Time: 9:00AM – 4:30PM

Location: Morning and early afternoon in Steamboat Springs and then 3:00 until 4:30 at Stagecoach tailwater

Yampa River 06/29/2016 Photo Album

After enjoying perhaps the best day of the year so far, how could Wednesday be anything but outstanding? Remember that change is constant in fly fishing.

I relaxed in pleasant slumber at the McKinley Loop at Stagecoach Reservoir State Park on Tuesday night, and I was anxious to get an early start on Wednesday. After a quick breakfast at campsite 86, I packed up my tent and all the camping gear, and I was on my way back to the Steamboat Springs section of the Yampa River. Thursday June 23 was a fun day, and Tuesday surpassed it with numerous large brown trout in the 13 – 18 inch range. I arrived at the ice rink parking lot and prepared to fish using my Scott six weight rod. After losing two brown trout in excess of twenty inches on Tuesday, I desired the advantage of a heavier rod to better control large fish.

I forgot that the Scott six weight was still rigged with a custom leader that Jake Chutz constructed for my day of streamer fishing on the Elk River, but I decided to keep it in place and try some deep nymph fishing in the morning before hatches commenced. I cut back the tippet until a very thick section of leader occupied the end segment, and then I knotted a slumpbuster to the line. Next I extended a foot of 4X and added an iron sally, since this fly was a hot producer during the previous day. Surely some stonefly nymphs were still available to the trout given their abundant emergence on Tuesday.

I began fishing thirty yards below the Fifth Street bridge and worked my way toward that landmark in the morning, but the fish were not paying attention to my offerings. I dead drifted, allowed the flies to swing, and stripped them back toward me at different rates of speed; but none of my efforts aroused attention from the resident fish. Flows were down slightly from Tuesday, so I covered more attractive slots and pockets away from the bank, but nothing seemed to interest the fish.

I passed under the Fifth Street bridge, and given the lack of success, I decided to revert to my Tuesday approach with a dry/dropper arrangement. Unfortunately the custom leader was built for slinging streamers and was not conducive to casting a dry/dropper rig, so I returned to the car at the ice rink parking lot, and spent some time converting the leader. I replaced the streamer construction with a standard tapered leader, and then I configured it with a Charlie boy hopper, beadhead hares ear, and salvation nymph. I returned to the river above the bridge and worked my way upstream fishing in the same style that produced numerous large fish for me the previous day. Alas change is constant in fly fishing, and what works one day, seldom works the next.

By the time I reached the island, I accumulated two small fish on the fish counter, and I exchanged the Charlie boy hopper for a fat Albert. In similar fashion, the hares ear was swapped for the star of Tuesday, the iron sally. None of these moves changed the interest of the fish. My last spot was the downstream point of the island, and here I began to see a decent number of pale morning duns, as they slowly floated upward from the surface of the river. I was not sure how long the hatch would last, but I hoped to explore the right braid along the island, so I walked back across the bridge and found the railroad tracks. The initial water along the right side of the island was wide and shallow and fast, so I skipped it, until I approached a very deep pool beneath the railroad bridge.

Above the bridge an appealing segment of water appeared, and I paused to look for rising fish, but none appeared, and only one or two mayflies hovered over the river. I glanced at my watch and noted that it was 12:20, and I desired to be on better water in case another decent pale morning dun hatch developed. I quickly reversed my direction and hiked back downstream past the ice rink, rodeo, and Howelsen Hill parking area until I reached the skate park, and here I cut across some weeds to the railroad tracks. I used the crushed rock bed as a thruway and strode quickly until I was just above the hot springs. I could smell the pungent aroma of sulfur in the warm air, as I carefully descended a steep bank to the edge of the river.

