the way into the rapids above the pool where we started the fight, then rocketed his way to the riffle below keeping me off balance until Jeff was able to get below him with the net. Not exactly the way you're supposed to fight a big fish, but it worked. This is by far the biggest fish I've seen from this stream and one I'll be remembering for quite some time. 

As we continued to fish our way upstream we had to figure out how to go over, around, or through the many log jams but the great fishing kept us moving forward to see what was around the next bend. We ended up going a lot further upstream than I've ever been from this access point and it only made me want to see more. Every likely spot held a fish that would either smash the Chubby Ant or take our dropper. We didn't have consistent success with any dropper until I put on my old reliable Mod. Hare's Ear and then it seemed like we were catching fish on almost every cast. 

Even though the fishing didn't slow down, we definitely were feeling all the effort that we'd exerted. With a long hike back to the truck, we decided to call it after one particularly good hole that yielded several fish for both Jeff and me. We were so satisfied that we didn't even stop to fish any spots on the way back. Anytime that I can get out and fish is a good day, but this was more than that. We caught lots of fish, some really nice ones, a bunch of them on dry flies and all without seeing another person. It was truly an epic day. 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

A Fisherman's Word

I've been tying a bunch of flies in anticipation of another trip to southern Utah to hit some stillwaters, but when my phone fell out of the car while we were driving it kinda put a snag in my plans.  Fortunately, my son Atley is a technowizard and could fix me up with a temporary phone while waiting for a new screen that he would eventually install for me. Jeff still wanted to get out so we made plans to meet at my house and hit a stream that I hadn't been to in a couple of years. (You can read about that last trip HERE) 

Once we arrived we could hear all the cicadas in the trees and I was really excited to finally get to use the flies that I tied for a trip to the Green River last year (you can read about that trip HERE & watch the video on how to tie the fly HERE).

I caught a nice fish right out of the gate on the cicada, it was a beautiful cutthroat that rose so slowly you'd think it'd never reach the fly. After that, we worked our way upstream, thinking the fishing would only get better the further from the parking area we were. While fighting my second fish on the big dry fly I felt the horrible cracking sound reverberate through my rod and knew that my favorite rod had broken again. (Read about the first time HERE)

Rather than share a rod for the rest of the day, I decided to quickly make the walk back to the truck to swap out my rod for a spare that I'd brought along. This rod was my little fiberglass rod that would make these fish seem like monsters. We were only a half-mile from the truck so it didn't take too long, but while I was gone Jeff caught two fish on dry flies. He was using a 'Top Shelf Hopper' from Drew Looknfishy that you can see how to tie HERE. 

When I got back it took a little time to find some fish, we weren't helped by the fact that every few casts or so we'd have to clean the moss from our flies. The moss made it almost impossible to fish a hopper-dropper rig, so Jeff elected to only fish one fly while I decided to fish two dries. Almost right away the dropper, a Purple Haze, produced fish. One fish rose to look at my flies three times before finally taking on the fourth. 

We worked our way upstream taking turns throwing to all the likely spots and getting a couple of rises out of each. I know we could've caught more fish if we would've been able to effectively fish a dropper, but it was really fun watching all these fish rise to our flies. We caught mostly cutthroat with the odd brown mixed in which kept the day interesting. Late in the afternoon, we decided to call it a day and started our long walk back. We were surprised to see a badger cross our path, but he got out of there too quickly to get any pictures so I guess you'll just have to take my word for it. 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

Try, Try Again

As I've gotten older I've noticed that going alone is starting to lose its appeal, and I'm starting to really search out opportunities to fish with others. Especially if the 'other' is someone like Lane that really knows what he's doing. As usual, we met up before light in a random parking lot and rode the rest of the way together. This time Lane was a little late, so he drove the rest of the way. 

Right away, I hooked into a little rainbow that liked my Zebra Midge but we didn't see another fish for quite a while. What started out promising quickly turned into a rough morning with only a couple of small fish each and almost as many fly changes. There were people everywhere and that made us decide to change spots for the afternoon. On the way back to the truck Lane started picking up some fish by skating a dry fly. Then we watched an osprey dive out of the sky and catch a fish just upstream of us, then it flew a few laps around us showing off its fish. 

When that action subsided we got back to the truck and headed for Plan B. Plan B is a spot that we always leave in our back pocket just in case our day doesn't go the way we hoped. Almost right away, Plan B got us into fish right away on a Wired SJ Worm. 

