Monthly Archives: April 2018

Parachute Green Drake – 04/12/2018

Parachute Green Drake 04/12/2018 Photo Album

I began tying this fly in 2012 after some frustrating visits to the Frying Pan River. You can check out my 09/11/2012 post for a materials table, and I continued to adhere to this recipe in recent years. Another informative read can be found in my 02/13/2015 post, and here I cover all the various styles, sizes and body colors that I incorporate into my western green drake ties. Beware, as your head may spin. My 01/10/2016 log entry includes an explanation of a critical improvement, that I adopted when producing my parachute green drakes. If you are entering the green drake tying business, make sure you review that technique improvement.

A Nice Size 14 Version

I declared 2017 the year of the green drake. During 2016 I made a concerted effort to seek out green drake hatches in Colorado, and although I did experience a few successful days, I was disappointed in my results. In 2018 I set no such goals, and I stumbled into more green drake hatches than ever before. I met them on the Cache la Poudre, the Arkansas River, South Boulder Creek and the Frying Pan River. Some of the most memorable days were 7/26/2017 on the Arkansas, 8/8/2017 on South Boulder Creek, and 8/31/2017 on the Frying Pan River. The trout in South Boulder Creek continued to recognize the large mayflies as late as 9/19/2017. On most of these days the parachute style dry fly was a significant contributor to my success.

Two Refurbished and Three New

The links in the initial paragraph connect you with my excessive analysis regarding size, style and body color for imitating these large fish attracting mayflies, but I concluded during my 2017 wanderings, that size 14 was preferred over size 12 across most streams and during a large proportion of the season. When I counted my supply of ribbed parachutes, I discovered that I possessed six size 12’s and five size 14’s. Given my preference for size 14’s, I sat down at my tying station and cranked out an additional five to raise my total to ten. Hopefully this will satisfy my requirements during the upcoming 2018 green drake season.

 

North Fork of St. Vrain Creek – 04/11/2018

Time: 12:30PM – 2:00PM

Location: Below Buttonrock Dam

North Fork of St. Vrain Creek 04/11/2018 Photo Album

Wind. This four letter word sums up my fishing experience on Wednesday, April 11, 2018. I knew from reviewing the weather forecasts, that wind speeds up to 28 MPH were expected to invade Colorado on Wednesday and Thursday. I vacillated between cancelling my fishing plans and forging ahead, but in the end I settled on making a trip. I hedged my commitment by driving 1.25 hour to the North Fork of St. Vrain Creek northwest of Lyons. If the conditions were not tolerable, I could at least minimize my drive time.

I arrived at the parking lot below the entrance to the dirt lane that provides access to the North Fork tailwater by 11:45AM. I could see the tree limbs waving and the frequent dust clouds caused by the blasts of warm air, so I decided to eat my lunch in the protected comfort of the car before enduring the gale that was sure to greet me. Finally after finishing my yogurt cup, I brace myself and opened the door. Sure enough a steady stream of forceful air greeted me, but I pressed on under the largely hopeful belief, that I could cast my flies during the intermittent gaps. The wind could not gust constantly, could it?

I rigged my Sage four weight since it is a stiff fast action rod, and I needed the rigid backbone to counteract the wind. The air temperature was surprisingly comfortable, as the dashboard displayed sixty-six degrees. I wore my gray fleece over my fishing shirt, but I discovered that I could have easily fished without the extra layer. I hiked up the road for fifteen minutes, and I was forced to turn my back to the gusts on a regular basis.

Starting Pool Yielded a Small Fish

When I approached the inlet to Longmont Reservoir, I walked for another one hundred yards, and then I cut over to the stream. The water was on the low side at 25 CFS and very clear, and this dictated long casts and cautious approaches. Long casts into a ferocious headwind was a difficult challenge to say the least. I knotted a yellow fat Albert to my line along with a beadhead hares ear and salvation nymph, and I launch a long cast to the tail of a small marginal run. Miraculously a small brown trout nipped the trailing salvation, but I was caught off guard by this instant action and set the hook a fraction of a second too late.

Lovely Run and Pool

The next pool was larger and deeper, and two small brown trout latched on to the salvation, and I was in a state of shock. Of course the brown trout were barely seven inches, but the rapid fire response to my nymphs was quite encouraging. I proceeded with heightened optimism and moved upstream to a point just above an old concrete dam or diversion structure, and I added two additional browns to the fish counter. The last fish that found a home in my net stretched to nine inches, and I paused to snap a photo of the wind aided trophy.

Home of Best of the Day

Best of the Day

The section between the concrete structure and the ninety degree bend consisted of huge boulders and a sequence of deep plunge pools. Perhaps it was the topography or maybe just timing, but the wind blasts peaked during my final thirty minutes. I spent more time holding my hat with my back to the creek, than I spent casting the flies. Had the fish rewarded me for my patience and persistence, I could have continued, but that was not the case, so I reeled up my flies and hooked them in the rod guide at 2:00PM.