Best Fish on Wednesday in Steamboat Springs

On the second cast as I lifted the flies to recast, I felt weight and held tight as a thirteen inch rainbow trout thrashed on my line until I led it into my net. This fish proved to be my best on June 29 in the Yampa section within the town of Steamboat. I continued working my way upstream along the right bank and eventually covered some of the same water that entertained me on Tuesday morning. This portion of my fishing day yielded four trout and incremented the fish counter to six, but the hatch was brief and the size of the fish paled in comparison to the robust specimens that attacked my flies on Tuesday. Most of the fish landed in town attacked the salvation nymph, and I somehow managed to lose at least three salvations and three iron sallies. I was not pleased with this circumstance.

At 2:30 I approached a wide shallow area, and the hatch appeared to diminish, and the number of inflatable water craft exploded. I was not encouraged by my prospects given these conditions combined with the high hot sun, so I fought through the bushes and returned to the car. I decided to pay a visit to the Yampa tailwater below Stagecoach Reservoir. I utilized this ploy in 2015, and on several occasions I encountered pale morning dun hatches in the afternoon. Could I repeat a similar fortuitous turn of events?

The Stagecoach Tailwater on Wednesday Afternoon

I arrived at the parking lot already attired in my waders, so it did not take long for me to assemble my Sage four weight and quickly descended the path to the river. I began prospecting with the dry/dropper approach that consisted of the fat Albert, beadhead hares ear, and salvation nymph. In the first thirty minutes I failed to land three fish that momentarily nipped my flies as they drifted along the edge of some faster currents. Unfortunately these opportunities proved to be some of my best chances to optimize my time on the tailwater.

After accepting that I was thwarted by the Yampa trout, I moved to an attractive shelf pool, but this area generated only fruitless casting even though I could see some sizable fish lurking in the depths. Another fisherman occupied the next of a nice series of stair step pools, so I circled around on the opposite side and approached a long pool where the main current flowed tight to the opposite bank. I launched some casts from the tail, but I could see some large fish totally ignore my flies as they passed overhead. Clearly my flies lost their magic, so I decided to change things up. In previous years I encountered pale morning duns, so I switched to a size 16 cinnamon comparadun. I fluttered some long casts to the midsection of the pool, where I spotted a couple sporadic rises, and once again I managed to prick a fish with a momentary hook up.

Again the visible fish ignored my fly, but occasionally a fish would rise, so it was clear they were looking for some type of food on the surface. Some small caddis randomly fluttered about, so I exchanged the PMD for a light gray caddis. I flicked this fly to the general area where fish rose, and suddenly a fish gulped the caddis. I quickly netted a nine inch brook trout and congratulated myself on finally landing a fish in the tailwater.

Next I moved to the middle of the pool so I could observe the upper half. The main current curled near the middle and then eddied back to the head of the run, and four or five nice fish hovered in front of me facing downstream. I stood motionless for a bit and observed several fish as they moved side to side to snag minute morsels of food from the drift, and then suddenly a long rainbow drifted to the surface and sipped something from the film. Since the caddis remained on my line, I lofted a couple casts to the turning point in the current and watched as it slowly crept back toward the nook of the eddy. My heart stopped as a sizable trout finned to the surface and then calmly turned away.

What should I do now? In the past I resorted to a small fur ant in these encounters with picky trout, so I knotted a size 18 black parachute ant to my line and presented it to the educated fish in front of me. I wish I could report that my choice of last resort solved the riddle, but it did not. The fish did not even inspect it, so I pondered the situation some more. While analyzing the puzzle, another rainbow sipped a mystery substance from the surface. A few midges buzzed above the river, and the targeted food source was minute, so I opted to try a griffiths gnat. I carry these size 22 generic midge imitations at all times but rarely resort to such a tiny fly.

Nice Catch

Magically on the fifth drift from the turning point in the current to a place directly across from me, a rainbow lifted its nose and sipped my griffiths gnat. I landed bigger fish and harder fighting fish on Tuesday, but somehow this rainbow established itself as my most gratifying catch of the two days fishing on the Yampa River. I netted the crimson beauty, estimated its length at fourteen inches, photographed it as proof of my persistence, and then released it to frustrate future anglers.

