Lower River Browns

The home team had the chance to go float the Green last week from the dam down to Swallow Canyon. The water was clear and cool between 1600 and 3000. We camped at Red Creek on river right. This is a beautiful camp spot in a big left hand bend with great views upstream and downstream. Get this: every fish in the net from Red Creek down was a Brown trout! The river below Jarvie fished like a private spring creek. We were the only boat for eight miles. Jimbo got busy eating two tone tan cheynoybil ants, stimmies, and tan elk hair caddis. There was the thickest Yellow Sallie hatch I've ever seen most of the afternoon, and a small creamy mayfly mixed in with the caddis all day. Up at Little Hole Steve-O had told us to try pulling caddis under water, and that worked whenever the gink gave out. The lower Green is such an elusive water to try to fish consistently. This is the first time in over a year and three separate trips that I have seen her clear. One of the cooler aspects of this stretch, besides the remoteness and awe inspiring scenery is that the trout are truly lower river Browns. Lower river alot of times means less crowds. The over achieving Rainbows like pushing up to the top in "Upper B", and "A" and fin against riffles. Rainbows in the Green don't have a gut like a Brown. They probably don't eat bbq. Don't misunderstand I like the Rainbow just fine, even though he is a bit of a show off... big pink stripe look at me type of fish jumping out of the water. The Browns in the Green have a good thing going down in their stretch of river. Their diet is unique to the rest of troutdom. The bio-diversity is stunning. Rumor has it the Lobo is afoot down there.

Springtime in the Rockies

It's spitting snow this morning. The snow flakes are globbed together and coming down erratically at sharp angles. Old Man Winter is named Billy Bob, and he's not going off stage easily. Ten miles from Hog Island is Buff (Buffalo) Pass last week the snow depth measuring site up there set an all time state record. That's any month anywhere ever since records were kept. Heck yeah! This is quality ammunition to tell the Grandkids on their way to the school bus. The Yampa hit a little 5 day window in there when the temps stayed low, and it snowed, and the run-off slowed down to where fishing looked up. Here's a cool picture of Carlos floating and holding a fat Rainbow on May 1 with the ski hill in the background. Springtime in the Rockies!

Year End on the Upper C

Each year on some random sunny day in November reality sets in that my Brown trout friend, Big Jim Brown, is going to sleep in the cold water of the Colorado River. Like any helplessly insane fish head, I like to cast about two thousand times to make sure. This year that happened yesterday. Check out the pic above... sunshine, November, and cold water, and Big Jim is settling in for a long winter nap.

Two weeks ago the streamer fishing in the river was great. It seemed like there were two or three fish behind every rock. We were catching fish in places where they never are. Everyone I talked to that had been floating then said the same thing. It was on!

Since then it's been snowy and cold and frosty at night and sometimes tricky sunny during the day. It's that hour or two of tricky sunny during the middle of the day the last two weeks that had me believing.

As it went, we launched on the Upper Colorado well before noon under cloudy skies with snow and rain in the distance. The water temp had slipped to 40, and the fish, every one a Brown, were picked up on slowwww moving hooks. The sun came out bright and shiny every once in while, and that was about the pace of the fishing. When we made plans to go on Thursday we were wearing t-shirts in the sun. When we launched eight of us were wearing a over a 100 lbs. of fleece and waders, and everyone was wearing a winter hat.

What makes these floats memorable is the other hope filled fly flingers along for the ride, and the chatter that occurs when people try to talk a fish on their line. I like the count down... This happens when someone throws a great cast in the perfect place and goes: "3,2,1... boom!" Sometimes it works. As the day floats by the countdown is often repalced by a phrase from a song or movie like "Jimmy don't you know my name?", or "baby, baby, please, baby, please".

Geen River Brown's Park 3/29/10

I have had a trip planned to the Green for a month or so to deliver a boat to Trout Creek Flies. They now have one of our boats for rental, which is a great way to enjoy a day on the river, and be in one of our boats. Here's a link to their web site... http://www.fishgreenriver.com/ From here you can make a reservation.