I spotted several trout in one of the deep pools, but they were not paying attention to my offerings, although they seemed to shift from time to time, as if they were grabbing food from the drift. I thought I recognized two blue winged olives above the water surface, so I swapped the salvation for a sparkle wing RS2, and I dropped five casts into the relatively small eddy above the sighted fish. Perhaps the fish in front of me were nabbing active baetis nymphs? It was a great theory, but the change in flies did not end my fish catching slump.

I cut my losses and returned to the car with a fish tally of four. My sanity remained in place, and I enjoyed the silence and stillness inside my car on the return drive to Stapleton. In hindsight landing four trout in 1.5 hours of atmospheric turbulence was actually a notable achievement. Spring fishing can be quite variable, and Wednesday was a good example of the seasonal risk.

Fish Landed: 4

South Platte River – 04/10/2018

Time: 11:00AM – 4:00PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/10/2018 Photo Album

In fly fishing rarely does history repeat itself, and that was certainly true on Tuesday April 10. After an outstanding day on the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon on Thursday, April 5, I decided to make another trip to the quality tailwater below Eleven Mile Reservoir. The high temperature in Denver was forecast to reach the low seventies, and that translated to the low sixties in the canyon near Lake George. Unlike the Wednesday and Thursday weather prediction, the wind was projected to be moderate on Tuesday, so I leaped at the opportunity to take advantage of the favorable conditions.

I arrived at the pullout in the upper catch and release section by 10:15AM, and after I assembled my Sage One five weight and pulled on my fleece and light down, I was prepared for a day of fishing. The temperature at the start of my quest for South Platte River trout was in the mid-forties, but once the sun arced above the canyon walls, it warmed up nicely. My favorite pool below the second tunnel was occupied, so I hiked down the road for .4 mile. Another solo fisherman was just ahead of me, but he exited and descended the steep bank after .2 miles, and I continued toward the long shallow pool with a wide overlooking pullout, that I remembered from the drive into the canyon.

Lovely Starting Point on the South Platte River

Emerald Caddis Holds the Top Position on my Line

I found a manageable trail that included some rock scrambling and descended to the edge of the river. I began at the top of the long pool, and I rigged my line with a strike indicator, split shot, emerald caddis pupa and RS2. For the remainder of the morning I progressed upstream at a modest pace and probed all the runs and riffles that promised hungry trout, and my efforts produced four trout ranging in size from twelve to fourteen inches. Two of the net occupants were rainbows and two were brown trout. Two fish snatched the emerald caddis pupa, one grabbed a sparkle wing RS2, and another nabbed a beadhead hares ear nymph. I broke off the RS2 and replaced it with a sparkle wing, and I swapped the caddis pupa for a hares ear after another snag and lost flies.

Strong Start

At noon I arrived at a very nice pool with a promising deep run that split the pool, before it fanned out into a long deep slow moving tail section. I could see another angler in a longer quality pool above me, so I shed my front pack and backpack and satisfied my hunger with a nice lunch. After lunch I began to probe all the sections of the neighboring pool with the hares ear nymph and sparkle wing RS2, but the underwater residents were oblivious to my offerings.

This Became My Go To Pool on the Day

A Brown Trout Checks Out My Net

The upstream angler blocked my path, so I ascended a path to the dirt road, and I hiked downstream to the long pool for a second time. Another car was parked in the wide parking area, so I restricted my search for trout to the upper section, although I never saw the owner of the blue pickup truck that was parked next to the road. I completed ten or more drifts through the narrow deep entering channel, and then I began to observe some very sporadic rises and the occasional blue winged olive. The sky remained relatively devoid of clouds, and I suspect this explained the sparse nature of the baetis hatch.

Although the surface activity was sporadic, I was bored with the indicator nymphing approach, so I removed the indicator and split shot and replaced the two flies with a size 22 CDC blue winged olive. I placed casts over the three or four spots, where fish revealed their positions through rises, and my fly was mainly ignored, although one interested diner elevated and created a bulge but turned away at the last minute.

I surrendered to the picky eaters in the deep pool next to me, and I pondered whether perhaps the hatch was more advanced in the quality pool where I ate lunch. I scrambled up the steep bank and retraced my steps along the edge of the road, until I was adjacent to the target pool. I found a relatively gentle path and arrived at my lunch spot near the midsection. I paused to observe the activity, and once again a few trout flashed to the surface to snatch emerging insects. I was fairly certain that blue winged olives were the preferred menu item, as quite a few small gray winged mayflies fluttered and tumbled above the river.

I attempted to make some downstream casts to the more aggressive feeders on the opposite side of the center current, but I was unsuccessful, so I moved to the shallow tail area and crossed to the west bank. I was hopeful that I could get better lighting and a better angle for executing downstream drifts. I began targeting  three or four trout that fed irregularly, and eventually one of the more aggressive brown trout chomped on the tiny fake bug. I was pleased to land number five and my first victim of a BWO dry fly.

Pivoted for Better Light

After I released the hard earned brown trout, I continued probing the pool, but visible fish were refusing or totally ignoring the CDC BWO. I recalled my success on April 5 with the Klinkhammer blue winged olive, so I converted to the new ace in the hole. On this day and in this pool, however, the Klink BWO was not popular. I finally gave up on the lunch location and circled around the long pool and fisherman above me and resumed fishing a good distance beyond. I slowly walked along the edge of the river and scanned the water for surface feeding activity. It was not long, before I arrived at a nice long riffle of moderate depth, and after some careful observation, I detected some subtle dimples in the swirling current.

