Monthly Archives: August 2017

Colorado River – 08/04/2017

Time: 10:00AM – 1:30PM

Location: Kemp-Breeze Unit below Parshall

Colorado River 08/04/2017 Photo Album

During 2007 through 2009 I experienced the halcyon days of the upper Colorado River near Parshall, CO. I visited the public access points in this area seven times during this time frame, and each provided hours of hot action. Pale morning duns, caddis and blue winged olives hatched regularly; and my fly box contained the flies that enabled me to record outstanding days with fish counts in the upper teens and low twenties. The quality of fish was also exemplary with many trout that measured in the fifteen to twenty inch range.

During 2010 I made one visit to the scene of some of my favorite fishing excursions, but I only managed to land seven fish, and the abundant hatches that encouraged surface feeding from the resident trout never materialized. In subsequent years I returned and experienced similar disappointing results.

As I considered my fishing options for Friday August 4, I recalled the wonderful hatches and excellent fishing during the halcyon period. I decided to retrieve my fishing logs from the archives, so I could do some analysis. Perhaps I stumbled into a late July/early August mayfly hatch that was not pale morning duns, and visits after 2010 took place outside this window of opportunity? Sure enough when I reviewed the 2007 through 2010 log reports, I discovered that all the visits took place between July 28 and August 5. Subsequent trips were either earlier or later than the historically productive time frame.

There was only one way to test my theory, and that was to make another trip in 2017 on August 4. I actually printed the fishing log entry for August 5, 2008 and read it a second time, since I planned to use it as a template for my attempt to reinstate the upper Colorado River as a favored summer fishing destination. I packed the car the night before and departed Denver by 7:05AM, and this placed me at the Breeze Unit parking lot by 9:15. Several cars preceded me, and as I was assembling my Sage One five weight, a guide and clients arrived and parked behind me. The upper Colorado is a mosquito haven, so I doused myself with insect repellent as soon as I stepped outside the car, but for some reason the population seemed diminished compared to prior experience.

Wide Open

I tromped down the path and cut through some trees, so that I emerged next to the river above a duck blind and handicapped platform. A group of fishermen with guides were one hundred yards upstream, and another angler was positioned below the handicapped platform, while his wife or significant other monitored his movements from the wooden deck. The structure of the river was a bit different compared to my recollection, but a nice deep run began just above my position and then continued downstream to a point below the handicapped platform.

The flows were in the 380 CFS range, and the sky was bright blue and devoid of clouds. The temperature was in the low sixties when I began and probably peaked at around eighty degrees. I observed the water in front of me for a bit, and other than a few random caddis, I saw nothing that suggested that dry fly fishing would be successful. With this observation in mind I knotted a size 10 yellow Letort hopper to my line and then added a beadhead hares ear nymph and beadhead salvation nymph. The Letort hopper was a concession to the throwback nature of the outing.

I made numerous drifts along the deep run, but my efforts provided no evidence that trout were present. As is usually the case, the Letort hopper became saturated, and since it was not enticing fish, I swapped it for a yellow fat Albert for improved visibility and buoyancy. Not wishing to encroach on the gentleman below me, I decided to advance to the top of the deep run and then cross to the opposite side. During my fun years, I enjoyed some of my best action in the riffles and deep runs between the strong center current and the south bank, and I intended to explore the area in 2017.

Once I crossed to the midpoint, I angled downstream so I could begin in the shallow section where the river fans out above a small island across from the platform. My memory flashed images of large brown trout feeding on dry flies in the shallows in the success years, and I was unwilling to discount a repeat. I prospected the dry/dropper systematically beginning in the shallows and worked my way upstream to the point where the fast water entered the extended run and riffle section. I sprayed four or five casts across the targeted area, and then I carefully waded four steps and repeated the exercise. Halfway through this process the velocity of the center current accelerated, and each step became a challenge, but I persisted so that I could cover the sweet spot between where I stood and the bank.

The top one-third of this section looked absolutely exceptional. The depth was four to six feet and the current was moderate. Surely hungry fish selected this attractive area as their home. I began to see more caddis dapping on the surface in the top segment, so I removed the salvation nymph and replaced it with an emerald caddis pupa. Inexplicably after significant effort I covered the entire fifty yard quality area without so much as a refusal. At the very top a narrow deep slick extended for twenty-five feet below a large exposed rock, and this represented my last chance to extract a reward for my morning persistence. I flicked a backhand cast to the middle of the narrow slot, and after the fat Albert drifted a couple feet it paused, and I reacted with a lift and felt myself attached to a thrashing fish. Could this really be happening? After a brief fight, I guided a twelve inch brown trout with an emerald caddis pupa in its lip into my net, and I snapped a few photos in case this was my last fish of the day.