Wednesday was a disappointment compared to my previous two visits to the Yampa River, but I enjoyed a nice early summer day in the Colorado outdoors, and I was thankful for that. New adventures await as the prime period of the 2016 fishing season approaches.

Fish Landed: 8

Time: 10:00AM – 4:00PM

Location: Downtown Steamboat Springs

Yampa River 06/28/2016 Photo Album

What can I say? If measured by pounds and not fish count, Tuesday June 28 may have been the most successful day of 2016. After my fishing visit to the Yampa River on June 23 was truncated by the reluctance of the National Forest Service to open my preferred campground, I restlessly waited for another shot at edge fishing while flows remained high enough to force the river’s residents to the banks. I checked the DWR web site daily, and the river’s flows were plummeting by 200 cfs per day, and I was fearful that the window of opportunity had closed.

As I departed early on Tuesday morning for the 3.5 hour drive to the Yampa Valley, I was aware that stream flows collapsed to the 600 cfs range. Upon my arrival in Steamboat Springs I parked next to the gazebo at the Howelsen Hill parking lot and assembled my Sage One five weight rod for a day of fishing. My expectations were low, but one can never predict what the fish and weather have in store for an optimistic fisherman.

600 CFS Was Still High

When I climbed the pedestrian bridge to scout the river it was evident that the flows were in 500 – 600 cfs range, and I was concerned that they may have dropped below my desired level for edge fishing. On a positive note I was able to wade along the edge more easily than June 23, and the flows remained high enough to create a decent buffer between the ever present tubers and me.

Always Holds Big Fish

I began fishing on the town side after crossing the pedestrian bridge and then went downstream until a polite distance above a fisherman, who was located just above the fast water near the confluence with a small creek. A fat Albert, bead head hares ear, and salvation nymph adorned my line, and these flies accounted for the first eight fish. In a sweet area below an overhanging tree limb, the fat Albert dipped, and I hooked and landed a fat 17 inch brown on the hares ear. What a start to my day!

First Fish Was This Beauty

Despite the early success represented by the seventeen inch brown trout, I discovered quickly that the bushes and trees were tight to the water making upstream wading very difficult. In addition the shade created by the stream side vegetation made visibility very challenging, so I crossed the bridge again and then walked down the railroad tracks until I was just above an area popular with kayaks and stand up paddle boarders. I carefully scrambled down some large rocks and tossed my flies into a deep shelf pool. As the flies passed below me and began to swing gently, I felt a sharp tug and set the hook. This reaction resulted in a fifteen inch colorful rainbow squirming in my net with a salvation nymph in its mouth. My first two fish were in excess of fifteen inches, and I was losing my concern about the river level being too low for hot edge fishing.

Thrilled to Hold This Creature

Tuesday developed into a hot day with temperatures reaching the upper eighties, but by 11:30 some pale morning duns appeared. I continued working my way up the river, and although I was tempted to switch to a dry fly, I never spotted rising fish. Consequently I maintained the dry/dropper set up and landed six additional fish to reach eight by 12:30. Many of the late morning catches were in the 14 – 16 inch range, and unlike my visit the previous week, brown trout predominated. I offer the explanation, that I was focused on edge fishing where the brown trout tend to lurk, and the rainbow trout spread out more as a result of the lower flows.

Another Fine Yampa River Rainbow

Ideal Edge Water

At 1PM the presence of an occasional yellow stonefly transitioned into a fairly dense hatch, and these adult insects approximated a size 12 fly. This observance prompted me to shift my offerings to a fat Albert trailing a solo iron Sally. I should have played the slot machines in Blackhawk, because I hit the jackpot with this move. The Yampa River trout loved the iron Sally, and I progressed through a period when I could count on a nice fish whenever I encountered slower water with depth along the bank. Fish numbers nine though fifteen attacked the iron Sally, and this tally included a gorgeous fifteen inch cutbow and three or four brown trout in the thirteen to fifteen inch range. All my reservations about the water level being less than ideal melted in the euphoria of landing many larger than average Yampa River trout!