Doug agreed to meet me in Brown's Park, and save me from having to drive all the way up. I mentioned the prospect of a "D" float to a couple of folks, and we came up with a plan to camp Sunday night, and float Monday. This was new water below Swallow for all of us. . The river down there is dominated by cut banks, gravel bars, and grass beds. We saw herds of deer, lots of geese and ducks, canyon beaver, and open range beaver, red tail hawk, and maybe an otter. The fish we caught were all Browns. The weather was variable. It could have snowed once or twice, When the wind wasn't howling it was almost warm. The sunny and warmer day before must of kicked Red Creek loose. The water color was a little off.

Here's a nice fish Herb caught. I'm thinking it's a little over 20". He ran into this one lurking between two refrigerator size clumps of grass about ten feet off a very steep bank. It ate a small black leech. We threw tandem rigs, and big segmented numbers, but the most productive was a # 8 or so single streamer. The fish didn't necessarily cartwheeel over the top. The water is still cold. The Green is lining up to having an old fashion kind of good year. The water is running a steady 900 out of the dam. I'll be heading back to check in on our boat, and see how the blue wings are coming along around the terrace pool.

1-70 Grizzly Creek to Glenwood Springs

I went down to 1-70 yesterday for a float on the Colorado below Shoshone with Scott Richter. Scott hooked up with our last blemished hull in the early summer. We got on the river about 1 and pulled off at 4:30. This was a mission to get in a float during the warmest part of the day. I always try to be on the sunny side of the street when heading into missions like this. There wasn't any slush in the river, but plenty of ice on the edges. The rocks where the creeks come in were iced over in a real winter kind of way, and the snow was not melting very fast as far as I could tell. Check out that deep canyon in the background. Beauty.

The temps started at 11 degrees and warmed up to 46. That's pretty balmy in the sun with a couple of layers of fleece and gloves. I have not floated that stretch much. I like it. It's dramatic. The canyon run has plenty of riffles, pour overs, and ledges, and some super fishy water. Just enough rowing dodging stuff to keep you warm. One of the perks floating now is there are no crowds. We saw a couple of duck hunters walking the bank who were watching their dog on the other side of the river looking for a duck, an Amtrack train, and that was about it for humans. The fishing was predicted to be slow, and it was. The water temp is in the high 30s. We saw a dozen or so fish come up in a foamy seam for a light colored midge we saw hatch for about half a mile. We had the best luck having fish chase a size 4 yellow streamer with a lot of feather. I was psyched to see a couple of fish get riled up that were holding in a couple of feet of moving water over rocks off the bank. I know it sounds small, but this time of year with everything around here heading for the deep freeze it's cool to see it. Always on the sunny side of I-70.

Family Adventure in Desolation and Gray Canyons

I have heard about Desolation and Gray Canyons for years now, but have never had the chance to do the trip. JW Powell named these canyons in 1869 on his epic journey. They are on the Green River in Utah after the confluence of the Yampa and White. In certain circles this trip is known for the brutal shuttle, mosquitos, and being incredibly remote. One of our rigs popped a tire on the way in, and the mosquitos are (string of four letter words). One of my sons had 35 bites on his face after our tent zipper failed the first night. Duct tape, and a new door through the window fixed that for the rest of the trip.

The first two days of the 85 mile odyssey had wild horses on the ridges. I have never been floating on a river where wild horses are hanging out. I know this sounds corny, but you can't believe how cool it is is to be sharing the river with these animals. Sometimes we would see them, and sometimes we would hear them neighing to each other. River left for 9/10 of the trip is the Uintah Indian reservation, and river right is the BLM wilderness. It is very Western if you catch my drift. Big Horn sheep, wild horses, lizards, and 5000 foot sandstone walls.