I noted at least three feeders, and after quite a few futile casts, I floated the emerger down a slot toward the tail, and a nice thirteen inch brown trout mistook my offering for a natural olive. A brief tussle followed, but I eventually guided the wild brown into my net. I remained in the area for another twenty minutes and floated the Klinkhammer over two additional snacking trout, but I was unable to interest them in my fly.

Creating a Sag

Once again I opted to move on, and my next stop was the tunnel pool. The angler who occupied it, when I first arrived in the morning was just now departing and climbed the bank, so I quickly staked my claim to my favorite location in Eleven Mile Canyon. Alas, I was too late. A pair of fish dimpled in the slow moving tail section, but I was unable to deceive them. A blind cast in the center section elicited one refusal, but again I was unable to seal the deal. I paused and observed for three minutes, and the river surface was devoid of surface feeding. It was 3:30, the sky was clear and blue, and the hatch was essentially over; so I decided to devote the last thirty minutes to the dry/dropper method.

End of Day Pool

I knotted a yellow fat Albert to my line and suspended a beadhead hares ear and Craven soft hackle emerger below it. I began prospecting the west branch above the tunnel pool and covered some marginal shallow runs, until I reached the upstream tip of the island. I was now below another nice long pool with a huge vertical rock wall on the east side of the river. The current flowed fairly slowly over a boulder strewn bottom, and several fish revealed there presence with an occasional sipping rise. I decided to make one last ditch effort to fool these trout with a dry fly.

I removed the three fly system and attached a size 22 CDC BWO to my line and began fluttering the tiny mayfly imitation above the scene of rises. As I stared into the water, I could identify four or five trout lined up in feeding positions, and several elevated and refused my fly. What now? I stripped in my size 22 CDC BWO and replaced it with the Klinkhammer style, but the curved hook emerger simply served up additional frustration in the form of refusals.

Very Nice Brown Trout Ate a Size 24 CDC BWO Dry Fly

I was about to quit, since it was getting late, but I decided to undertake one last ditch effort. I opened my MFC fly box and plucked a size 24 CDC olive from its slot and knotted it to my 5X tippet. I targeted a trout that was more than halfway across the river, and I shot a cast across and up from my position. Much to my amazement this fish elevated and slid under the fly and drifted downstream for a foot, and then it sucked in the tiny morsel. I lifted and connected, and after a brief battle I photographed and released fish number seven and my third catch on a dry fly.

Whew! What a difference from April 5. The hatch only lasted for an hour at most; whereas, it lingered for four hours the previous week. Cloud cover is definitely a huge factor, when it comes to blue winged olive hatches, and on Tuesday it was mostly lacking. On a positive note I managed to land four feisty wild river inhabitants on nymphs, and I developed a feel for the type of water structure, where this approach excelled. Over the course of a season not every outing can be euphoria inducing, and Tuesday was fun but never easy.

Fish Landed: 7

 

Arkansas River – 04/06/2018

Time: 10:00AM – 4:00PM

Location: Fremont – Chafee Line

Arkansas River 04/06/2018 Photo Album

After a spectacular day on Thursday on the South Platte River, I was very skeptical that Friday could even approach that level of success. Last fall I reviewed historical posts in this blog and determined that my last reasonably successful day on the Arkansas River was three years ago. As I drove from Lake George to Salida on Thursday evening, I reveled in the euphoria from Thursday and contemplated a return trip to the South Platte on Friday.

I checked into the Woodland Motel a bit after six o’clock on Thursday evening, and within a few minutes I walked along the main street, until I reached the Boathouse Cantina. This small purveyor of Mexican fare along the Arkansas River has developed into my favorite dinner haunt each time I spend a night in Salida on one of my fishing excursions. Al Pastor tacos satisfied my appetite, before I returned to the hotel, where I updated my fishing notes to include Thursday’s results.

I concocted the idea of the overnight stay in Salida as a means to eliminate one round trip, since I wanted to visit both the South Platte River and Arkansas River. The weather forecast for Salida projected highs in the upper fifties, and this was much more favorable than the high of forty with afternoon snow that confronted the Rockies season opener in Denver. Jane approved the motel stay, and I woke up Friday morning literally across the street from the Arkansas River, where it flows through town.

I packed a small breakfast consisting of a Greek yogurt cup, a leftover hard boiled Easter egg, and a Nature Valley granola bar; and I quickly consumed the three items in my room before checking out. I missed my morning cup of tea, so I decided to pay Howl Mercantile and Coffee a visit before embarking on my river adventure. It was 8:30 and the air temperature remained on the chilly side, so I took advantage of the free WiFi and sipped my black orange pekoe mug of tea.