Quite a Fish

Two failures accounted for more excitement than the successes that I just described. One twenty plus inch brown that I failed to land will remain in my nightmares for months. I cast upstream a couple feet from a three foot high bank, and as the fat Albert drifted eight feet from my position, a huge object elevated and slurped the large yellow foam attractor. At first I thought it was an animated log, but I set the hook and marveled at the huge moving bulk in front of me. Had this fish remained in place as I waded upstream, it would have tripped me.

At first the massive form was quite docile, as it lumbered back and forth and in a circle within ten feet of where I hooked it, but then it calmly swam down and across to the edge of some faster water. I maintained constant side pressure on the beast, but it was so large that I was forced to relent and feed out line. As the behemoth reached the current seam, it felt like the top fly released from the fish’s mouth, and one of the trailers embedded in the fish. This certainly angered my foe, and it reacted by wrapping the line around something. I stripped some line in an attempt to determine if the fish was still connected, but alas my monster catch was free. When I brought my flies close for inspection, I determined that the salvation nymph was gone. I am still shaking as I describe this exciting but frustrating incident.

More Brown Trout Madness

Another notable long distance release evolved as I fished across from a couple guys seated on a rock structure. In this instance the fat Albert dipped, and I set the hook instantly and found myself attached to another very large torpedo. The observers let out a hoot immediately, so they must have been watching my efforts. Unlike the previous lunker, this fellow did not mess around, and it charged immediately into some fast water downstream. I allowed the line to zing from my reel, but when the fish turned slightly in the heavy current, the flies released and shot back toward me. The opposite bank observers shouted, “what happened?”, and I could only grieve over another lost opportunity at a trophy. Unlike the previous fish, all my flies remained, and a break off was not the root cause of the release.

My last fish of the day, number sixteen if you are counting, was another highlight. I took a break and returned to the river thirty yards below the Fifth Street bridge. By now it was 3PM, and temperature was near its peak, which of course created an inner tube hatch. I found a nice riffle/run area off to the side of the main current, where the river swept most of the rafts and tubes toward the opposite bank in a rush. I now sported a Chernobyl ant as my top fly with an iron Sally trailing beneath it, but the flies were not producing. I glanced to the edge of the river before wading farther upstream, and I was startled to see a very large fish hovering next to the bank in water that was no more than two feet deep. The newly discovered target was only ten feet away, and I attempted a few drifts with the dry/dropper with no success. I was reluctant to toss the two flies too close to the bank, as I feared hooking the dropper in the bushes would destroy any chance I had to interest the big boy in my flies.

Almost Stepped on This One

The long trout next to the bank was quite dark in color, and I suspected that it was a rainbow. As I pondered my next step, I was amazed to see the elongated form slowly float to the surface, and then it sipped a straggling pale morning dun! My dry/dropper combination was not producing, and I therefore had nothing to lose, so I switched to a  single size 16 cinnamon comparadun. Two drifts failed to attract interest, but I dropped the next cast four feet upstream and within inches of the bank. I held my breath as the small fly bobbed along the bank and then right over my quarry. I was about to salute my foe, when it slid sideways with the current and then calmly moved two feet and sipped my fly!

I felt like I was watching a slow motion replay of a fishing movie! I calmly set the hook, and after a spirited battle, I slid my net beneath another 17 inch brown trout! I was stunned to discover that it was not a rainbow. This fish was full of surprises. After releasing the prize brown trout, I realized that it was quite hot, and the tube traffic intensified. I was extremely tired from fighting the strong current and ducking in and out of thick bushes, so I quit at 4 o’clock.

Since I suffered through a fifteen minute delay due to road construction at the entrance to the Meadows Campground on Rabbit Ears Pass during my morning drive, I decided to return to Stagecoach State Park. Only two sites were occupied on the McKinley Loop, so I quickly grabbed site number 86.