Fishing is funny sometimes, but it seemed to me like today was my day as I was catching fish with ease while Lane seemed to have to work for each one. Then Lane caught the biggest fish I've seen from this stream and just like that, it was his day.

Right before dark, I managed to catch one on a dry fly which was pretty sweet. I couldn't see my fly, so I'd cast and then just strike if a fish rose where I thought my fly was. It works more often than you'd think. If it doesn't work the first time, you just gotta try again. 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

Back Again

I'm always looking for new places to fish. Sometimes that means heading to a new stream or lake and just trying it out to see what lives there. Other times that means talking with people to see if they'll let a hint drop on where they fish. Usually, people guard their best spots pretty aggressively but if you read between the lines sometimes you can get an idea of where to start looking. Then there are the places that you've been, you know it's supposed to be good, but you've yet to have a stellar day that could turn this occasional spot into a regular. That's the way the stream that I headed to the other day is. It's supposed to be good, but I've only ever caught fish from one little section of it and I've never had a banner day. 

I arrived and decided to walk down a little further than usual before starting to fish, hoping to expand on my successful area. Before deciding which fly to start with I flipped over a couple of rocks to find ridiculous amounts of midges that were very active. So, a couple of zebra midges in red and black went under an indicator and I started fishing the first hole. I played with the depth, starting shallow and working my way deeper but nothing seemed to want to play. Rather than panic and start changing flies, I decided to move up to the next spot to see if that would yield anything. Almost right away I was into a great fish for this size of stream and after a quick fight I had my first fish in hand.

I kept hoping that the midges I'd seen when I first arrived would soon be hatching and I could get some dry fly action but I didn't see any rises. The section above where I'd caught my first fish was pretty shallow, but I did finally manage a couple small fish. 

Then I was back in the water where I usually started, but fishing really didn't improve. The water being so low was definitely making things tough on me because of the nymph rig I was using, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while and I managed another fish. When I went to take the standard one handed picture I noticed the picturesque towering cliffs. It's kinda funny how we can get so focused on what we're doing we sometimes don't notice really cool things around us. 

After this hole I decided to jump back in the car and try a new spot. What I found was basically still water and not what I was hoping for. So, back to the car to head down river and try one more spot before heading for home. What I found was exactly what I was looking for: a meandering river with pools deep enough to hold fish. I thought for sure this would be the prime spot and tried everything I could to get into some. The fish had to be there, but they didn't seem too interested in what I had to offer. I did get into one more fish and decided that was a great way to end my day. Maybe that's how this place will become one of my regular spots, by giving me just enough success to lure me back again. 

Hope you're as lucky, 

Kidder

First of the Year

Ideally, the temperature reaches at least 40 degrees or more to give you a shot at a good midge hatch. Even if the hatch doesn't pan out, those kinds of temps would at least keep the ice out of your guides. You really should invite someone to go with you, just to keep you from getting into trouble out there if nothing else. You could always stay home, and that thought has more than crossed your mind as you lie in bed, but you haven't caught a fish yet this year, and even though it's only been a couple of weeks that still bothers you on a deep level.

Fishing alone does come with its advantages, like not having to share the morning's donuts, and not having to discuss where you'd like to fish today. You know where you're going even if it is a little bit longer of a drive. Not having to run that by someone, or have any compromises feels pretty good sometimes. So you head right to where you want to fish, but the first hole only ties you to a small fish for a moment before he throws the hook. Working upstream produces a handful of missed fish and nothing brought to hand, how long has it been since you last fished? 

Right when you start wondering if it just might not happen today, you catch your first fish. A nice-sized whitefish that fought really well and took your zebra midge perfectly. You know these fish are looked down on in some circles, but you can't help but admire the iridescent scales in the light before accidentally releasing it because whitefish are too strong to hold with one hand like you do when taking pictures of trout. 

Fishing nymphs under an indicator always starts out as a guessing game, then you catch a couple of fish and get that confidence back. Your fly, which a few minutes ago you were about to change, is the one they've been waiting for all morning. You watch your drifts meticulously and set or at least check every time that indicator stalls or dips. Consequently, you start hooking into more fish but is it because your fly is the right one or because you're now fishing it like it's the right one? 