By 9:15AM I was on my way to my customary stretch of the Arkansas River below Salida. I was pleased to observe that very few cars were parked in the usual pullouts along the river, and in fact I encountered only one other group of fishermen during my day of fishing. I pulled on my waders and assembled my Sage One five weight, and then I paused to consider my layer options. The thermometer ascended to fifty degrees but strong gusts of wind assaulted my body on a fairly regular basis. I decided to wear my gray fleece cardigan, and I covered it with my raincoat as a windbreaker. I considered my light down coat but opted to forego it based on the assumption, that the temperature would rise throughout the day. On my head I wore my New Zealand billed hat with ear flaps. I also packed my lunch in my backpack in order to avoid a return hike to the car.

The flows at Salida were seasonally low and just below 200 CFS, so this made crossing the wide river at the tail of the pool below my parking space a relatively easy chore. I climbed the north bank and hiked down the railroad tracks to my usual starting point, and here I configured my line with a strike indicator, split shot, an emerald caddis pupa, and a beadhead hares ear nymph. The water in front of me consisted of a nice wide shelf pool that extended thirty feet into the river, where it met a fast center current. I began drifting the nymphs through the shelf pool and extended my casts across the river, until the indicator bobbed along the current seam. On the sixth drift the indicator dipped just as the nymphs began to swing, and I made a quick hook set and felt the jolt of a substantial live fish.

Great Start

The energized underwater missile streaked downstream and ripped out line until it paused, and I cautiously applied side pressure and regained line. A few more shorter dashes disturbed the pool, but eventually the pink striped combatant grew weary and acquiesced to my invitation to rest in the net. What a start to my day on the Arkansas River! A sixteen inch rainbow displayed the hares ear nymph in its lip, and it created a substantial sag. I removed the hook and snapped a few photos and then allowed the glistening creature to return to its aquatic home.

On Display

I checked my flies for debris and once again lobbed some casts to the top of the run, and on the third pass, as I lifted the flies to recast, I felt a tug, and once again I was attached to a hard charging fish. This time the resistance consisted of some sporadic dives, head shakes and rolls; and sure enough a fourteen inch brown trout glided over the rim of my net and took the place of the earlier rainbow. Thirty minutes into my day, and I already netted two spectacular trout from the Arkansas River. Perhaps my apprehension was misplaced.

Rainbow and Brown Came From This Run

I was feeling rather optimistic about my prospects on Friday; however, similar beginnings in the recent past lapsed into disappointment. I moved upstream to the next deep run and current seam brimming with newfound confidence, but my optimism was misplaced in the quality water just below a long slender island. Normally I devote considerable attention to the small right braid on the north side of the island, but the indicator and split shot were not the appropriate rig for the clear channel at the early spring low flows that were present. I skipped around the secondary branch of the river and moved beyond the top of the island in search of some deeper channels among the wide shallow riffle section.

A father and two sons were positioned across from me thirty yards above the tip of the island, and the two boys were casting with their spinning rods toward the middle of the river. The oldest boy was across from me at my starting point at ten o’clock, and he witnessed my efforts to land the initial rainbow trout. He recognized me and waved hello, and I returned the greeting. In a small relatively marginal pocket above the island  and below the family, I hooked and landed a twelve inch brown trout, and then I moved thirty yards upstream to a spot, where the main current rushed through the center of the river and created some nice deep troughs along the north side. Perhaps the young man could bring me luck similar to the earlier encounter.

Handful

I began lobbing casts upstream so that the indicator drifted tight to the seam, and on the fifth pass the indicator paused, and I lifted the five weight and felt significant weight. The victim of the hook impalement immediately shot downstream with the current, and just as I prepared to follow, it made a sudden stop and circled below me in the slack water. It made some dives and doggedly thwarted my attempts to gain control, but eventually I lifted its head from the water and steered the fifteen inch brown trout into my net. Once again the hares ear nymph was the food of choice, and I silently celebrated a great start to April 6. The younger of the two boys glanced upstream and observed my bent rod, and I secretly hoped they would migrate upstream with me to bring additional good fortune my way.

I achieved a four fish day, and it was noon, so I found a nice grassy spot on the north bank facing the sun and paused to devour my lunch. The rays of the sun continued to warm the air, but gray clouds were visible in the western sky, and the frequency and velocity of the wind notched up to another level. I pondered the afternoon, and concluded that the conditions were building toward a blue winged olive hatch. In case the BWO nymphs became active and attracted the attention of the river dwellers, I reconfigured my nymph alignment and placed the hares ear in the upper position and replaced the caddis pupa with a sparkle wing RS2. I tied the sparkle wings this winter with times such as this clearly in mind, so I leaped at this opportunity to take advantage of my tying efforts.

Slick Behind the Large Rock Typical of Productive Water

I methodically worked my way up the river and searched out all the slots, runs, and troughs with above average depth and reduced current velocity, and I probed each such area with the nymph combination. Along the way I experienced two momentary connections, but these fish managed to shed the hook after three second downstream dashes. I suspected that they grabbed the small size 20 sparkle wing, since small hooks provide reduced hook holding capability.

Rainbow Home

After thirty minutes of utilizing the approach described above, I encountered a nice section along the right bank, where the river tumbled between several large exposed rocks. The current break created some nice plunge holes just below the boulders, and below that some deep slack water troughs existed between spots where the various faster currents merged. This location proved to be a trout haven, and I landed two thirteen inch brown trout along with a magnificent fifteen inch rainbow from the area. The two browns snatched the sparkle wing RS2 on the lift and swing, while the rainbow latched on to the hares ear in the frothy plunge pool at the top of the run.