There is a section of Desolation Canyon that rises up over 5300 feet. This is higher than the Grand Canyon. The scale is overwhelming. You really get a sense that you are in a very deep hole in a very remote area. We saw two airplanes, and only river people for 6 days. I write this kind of apprenhensively, since this is the first real multi-day I took my family on, and I have been waiting my whole life to take my family on a multi-day river trip. The rapids are relatively mild (class 2-3) as the story goes with the catch that this year there is a new rapid created by a flash flood last year. People that have been floating it this year rate it a 4 at high water. We were on the tail end of really high water. Our flows were around 12,000 cfs. Want to hear a river story? The new rapid is named Joe Hutch. It was Joe Hutch before the flash flood, and is Joe Hutch after the flash flood. It is now big and meaty. The family walked it, as wells as all the other Moms and kids. I thought I would have a safe run out the meat of the ugly laterals. Guess what? I popped both oars out of the oar locks, and went sliding into the meat dancing in the cockpit. The first wave bounced me hard, and my dory (I like calling our Hog a dory instead of a drift boat in these instances) got sideways in the trough before the second wave. Time stands still in these moments. I paused while the boat started to roll up the second wave sideways. The wave was over 8 feet on the face, because the whole boat stalled as it moved up and over. When it was nearing the crest, I leaped on the right gunwale, and hung in space looking back over my shoulder as we crested, and came down the other side. My buddy Woody was watching from shore after having a clean run, and thought I would flip over the gunwale and into river as she came down the backside. I soon bounced against a big rock, and into an eddy, where a good friend Arnie brought me his spare, and with my spare I row to the other shore and the rest of our group. Take a deep breath, and think of the irony of the scene. Everyone on shore is looking at me with wide eyed disbelief. My wife and boys are rattling off questions like they have a tommy gun for a jaw. Our Hog Island dory had been the center of the drama at the new big rapid. I am incredibly lucky that she didn't flip, and still get a jolt of energy remembering the epic high side. Eug and the Doctor quickly found my wayward oars, and down river we went. We ran into river groups that afternoon, and the next day that had flipped rafts there the day before. The next morning we had two good rapids. One of them, "Wire Fence", was known as the big one before the flash flood recreated "Joe Hutch". I pushed our dory loaded with my family into standing waves breaking over the bow to the thrilling shrieks of my wife and boys. They turned around afterwards genuinely excited saying they like rapids! As you can imagine the jury was out the for about 12 hours while we slept on the whole "Daddy River Experience" after Joe Hutch. Our dory really bucks in the haystacks. The bow pitches up, and comes crashing down to great effect. Luckily us humans are hard wired to enjoy roller coaster like motion, and that is what our dory mimics in big standing waves.

One of the coolest things about our trip were the petroglyphs. I have seen a good number of these in my time, but never in long billboard like panels. Check out the sunflower shape and the happy people with outstetched arms. Truly humbling and inspiring.

After our trip I took our boat to Flagstaff to Brady Black and Moenkopi River Works. He got her from us for Diamond down trips on the Lower Colorado, and Grand trips once he works out a deck. Brady's brain flies, so the options now are numerous. I can't wait to see what he comes up with.

While in Falgstaff I had the chance to visit one our customers named Matt Massey I refer him to as John Wesley. He is the first to run one of our dories down the Grand. He went this Spring after having spent the winter decking her out. Here's his boat after his trip in his shop in Flag. He had an epic trip with drama. He knocked a hole in her in Hance Rapid, and was able to melt platic back into our hull down in the Grand Canyon using a blow torch. That makes me very, very happy deep inside. Off he went with a freshly patched Hog into Crystal and Lava. All's well that ends well!

Fall Floats Volume II

This is a natural shot you don't see very often in the magazines. Starkey is bending over the gunwale all set for the standard grip and grin shot, and Mr. Wiggly jumps out his hands. Imagine a brightly colored Brown Trout. If the conversation is twisted with three All Pro trash talkers, then it goes to reason it is more warped with four. If the wind didn't come up we were online for an epic day of catching. The term "fly flinging" was spot-on for a good bit of our float. I'm talking about fly and fly line getting blown straight backwards. Chuck and duck.

Here's a picture of the boys getting their pirate on in the beaches before the canyon. Luke is holding a bazooka, and Fisher is holding a kayak paddle that turned into a spear. I had been telling the boys about the pair of Cottonwoods behind them for a week or so. They were the last trees to drop their leaves. Ray Charles can see they're in love. They remind me of the picture of the old truck and car on the cover of John Prine's "In Spite of Ourselves".

No doubt this isn't the biggest fish in the river, but it is one of my Fall favorites. He was cozied up in about two feet of water downstream of a big rock in the shade of a 200 ft. red wall a couple of hours below State Bridge. I drive past this wall all the time on my way South. I had went to the vise the night before, and tied up some ginger buggers with brown rubber legs for the occasion of an all day float with the good folks from Fly Fishing Outfitters in Avon. Ginger hit the water, and about the time I got the handle on my line he blew up like a flourescent light bulb being thrown in a dempstey dumpster.