You spot the odd rise across the stream in a back eddy and even though you're still picking up fish on the nymph rig you start planning your approach once you've switched over to the dry. The rises become more regular so you wade back downstream to where you can easily cross and sneak up the other bank. It's a back eddy, so you circle wide and approach from upstream so the fish are facing away from you. A Griffith's Gnat is the fly of choice and as you're tying that on it becomes apparent that the pod of fish is actually one fish that is working around the eddy. The first cast shows that the swirling currents aren't going to make it easy on you, but as the fish works its way back to the head of the eddy you make a good cast that drifts drag-free just long enough to fool the fish. A quick but gentle lift of the rod and you're hooked up with your first fish of the year on a dry fly. 

You could've stayed in bed, slept in, and spent the day checking some honey-dos off the list. Instead, you got out there, braved the cold, and caught some fish. On the ride home, while finishing up the last of the morning's donuts, you're already planning your next trip out. 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

Consistent

Google photos started showing 'memories' like Facebook, and the morning of our trip I had a memory pop up that one year prior, to the day, is when Lane and I hit the same water that we were supposed to fish. It's pretty weird when you're that consistent without even trying! As I worked with the Summer Marching Band program I watched the clouds gather over the area where we were supposed to be heading. Ross claimed that he was too busy to go, but I wonder if those clouds had anything to do with it...

Once I was done working, I made the call to Lane to see what he was thinking and to make sure he wasn't going to bail. As I expected, Lane was still ready to go so we headed out to a small stream where we hoped to find some fish that were willing to rise. Or at very least hit a dropper so we could pretend to be fishing dry flies. We arrived at the empty trail head and decided to hike a little ways from the parking lot, hoping to find some less-educated fish. Started out slow for action on top, but we did manage a few on weighted nymph droppers.

We kept working our way up until we came upon a pool where fish were starting to rise. A couple fell for my purple haze before the rain (and hail) starting falling. The storm ended almost as quickly as it began but a couple minutes after it had stopped the stream changed colors and not for the better. 

A few other fishermen hiked past us as the fishing turned off and we started talking about bailing on this stream and heading somewhere else. It was about this time that we hooked into a couple more fish.

Then the water cleared just as fast as it had clouded up and we started catching fish on top again. Just like that. 

Evening was coming on and thoughts of making the hike back to the truck were intruding on our fishing when I tried swinging a prince nymph (okay, it might've been on accident) and instantly improved the catch rate. It kept working as I caught up to Lane. We switched over to caddis dry flies and started taking turns swinging them to splashy rising fish. Just before the light completely left the water we caught one of the emerging bugs that were making the fish go crazy, it wasn't a caddis but a green drake! 

Luckily, I had a head lamp in my vest that made the hike out much easier. Thoughts of getting back to this stream as quickly as possible to try and hit the hatch again was all we talked about on the hike out and the ride home. Unfortunately, we couldn't line up our schedules for another day of fishing for quite awhile. Oh well, maybe we'll hit it again next year...

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

Playing Hooky

I haven't written in a while. I know, but to be fair I also haven't been out too much either. The end of the summer was spent in my basement playing sheetrock games (there's a crazy story there, but now's not the time or place) and not out chasing fish. Hunting season came and went with only one close call, but I still suck with a bow and missed an elk at a ridiculously close range. Oh well. With all that behind me, I decided to skip out on working in my basement (flooring) and hit a local stream. The best news was Caden decided to join me! 

The stream in question is one that is pretty close to where we live and every time I fish there I wonder why I don't go more often. A beautiful stream, close to home, with some nice-sized fish in the mix. I guess I'm always looking for greener pastures. We arrived around mid-day and quickly hooked into a fish that almost as quickly freed himself from the hook, but it gave us the confidence to move upstream and make another go of it. We spotted some fish that were feeding at the bottom of a small riffle and in a spot where I usually find fish (I do fish here sometimes). It took a little doing, but eventually, the first fish fell for a black and copper Zebra Midge. 

Working our way upstream we came to another great pool and started to fish it. Caden was content playing with the camera while I changed flies and practiced casting. For some reason, another fisherman thought it would be okay to drop in right above us and start fishing. There isn't much stream to fish in this stretch and he parked right next to us, pretended that our day didn't matter, and started fishing above us. I was tempted to go let him know that he'd just pulled a jerk move, but instead, I caught a couple more fish and we walked back to our truck. 

We drove to another spot and found some very spooky fish, but I did manage to trick one more before Caden was too cold and we walked back to the truck. 

After letting Caden get into the truck I fished for a few more minutes just downstream where I could keep an eye on my boy. A couple more fish were anxious to eat a zebra midge and I finished out with the best fish of the day. 