The fishing effort was significant on Friday due to constant wading in the current and casting the heavy nymph rig into the relentless wind, but the endeavor was producing solid results. The fish count was climbing, but the more satisfying outcome was the size of the trout, as all except one measured in the thirteen to sixteen inch range. I was thankful for my success at this point, and I remained optimistic that some blue winged olive hatching activity might lie ahead.

Hard to Wrap My Hand Around

Deep Run Along the Bank Worth Prospecting

The next section of the river was the long slow moving pool below where the Santa Fe was parked. I climbed up on the north bank and slowly strode along, while I carefully scrutinized the pool next to me. If olives were hatching, they would be most obvious in this type of water. Unfortunately I did not spy any small mayflies, so I accelerated my pace a bit, and marched to the head of the long pool, where faster water bounced over a rocky bottom to create a wide relatively deep riffle. I waded on to a shallow sand bar fifteen feet from the bank and began to fan casts of increasing length across the riffle, and as I executed this approach, I searched for seams where the current slowed somewhat. Once I completed a set of searching casts, I carefully took three or four steps upstream and replicated the up and across casts and swings. After three cycles of this process, I lobbed the nymphs into a barely perceptible trough, and I was surprised to see the indicator dive. I swept the rod to the left and jolted a lightning bolt into action. The muscular attachment on the other end of my line reacted with several hot runs, and I prayed that the combatant chose the larger hares ear fly.

After three minutes of activity including multiple streaks and my frantic attempts to maintain tension by rapidly reeling or stripping line, the fifteen inch rainbow slid into my net. Whew! the miniscule sparkle wing RS2 was embedded in the thin membrane next to the lip, and I felt very fortunate to hang on long enough to land and photograph this beauty.

As I inspected my flies before resuming the quest for more trout, I noticed several baetis adults, as they rode the current and tumbled along at the mercy of the sudden blasts of air. The long anticipated hatch was beginning, but I was not observing any surface feeding. I concluded that the wind was sweeping the adults into the air before hungry fish could react. Should I continue with the deep nymphing approach, or should I reverse tactics and switch to a small dry fly? I envisioned the trout feeding in the small more protected north braid near my morning starting point, and I considered hiking downstream on the railroad tracks to check out the situation.

On the other hand I just landed a splendid rainbow on the sparkle wing RS2, and I was convinced that the two previous temporary hook ups responded to the BWO nymph as well. It was 2:00PM, and I decided to persist upstream. I continued working the nymphs in the likely locations, but the effort was not rewarded. From time to time I spotted wind blown adults, but it seemed that more visible mayflies translated to reduced interest in my nymphs. At 2:30 I decided to initiate plan B; that is, I climbed the bank to the railroad tracks and hiked downstream to the small channel on the north side of the island, that I skipped in the morning.

My heart pounded as I waded to the bottom tip of the island and reached a position, where I could scan the lower pool. Were my eyes deceiving me? A ring materialized along the bubble line, where the long current flowed through the center of the channel. As I continued to scan the surface, another rise form appeared and then another and another. I shifted my gaze to the slow slack water above me on the left side, and several concentric rings slowly spread out from a center point. My hands trembled, as I quickly snipped off the nymphs, pried apart the split shot crimp, and removed the strike indicator. Should I try a CDC BWO or one of the Klinkhammer style emergers that duped sixteen trout on the South Platte River? For some reason I chose a size 22 CDC olive, and I impatiently manipulated my cold fingers to attach the tiny BWO imitation.

Adios

By now I could see a steady series of sailboat-like gray winged mayflies on the surface, and I paused to once again observe the pool. I decided to target the three or four fish feeding along the bubble line first, but the intermittent wind made executing a nice slack cast nearly impossible. After five unsuccessful attempts I averted my attention to the slow moving side pool above me. Reaching the site of the earlier rise required a long cast, but during a lull in the wind I made the attempt. The first try fell short, but the next one shot five feet farther upstream, and after a one foot drift a bulge appeared under the fly. It is hard to describe the feeling of elation that ensues upon completing all the correct steps to fool a large trout on a tiny dry fly, but that was what I felt at that moment. I tightened the line and struck firmly, and a torpedo immediately dashed upstream and then reversed to a point halfway between me and the scene of the original disruption of the trout’s feeding rhythm. I applied pressure and eventually coaxed a fifteen inch brown trout into my net. I was in fly fishing euphoria.

Shoulder View

But I was not done. The mayflies continued to emerge, and the fish continued to sip in apparent gluttony. Ten minutes elapsed with no additional action, as I once again attempted to battle the wind in order to execute a decent presentation to the bubble line feeders. Again I glanced to the left and noted a slow water sipper. Could I repeat my earlier success? I shot a cast upstream and fluttered the CDC tuft down, and history repeated itself. A mirror image brown trout inhaled the BWO fraud and displayed valiant escape tactics, but I was equal to the challenge and slid my net beneath another prize Arkansas River brown trout.