I can usually remember all my big fish within twenty-four hours of a day on the river, but they were in such abundance on Tuesday, that I lost track. It was another phenomenal day of fishing on the Yampa River, and I was fortunate to enjoy it before the run off window closed. Could Wednesday be another day of intense action in Steamboat Springs? Stay tuned.

Fish Landed: 16

Time: 10:15AM – 3:30PM

Location: Within the town of Steamboat Springs

Yampa River 06/23/2016 Photo Album

My euphoria subsided on Saturday morning, as I prepared to chronicle my fishing outing on Thursday June 23 on the Yampa River. The improbable genesis of this spectacular day of fishing was our road trip to Arizona in March. On our return from Phoenix and spring training baseball, we detoured to Cedar City, UT and visited Bryce Canyon National Park. On our journey to the park entrance on Wednesday morning, we negotiated a mountain pass in the aftermath of a light snowstorm on Utah 14, and I noted that the mountains in southern Utah were not as high as the Rocky Mountains in Colorado, and correspondingly the valleys seemed wider. My fly fishing obsessed mind speculated that the sun would more easily penetrate this terrain, and the run off season in southern Utah might end sooner than in Colorado. As an aside, this demonstrates that my fly fishing addiction grips me throughout the year and twenty-four hours a day.

Fast forward to June 15 2016, and Jane and I returned from Pennsylvania, and run off was in full force in Colorado. I remembered my observations regarding southern Utah, and we formulated a plan for a combined fly fishing/camping trip to that area. I researched campgrounds and earmarked three USFS areas that offered first come, first serve camping near Capitol Reef National Park. The Fremont River flowed through this national park, and this was the water that I targeted for fly fishing. Jane and I marked our calendars for a trip to southern Utah from June 24-27.

Another factor pointing me toward the Fremont River was the Fremont River Guides Instagram account. I began following this feed three or four months ago, and the guide service posts peaked my interest in this relatively small but productive fishery. In an effort to confirm my theory that stream flows were at comfortable fishing levels, I checked some on line reports. One report noted that water was spilling over the top of one of the upstream dams, and this raised some concerns in my mind. It was a long drive to Capitol Reef, so I wanted assurances that stream fishing would be possible. I called the Fremont River Guides phone number, and the person who answered assured me that the guides were on the river and enjoying decent success.

Meanwhile I routinely check the DWR web site, and I noticed that the flows on the Yampa River in Steamboat Springs were trending downward at 200 cfs per day. Based on this trend I estimated that volume would be in the low 1,000’s by the date of our scheduled trip to Capitol Reef. On June 23, 2015 I experienced a wonderful day of fishing on the Yampa River within the town of Steamboat Springs, when the flows were at 959 cfs and declining. It appeared that the Yampa would be 200 – 300 cfs higher by the same date in 2016, but the Steamboat Flyfisher web site documented that edge fishing was already possible, and that pale morning duns were hatching.

Jane loves the Steamboat area and particularly Steamboat Lake State Park, so we decided to alter our plans and make the trip to the Yampa Valley rather than southern Utah. The problem was the camping situation. We desired to camp Wednesday through Saturday night, but all the campsites at Steamboat Lake State Park were reserved for Friday and Saturday nights.

I remembered camping at the Meadows Campground on Rabbit Ears pass on June 30, 2015, so I checked the Routt National Forest Service web page and learned that the campground was first come, first serve. Based on this we assumed that we could grab a campsite on Wednesday ahead of the weekend crowd and pay for four or five nights once we selected our site. The Meadows Campground is ideally located for fishing in the Yampa Valley area as well as hiking and biking activities.

On Wednesday afternoon I Initiated our plan when I began my journey to the Meadows Campground. I encountered my first hurdle as I traveled north from Kremmling on US 40, when huge black clouds rolled in from the west, and heavy waves of rain pounded against my car. I slowed my speed to a safe level and called Jane to check the radar. Fortunately she informed me that the weather app depicted only clouds and no rain for Steamboat Springs.