I'm not sure why I haven't been getting out too much lately, but I plan to change that! I'll let you know if I do. 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

After Work

I might be the only one, but I love daylight savings! During the winter months, I often get home after, or near, dark which means there isn't any time to get outside before temperatures drop. This keeps me mostly indoors during the work week which isn't good for my mental health. So, when the time changes and temperatures are on their way up I try to take advantage as much as I can without endangering my marriage (not too much anyway).

On the docket today was one of the small streams in the area that holds fish. Ross was going to meet me on the water for the first fishing we've done together in way too long. Once Ross arrived and wader-ed up we made the hike down to the traditional starting point. It didn't take long for the first fish of the day to decide that he liked the look of my Purple Frenchie. Not a big fish, but a great way to start the evening. 

We decided to head further downstream to some water that Ross hadn't been to in a while. Once we got as far down as we were going for the day Ross didn't waste any time in hooking up on a small brown on a pheasant tail and the action was decently consistent from there on up. As long as we got the flies into the prime spot without any drag, or hitting bottom, the fish were willing. As we worked our way upstream I couldn't help but recall how much the river has changed. There used to be a pool, one of my favorites, where I used to count on hooking into several fish that was now just a small riffle and a sandbar. Wildfires upstream caused tons of silt, ash, and debris, to run into the stream which has changed it significantly. Each year I'm shocked where the stream has made a major change, and very rarely has that change been for the better. But between the fire runoff and severely low water in the late summer, I should probably just be glad that this stream has any fish in it. 

Ross had to take off before I was ready to call it quits, but really I should've just left with him because fishing took a turn for the worse shortly after he left. Not surprising since the sun was setting and the temperatures were dropping. I'm not sure if these little excursions help me to relieve stress, or to be a better teacher, but I'm pretty sure they don't hurt! I'm looking forward to getting out again as soon as possible. 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

Not The Same

There's always the desire to re-create success. However, sometimes it's best to move on and find new successes because no matter how good the second time is it can't live up to your memories. But with the success of the last trip (read about that Here) I couldn't wait to get back to the stream where we had such fast action. So, I was on my way to Jeff's house in the early morning with thoughts of lots of trout to be caught and even some hopes for some larger fish. 

In preparation for the return trip, I made sure to replace some of the flies that we'd lost during the previous trip and a few extras so we had plenty. The Purple Frenchie that had been so productive was at the top of the list, but I also tied up a few other variations just in case purple wasn't the color of the day. 

Jeff was ready to roll when I arrived at his house, so we didn't waste any time to get to our first spot. This was a spot that we've heard holds some really nice fish at certain times of the year, so we wanted to be the first ones to hit it for the day. Once we were rigged up and started fishing a couple hundred sheep came up to get a drink. Luckily, they tend to stay out of the water so we weren't too worried about them spooking any fish. The complicated currents and deep water made getting a good drift difficult, but we were shocked when we had no strikes and saw no fish. With no signs of life, and having exhausted our fly choices, we decided to move to an area where we had lots of success the other day. It didn't take more than a few casts for Jeff to hook into fish and get the skunk off of the day. 

It certainly felt like the day was going to take off as Jeff hooked into another brown on the purple Frenchie and I was itching to get in on the action. We started working our way upstream to fish some of the bigger pools, but the fishing really seemed to slow down. We were still making contact, but not nearly as often as we had hoped. 

Something was definitely different so we turned over a few rocks and even pumped one fish's throat hoping to figure out what was going on to get our catch rate up. The fish were feeding on midge pupa that were very active, and plentiful. We changed up our flies to match the hatch and picked up a few more fish, but our catch rate didn't go up like we'd hoped. I'm not sure, but I think with so many flies available to the fish we only caught the ones that we happened to drift our tiny flies right to. With evening coming on Jeff caught one more fish in what seemed like would be our last hole of the day. 

We moved upstream to see what was around the bend and I saw something that I've been looking forward to since last fall, rising fish. These fish were spread out in shallow water sipping off the surface. I tied on some 6x tippet and connected it to a large Purple Haze to act as an indicator and tied an RS-2 emerger as a dropper. My leader was pushing 14 feet long with some fine tippet, so I was shocked when the first fish that I worked up to spooked. I didn't think that my set-up needed any adjustment, so I approached the next fish as stealthily as I could and made sure to not let my leader land where the fish was feeding. While he didn't spook, the fish also didn't buy what I was selling and before I could switch out my dropper all the fish in the pool stopped rising. 