I snapped several obligatory photos and dried the size 22 olive and once again surveyed the scene. Despite two tussles with cantankerous brown trout, the current seam feeders continued their ravenous feeding. Surely I could fool one of these chomping maniacs. The closest fish to me in the current seemed to be quite nice, and it also appeared to be the most aggressive, as it lurched to the surface in rapid fire fashion to grab floating morsels. I made four casts and allowed the fly to skip down the center of the run with no response, but on the fifth attempt the target fish sipped in my offering. It almost seemed like that fish instantly recognized the error of its ways, but my swift reaction did not allow it to undo its mistake.

The fish leaped and streaked up and down the pool, and I quickly realized that it was a high spirited rainbow. I held tight, maintained tension and rode out the strong attempts to escape, until I dipped the net beneath a gorgeous shimmering rainbow. What a thrill! Two fifteen inch brown trout and now a similar size rainbow in a shallow clear pool on a tiny dry fly certainly elevated my day from nice to exceptional. I recorded a brief video and released the prize, and then I resumed my quest for more Arkansas River trout.

Collection Point

The battle with the rainbow put down all the other bubble line feeders, so I turned my attention to the very top of the pool. A sporadic riser caught my attention, but after ten casts I was unable to create a reaction. I could not follow the tiny olive in the faster swirling current, so I decided to experiment with another tactic. I tied a peacock hippy stomper to my line and then extended eighteen inches of tippet from the bend and attached the sparkle wing RS2. I drifted this combination over the earlier riser at least ten times, but once again the fish paid no attention, and in fact it stopped feeding. I moved on to two more quality pockets, but the dry/dropper technique was not effective, and I now pondered my next step.

Stuck in Foam

It was 3:30 and the clouds thickened while the temperature dropped ten degrees. My raincoat shell was a windbreaker but provided minimal insulation from the biting wind, so I decided to amble upstream to my crossing point and then check out the long pool from the south bank. If olives continued to emerge, they would surely be visible in the pool from the high rock overlook. When I reached the rock ledge below my car, I paused and observed, and sure enough a few sporadic risers appeared toward the middle of the river. I concluded that I could not effectively present my flies to these feeders, so I turned my attention upriver closer to my bank. After a minute or two several subtle bulges revealed themselves, so I climbed down to the rocks across from the observed rises. The water was faster here, so I exchanged the CDC BWO for the Klinkhammer version, and then I scattered some casts over the rise locations. Alas my fly was lost in the waves, and I never spotted another surface take to react to, and my fingers began to curl into stiff numb hooks.

I called it quits and climbed back to the car, where I shed my waders and stowed my rod and reel as rapidly as possible. The sky was darkening, the wind was blasting and the temperature was plunging; and all I could think about was the warmth of the seat heater.

Once I warmed up on my drive back to Denver, I remained in a state of fly fishing euphoria. Eleven fish is not a high fish count, but the quality of the landed trout was outstanding. Eight very strong trout grabbed my nymphs between ten o’clock and three o’clock, before the pinnacle of fly fishing unfolded. I fooled three wary surface feeding Arkansas bruisers in a shallow slow moving clear pool. What a conclusion to a fabulous day! The Arkansas River is back on my list of favorite destinations in Colorado.

Fish Landed: 11

 

 

South Platte River – 04/05/2018

Tiime: 11:00AM – 4:30PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon near Tunnel 2

South Platte River 04/05/2018 Photo Album

Some days are just special. With moderately nice weather in the forecast for Thursday and Friday, April 5 – 6, I embarked on a short overnight fishing trip. Friday’s weather in Denver for the Rockies’ opener was projected to be rather adverse, but for some reason Salida dodged the cold front with a high in the upper fifties in the forecast. I decided to take advantage of this apparent Colorado weather conundrum, and I booked a room at the Woodland Motel for Thursday night, thus avoiding two redundant long drives.

My first stop was the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon, and I pulled into the parking space just before Tunnel Number 2 at 10:30AM. The air temperature hovered at 45 degrees, so I wore my gray fleece and light down coat as well as my brimmed hat with earflaps. I was never too warm throughout the entire stay on the river.

Pool Where I Began on Thursday, April 5

I rigged my Sage One five weight with a yellow fat Albert, beadhead hares ear, and sparkle wing RS2; and then I hiked downstream for 200 yards. Here I discovered a relatively gradual path down the steep bank, and I began casting to some quality runs and riffles among the boulder strewn river. The flows were seasonally low at 70 CFS, and this condition dictated long casts and stealthy approaches.

After thirty minutes of fruitless casting I exchanged the RS2 for an orange scud. I theorized that the rainbow trout were in spawning mode and hoped that the orange fly could serve double duty as an egg imitation or a freshwater shrimp. It did neither, and eventually I decided to change my approach to a deep nymphing set up. I could see quite a few nice trout in some deep holes, and I surmised that my dry/dropper was causing the nymphs to tumble too high in the water column.