With this positive news in my possession I continued on north and then west on Rabbit Ears Pass until I reached the Meadows Campground entrance road. Indeed the rain ended and only high clouds remained in the western sky. I made a left turn off of route 40, and after a mile I met a gate and campground closed sign. I was perplexed by this turn of events, but road construction was in progress on the highway nearby, so perhaps the campground closing related to that.

My fallback was Dumont Lake, so I reversed direction and traveled east to the larger campground on the eastern side of Rabbit Ears Pass. Reaching the entrance requires driving on a one mile dirt road, and when I approached the Dumont Lake campground entrance, another closed sign greeted me. Now what could I do? Where could I sleep on Wednesday night? I called Jane, who helped me by using the desktop computer at home to access the Routt National Forest web site, and she discovered that both campgrounds were closed and not scheduled to open until June 25 or later.

I recalled seeing three campgrounds northeast of Steamboat Springs on Buffalo Pass Road when I reviewed the web site before leaving, so Jane clicked on them and informed me that all except Dry Lake were not currently open for the season. I decided to drive to Dry Lake, although the web site volunteered that only eight campsites existed, and the usage was heavy. After thirty minutes of additional driving, I found and circled the Dry Lake Campground only to discover that all the sites were occupied. My thoughts turned to hotels in Steamboat Springs, as I descended Buffalo Pass Road.

As I slowly negotiated the washboard dirt road, I glanced to the left and caught a glimpse of a mama bear and two darling bear cubs. They were at the end of a lane and under a ranch gate that read Moose Ridge. I backed up the car to get a better look, but before I stopped, the three bears scattered quickly into the adjacent brush. At least one positive experience surfaced on my otherwise frustrating Wednesday evening.

Campsite at Stagecoach McKinley Loop

I called Jane again, and she suggested Steamboat Lake, since there were likely openings on Wednesday night although not for the weekend, and this jogged my memory, and I thought of the much closer option of Stagecoach State Park. I drove back through Steamboat and then southeast to Stagecoach, where I finally found three open campsites in the Mckinley Loop. Whew! I secured lodging for Wednesday night. Fortunately it was the second longest day of the year, as I needed the daylight to set up the tent, pay for the site, and eat dinner. Meanwhile some black clouds moved in from the southeast, and the wind kicked up, but only a small amount of rain developed.

Thursday morning was uneventful, although I skipped my normal cup of hot tea and oatmeal, because the camp stove was buried in the compartment under the floor of the tailgate area. Accessing the stove would have entailed removing the mountain bikes and all the camping gear, and I did not relish that undertaking. Our packing system anticipated a four night stay and not a one nighter. I improvised and quickly ate a trail mix bar and a cup of yogurt and took down the tent and headed to town.

Yampa River at 1200 CFS

When I arrived in Steamboat, I parked at the lot by Howelsen Hill in front of a picnic gazebo and locked the bikes and walked across the pedestrian bridge to the Off the Beaten Path Bookstore, where I purchased a cup of hot tea at the nice coffee bar. I sipped my tea as I strolled back to the car, and then I used the picnic tables to prepare to fish. The sky was overcast and the breeze suggested rain, so I wore my raincoat. After I pulled on my waders and assembled my Sage One five weight rod, I walked to the pedestrian bridge across from Howelsen Hill. Here I gazed up and down the river, and my spirits dipped a bit when I realized that the flows of 1200 cfs translated to bank to bank velocity. Fishing on the town side of the river appeared to be impossible since restaurants and businesses bordered the river, and this allowed minimal space for moving upstream.

Starting Point

The southern bank offered more flexibility as only vegetation in the form of shrubs and low trees bordered the river. I elected to explore the south side of the river downstream from the pedestrian bridge, so I circled back to the parking lot and then hiked beyond the skate park and crossed the railroad tracks and bushwhacked through some dense shrubs until I reached the edge of the river. The pattern of fighting through brush to move between the few fish holding locations would repeat itself over the remainder of the day.