Rather than re-rig and try to dredge up one more fish we decided to call it and make the walk back to the truck. The fishing was less than what we'd hoped for, but it was a good day on the water with good company and we even found a few willing fish. Who could ask for more? 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

From Here On

As I get older it feels like time is speeding up on me. Three weeks flew by and I had forgotten that Lane and I had made plans to hit a stream together. Luckily, our region's Jazz Festival was at his school so I ran into him while working and he reminded me of the plan. It was also lucky that my back had recovered from whatever I did to it that made moving and bending almost impossible. Of course, the weather report was a little more on the unlucky side with the brief return of winter lining up exactly when we were supposed to be on the water. 

I'm not sure why, but lately I've been putting off packing for an outing until the morning of. This is really dumb since it almost guarantees me forgetting something, and usually that something is really important. This time it was my sweatshirt and coat. I'd remembered the fleece jacket that I wear underneath, but the outer layer was left home. Lane reminded me that the night before his wife had told me to "Dress warm," I thought she was just taunting me but it turned out to be prophetic. 

I decided to try and tough it out and we hit the water, starting on a stretch that I've never caught a fish from. I've only fished it for a few minutes a couple of times, usually electing to skip the crowds and drive past this section to the slightly less busy areas beyond. At this point, it's kinda weird that I'd never caught a fish here, so a deeply drifted midge eaten by a nice, darkly colored brown was exactly what I was hoping for. I had another fish on momentarily, but not much action other than that. The shivering told me it was time for at least a break in the truck with the heater on full blast, but Lane was ready for a change in scenery and we left for a different section of river. A quick stop at the local Sportsman's Warehouse and I had an extra sweatshirt for the rest of the day. 

The change in scenery wasn't necessarily a change in luck, as we struggled initially to find willing fish. Although, I did come across half of a fishing pole that looked like it had been under the water for a long time.

As usual, it was Lane that figured out where they were and didn't take long for him to catch a couple of bows. I made my way down to see what was working when I hooked into a small bow on an egg pattern. Lane put on a 'Double Yolker' and hooked into his best fish of the day.

When a few fish started rising, Lane switched over to a dry fly but I stuck with the egg hoping to find a nice sized fish of my own. It didn't take long until I had a better-sized one on the end of my line.

Another change in scenery, and another quick warm-up in the truck and the fishing was completely different. This new section seemed to hold a lot more fish, with most being on the small side, but there were a few good-sized fish to keep things interesting. Lane caught a couple on a San Juan Worm, but the fly they really wanted was a Purple Frenchie. This fly has been amazing for me so far this year! 

We caught fish until the sun went down and temperatures plummeted, but we weren't really that cold until we were trying to get out of our frozen waders. A stop for some carne asada was the needed cure and made for a great way to end a good day of winter fishing. It's only going to get better, and warmer, from here on out! 

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder

A Bonus

Hopefully you and your loved ones are doing well in these crazy times. The world has changed in these few, short, weeks. We are more of a world-wide community than ever before and yet we're more isolated and alone too. Strange days. I've been trying to stay active, even going so far as to actually working on some projects around the house, but sometimes you just have to get out.

After finishing with my work for the day I headed out in spite of the weather being a little colder and a little more blustery than I'd like. Trying to be as responsible as possible, I stayed pretty close to home and made it a solo trip to maintain my social distancing. The plan was to walk downstream from where I usually park and then fish my way back to the truck. To help fight the temptation to stop and fish every spot on the way down I didn't rig up my rod right away. It worked great until I saw a rising fish that was too tempting. I'm yet to really figure out how to fish downstream with anything other than a streamer, so it didn't take long to spook the fish.

In an attempt to become a better fisherman, I've decided that this year I'm going to try and use a longer leader whenever possible. Twelve to fourteen feet long probably isn't that much for a lot of you, but I'm struggling to be accurate with it! Maybe I need to re-evaluate my leader construction...

I finished walking down to my target starting spot and quickly hooked into a fish that just as quickly came unbuttoned. It was only a minute later that a tiny brown came to hand and I started making my way upstream. The next fish to hand was the only rainbow I've ever caught on this stream! (Really weird, but I didn't take a picture!?!) I switched flies quickly whenever I came upon a rising fish, but most were caught on a prince nymph under an indicator. 

Despite the day being a little cold, the wind a little too high, the water a little low (with lots of moss), it still felt great just to get out for a couple of hours! The fish were just a bonus.

Hope you're as lucky,

Kidder