Initially I tried a pink squirrel as the top fly with a pink San Juan worm on the bottom, but again my choices did not tempt the underwater residents. I swapped the worm for the sparkle wing RS2, and I thought I observed some follows but again no takes. Lacking success I once again reconfigured. I desired a greater distance between the two nymphs, so I replaced the pink squirrel with an emerald caddis pupa, and then I retained the sparkle wing RS2 as the offering at the end of my line.

This Pool Entertained Me All Afternoon

I prospected with this combination for a short while, and then my watch told me that it was lunch time, so I skipped around a small segment and staked out a large flat boulder along the bank next to my favorite locale in the canyon. I quickly downed my lunch, while I observed eight fish in the tail of the pool. Several small trout hovered across from me and performed almost imperceptible sips in a sporadic manner. The quality water was located below the bottom tip of a small island, and the two braids merged at the midsection of the pool. A nice riffle of moderate depth carried the current from the western channel, and then the eastern channel joined to create a gorgeous deep smooth pool with a strong current running through the center.

As I grabbed a granola bar as my last lunch item, another angler appeared at the tip of the island. I suspect he asked permission to fish, as he spoke some words, but I could not comprehend over the rush of the stream, so I cupped one hand next to my ear to indicate a lack of understanding. He must have taken my gesture for approval, as he began to drift his nymphs in the run above the confluence. His casts seemed rather half-hearted, and once I pulled on my backpack and front pack and grabbed my rod, he vanished upstream from whence he came.

Right After Lunch

I waded into the shallow left channel and lobbed casts to the slack water near where the invading angler stood. Miraculously on the third cast my indicator paused, so I raised the rod to nudge the nymphs into the current, and a fish grabbed the caddis pupa. A nice battle ensued, before I slid my net beneath a fourteen inch rainbow trout. It was a pleasant surprise to say the least.

I photographed and released my prize and began drifting the nymphs through the left side of the nice riffle that ran across the entire west braid. This tactic failed to attract interest, so I moved upstream along the west branch to some marginal runs. At higher flows on previous visits this area was productive, but on this day they were shallow, and I shifted to the west side of the river. I drifted the nymphs through the wide riffle from the west bank with no appreciable increase in trout responsiveness.

The Scene of My Entertainment

I began edging downstream a bit with the intent of swinging the nymphs along the front edge of a large submerged rock that deflected the merging currents. The spot screamed trout holding water, and my intuition was validated, when I momentarily pricked one while executing the swing ploy. As this was transpiring, an angler reappeared. It was the same guy, and he did not bother to ask permission this time. He assumed a position near my lunch rock and began splashing his nymphs and indicator upstream.

Fortunately as this scene unfolded quite a few steady rises commenced in the tail area on both sides of the center current. The uninvited guest angler spotted this activity as well, and we both raced to remove our nymph paraphernalia and converted to dry flies. I knotted a size 22 CDC olive to my line and began feeding downstream drifts along my side of the current seam. On the fifth such pass a mouth engulfed my tiny tuft of CDC, and I played and landed a fine thirteen inch brown trout.

Decent

As I photographed and released the trout, fisherman number two arrived; however, he seemed more interested in photography, as he snapped several photos and kept his rod on the sidelines. It was not long before the friendly duo moved on and bequeathed the pool to the original owner.

The frequency of rises escalated, and I could now see blue winged olives, as they drifted along on the surface and tumbled in the breeze. Surely my size 22 CDC BWO would dupe these aggressive eaters, but alas that was not the case. I focused on several nice feeders across from me, and they clearly inspected and ignored my fly. I pondered my next move, and concluded that the natural olives were larger than a size 22. It is fairly common for the early broods to be the largest in the baetis emergence cycle. I replaced the 22 with the largest CDC blue winged olive in my fly box, and this move immediately fooled a twelve inch rainbow trout.

Silvery Rainbow Rests

Perhaps my observation solved the riddle, but now the assemblage of trout in the pool adopted a shunning state of mind for this fly as well. What should I do? Trout were rising over the length of the pool, and my CDC versions were not in favor. I remembered tying the Klinkhammer emerger styles, but when I searched my box, they were absent. I scanned my memory banks and recalled, that they were in the boat box in the Santa Fe.

Klinkhammer Style BWO Emerger Was the Hot Fly on Thursday

Growing Into the Tail

My flies were not effective, and no anglers were in sight, so I ascended the steep bank and transferred four Klinkhammer emergers to my MFC fly box. I returned to my position on the west bank and resumed the downstream drifts to the ample population of feeding trout. It worked! The Klinkhammer blue winged olive enabled me to land sixteen additional trout before I quit at 3:30. I continued to endure numerous false looks and refusals and a few momentary pricks, but as the count suggests, it performed quite well.

Perfect Rainbow Pose

My final tally on the day was nineteen beautiful trout, and all fell within the twelve to fifteen inch range. The mix was roughly 50/50 between rainbows and browns, but the rainbows were on average longer and heavier fish. The first fish fell for a cadds pupa, and all the others nabbed a dry fly. The hatch began at 12:30 and continued until 4:00PM, and fish continued to rise sporadically, as I hooked my fly in the guide and departed at 4:30.

The View from Behind

What a day! 2018 is developing into a very memorable year for this avid fly fisherman.