I began fishing with a size eight Chernobyl ant trailing a beadhead hares ear and salvation nymph at 10:15, and I moved upstream to the pedestrian bridge by noon. I was not confident that I could land any fish under these challenging conditions, but after fifteen minutes I reached a place where there was a narrow five foot slot next to the bank where the river velocity slowed. I drifted my three flies through this area several times, and on the fifth pass, the Chernobyl dipped. I lifted the rod tip quickly and found myself attached to a hot brown trout. I know it was a brown, as it rocketed out of the water several times, before it shed my hook. This jolt of action caused me to reassess my prospects for the day.

Getting Bigger

Over the remainder of the morning I landed five energized fish, and I learned how to identify the prominent fish holding spots. Several of my morning catches were healthy fish in the twelve to fifteen inch range. By 11:30 I noticed several small mayflies floating up from the edge of the river, and this observance coincided with when the fish began to chow down on my salvation nymph. I was thrilled to see emerging mayflies, and even more pleased to have a fish count of five despite the adverse wading conditions. Evidently I succeeded in finding the hot edge fishing that I seek early in the summer season.

I crossed the railroad tracks below the pedestrian bridge, and circled around the fence and wall until I was on the upside. Here I found a decent path down to the river, and this led to a juicy location by run off standards, where a log jutted from the bank and created a small slow moving shelf pool. A branch from a tree angled in front of me, but I was able to backhand casts around the branch into the very attractive riffle over moderate depth between the current break and the intrusive branch. I made a few fruitless drifts, and as I was doing this, the hatch intensified and three fish began to rise in the sweet spot beyond the branch.

Wow.

Although a time consuming hassle, I decided to make a conversion from dry dropper to a single cinnamon size 18 comparadun. As I went through this process, I glanced toward my target area, and the stream residents continued to sip duns from the surface. My heart raced as I cinched down the final knot, and I began to flick casts to the lower portion of the run. Needless to say, I was rewarded for making the changeover. I landed three gorgeous fish from this small area, including a fat seventeen inch rainbow and a hook jawed brown trout that measured eighteen inches. The brown was just a brute of a fish with wide shoulders and a large jaw, and I was amazed that it sipped my tiny size 18 comparadun.

Brook Trout Makes Trifecta

For the remainder of the afternoon I enjoyed similar success, although the three above the bridge were my only dry fly victims. The heavy cloud cover and overcast conditions persisted, and this prompted several waves of intense pale morning dun emergence. Every once in a while the sun would break through, and the dense presence of PMD’s would follow. Unfortunately I never observed additional rising fish, but it did not matter, as I returned to the dry/dropper approach, and the fish seemed to relish the salvation nymph. Sometimes it pays to fish subsurface during a heavy hatch, and this was one of those scenarios.

Mr. Stripe

I landed twelve additional trout between noon and my quitting time of 3:30. Many were twelve inch rainbows, but several more substantial striped fish were in the mix thus prompting me to snap photos. One fat bow in excess of fifteen inches with a wide scarlet band was particularly memorable. The most difficult aspect of fishing on June 23 was gaining access to the relatively scarce fish holding spots. It was impossible to wade along the edge of the river due to the high velocity current, so I repeatedly punched through the brush to the railroad bed and then moved upstream. It was very difficult to see the river through the brush, so periodically I parted the branches to reach the edge of the river where I could look upstream for attractive locales. Of course all this bushwhacking led to entanglements, sticks in the face, and net grabbing. Aside from landing twenty fish, one of my major accomplishments was avoiding breaking my rod or falling.

The Release

What a spectacular day on the Yampa River on June 23, 2016! The pale morning dun hatch endured from 11AM until 3PM, and the fish were hungry and willing to grab my offerings. Of the twenty landed fish, at least eight were in the thirteen to eighteen inch range. And all the fish were energized. I attribute the strong fights to the early season, cold water and lack of fishing pressure during the snow melt window. I returned to Denver on Thursday after my exceptional day of fishing, but I am already trying to schedule another visit before the river drops too much, and the tube traffic makes fishing during the day impossible.

Fish Landed: 20

Goodbye

Lowering to Freedom