Fish Landed: 19

Stimulators – 04/03/2018

Stimulators 04/03/2018 Photo Album

My post of 03/01/2017 does a nice job of bringing the readers of this blog up to date with my views on stimulators. Over the last three years I settled on three body colors for the bulk of my stimulator searching efforts. Gray and green are nice general earthy colors, that seem to perform year round on western streams. Stimulators with yellow bodies excel during the phase of the season when golden stoneflies and yellow sallies are prevalent. This suggests to me that the yellow version is a solid imitation of the abundant dapping and egg laying stonefly varieties.

From the Side

Size 14 seems to be the best all purpose size for my prospecting needs. I suspect that it represents both caddis flies and stoneflies of intermediate size. In the case of yellow stoneflies I carry both size 14’s and 12’s, because golden stoneflies are larger than yellow sallies. This prepares me for scenarios, when one stonefly predominates.

Gray Stimulators

I counted all my stimulators and determined that my boxes contained adequate quantities of yellow in the desired sizes of 12 and 14. I deployed gray the most, and the inventory revealed, that I possessed nine, so I gathered the requisite materials and produced an additional six. Seven olive versions occupied my boxes, and I decided to tie three more to increment my total stock to ten. Prior to tying the stimulators I sifted through the damaged and unraveling flies in my various cylinders, and I collected quite a pile on my tying counter. These flies provided more than enough hooks to complete my stimulator construction efforts for 2018.

Misfit Flies to Be Converted into Stimulators

South Boulder Creek – 04/02/2018

Time: 12:00PM – 3:30PM

Location: Below Gross Reservoir

South Boulder Creek 04/02/2018 Photo Album

What does a forecast of high temperatures in the low seventies in Denver, a rescheduled doctor’s appointment, and nice steady flows of 20 cfs on South Boulder Creek yield? A fishing adventure for Dave of course. Originally I aspired to make a longer trip to the Eagle River or Arkansas River; however, projected high winds across Colorado discouraged me from those options. Weather prognosticators anticipated high wind velocities of 27 MPH at both locales. Pinecliffe just west of my desired destination on South Boulder Creek was marginally better, but I concluded that I was reducing my drive time investment in the event that the gusts were not tolerable.

Lunch View

I arrived at the kayak parking lot by 11AM, and after assembling my Sage four weight I completed my normal fishing preparation routine and hiked to the creek. Since it was approaching noon, when I arrived streamside, I paused and munched my snack and consequently began fishing at noon. I kicked off my day with a yellow fat Albert, a beadhead hares ear nymph, and a salvation nymph.

The air temperature was in the low fifties as I began to cast, and the wind was in fact a significant hurdle throughout much of the afternoon, although it seemed to relent a bit toward the end of my venture. The creek was extremely clear and flowed at 20 CFS. Past experience at these low levels or even less taught me to approach each target spot cautiously and with a low profile.

Number One

During the first twenty minutes even these measured precautions failed to yield a fish, although admittedly the quality of the water was lacking compared to that which I would encounter over the remainder of my day. I was beginning to consider a change in flies, when I approached a long smooth pool with a very deep trough near the far bank. I restrained myself from getting too close and lobbed a long cast to the top of the faster run that entered the deep section, and after a five foot drift the fat Albert suddenly plunged toward the depths. I raised my arm and connected instantly with a decent brown trout that seemed to materialize from the brown stream bottom. The fight was on, but I quickly gained the upper hand and guided the wild beauty into my net. What a start to my day! A thirteen inch brown rested in my net with a beadhead hares ear nymph firmly embedded in its lip, and I was quite pleased to extract such a noble fighter from the challenging clear pool.

Again

This episode symbolized the remainder of the afternoon, although the size of the remaining catches failed to measure up to number one. I continued my upstream migration at a steady pace and added eighteen trout to my count. All except two were brown trout, and the two exceptions were rainbows in the ten inch range, but they compensated for their lack of size with sheer beauty.

One of Two Rainbows Landed

After the first hour the fish count perched on four, and I endured a dry spell of fifteen minutes. During this time several small trout elevated and inspected the fat Albert, but they shunned the large offering and returned to their holding positions. I was having some success with the nymphs, but now the residents of South Boulder Creek seemed to be distracted by the large surface offering. I opted to downsize and removed the three fly dry/dropper lineup and replaced it with a peacock body hippy stomper. I fished the smaller foam attractor solo for a bit with no results, so I added a beadhead hares ear and beadhead sparkle wing RS2.

Careful Approach in Order

The shift in approach paid huge dividends, and these flies remained in place during the remainder of the afternoon. The trout overwhelmingly favored the hares ear, although two eager eaters chomped the hippy stomper. The sparkle wing RS2 failed to attract interest, and I removed it after a thirty minute trial period.

Decent South Boulder Creek Brown Trout

The wind was a constant nuisance, but it abated enough to make casting a reasonable endeavor. The warmth of the strong spring sun counterbalanced the wind, and I thoroughly enjoyed my continuous progression along South Boulder Creek. My initial foray into the South Boulder Creek canyon was a solid success, and I hope to return before the water managers initiate their inevitable fluctuation in flows.

Fish Landed: 19