After Two Futile Hours

It was now between 11:30 and noon, and I began to search for a lunch spot. Both banks were covered with tall grass, and that translated to mosquito disturbance, and I hoped to avoid that eventuality. I looked downstream and noted the small island and decided that the rocks at the point would be a solid lunch perch. It took me a few minutes to wade downstream, but I eventually arrived and enjoyed my snack.

Downstream Look at Island and Platform

While I crunched my carrots I began to see several rises in the shallow section between the deep run next to the wooden deck and the island that served as my lunch counter. Initially I dismissed the fish as small fish, but then I resolved that any rising fish was better than none. After all I was in the prime hatch time period according to my printed August 5, 2008 log, so perhaps this was the beginning of something bigger.

I hurriedly finished my lunch and then reconfigured with a solitary size 16 light gray comparadun also know as the money fly. I was playing the 2008 rewind to the maximum. I dabbed some floatant on the body and flicked the mayfly imitation, so it drifted over the location of one of the rises, and in an instant a fish flashed to the surface and inhaled the fraud. I could not believe my eyes, as I set the hook and engaged in a tussle with a nice thirteen inch brown trout. So much for my small fish theory.

A Riser Fooled

Over the next thirty minutes I landed another feisty thirteen inch brown along with a smaller version to improve my fish count to four. I envisioned a replay of 2008, but alas the rising ended, and the brief sparse hatch disappeared. I never saw an actual mayfly, but the sudden feeding action indicated that it must have taken place. By 12:30 I finally acknowledged that the hatch was over, and I considered my next move. Perhaps if I waded upstream to the riffles, I could spot more subtle rises and cast to them with my size 16 comparadun?

Another Money Fly Chomper

I did exactly that, but zero fish revealed their position, and I managed no success, as I prospected the money fly over relatively shallow riffles. While the hatch evolved, two new gentlemen arrived, and they located on the north side of the long riffle with the deep center current. They were somewhat below the top one-third section that appealed to me in the morning, and I decided that I would like to check out the quality area again but with a dry fly approach. I walked along the edge of the river until I reached a place where some thick bushes stretched over the water, and this forced me to wade a bit deeper to avoid them. As soon as I stepped on the upstream side of the bushes, I was surprised to see two fishermen sitting on the bank eating their lunch. They were perfectly positioned to fish the area that I was targeting, so I executed a reversal and retraced my steps along the fringe of the river.

I found a place to cross to the bank where I began my day, and as I did so, the two fishermen below me decided to call it a day. We exchanged greetings, and then I advanced downstream to where it all began in the morning. I stopped and observed the long deep run hoping to witness some subtle rises, but none appeared. The 2008 report documented that the hatch ended at 1PM, and the remainder of the afternoon was relatively slow. The air temperature was quite warm, and the sky was clear blue, and I sensed that tough fishing would rule the afternoon. I decided to cut my losses and moved to a small cold mountain creek with less discerning more opportunistic fish.

My experiment was over, and I concluded that for some reason the heavy hatches of late July and early August were largely a historical event. It is true that I only sampled one day, and perhaps different weather would spur more action, but for the future I plan to avoid the upper Colorado in July and August, while I seek other destinations with a recent record of success.

Fish Landed: 4

Busk Creek – 08/02/2017

Time: 12:30PM – 2:30PM

Location: Upstream from Turquoise Lake Road

Busk Creek 08/02/2017 Photo Album

“You win some; you lose some” Unknown

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained” Benjamin Franklin

What could these quotes have to do with my fly fishing adventure on Wednesday, August 2, 2017? The highlight of Wednesday was the hike, that Jane and I completed to Timberline Lake near the western tip of Turquoise Lake.

We found a nice campsite at the Father Dyer Campground, one of many campgrounds along the eastern shoreline of Turquoise Lake on Tuesday night. We lived in Colorado for twenty-seven years, yet we never spent any time in the Turquoise Lake Recreation Area, and we corrected that shortcoming on Tuesday and Wednesday. We were both surprised by how close the eastern side of the lake is to Leadville, as my iPhone maps application indicated roughly three miles and eight minutes, and this proved to be correct.

On Tuesday evening I met Jane at the Chamber of Commerce Visitor Center along Harrison Avenue in Leadville, and we then parked our cars on Seventh Avenue next to a large church. We decided to walk up and down the main street to scope out possible eating establishments, and then we returned to the Periodic Brew Pub on Seventh for a craft beer. While strolling north on Harrison, we noticed some dark clouds and heard distant thunder, so after draining our brews, we drove Jane’s car to a parking lot near Manuelita’s Cantina. We enjoyed some tasty chips and salsa, and we each ordered and consumed pork tamales, while the skies opened and flushed sheets of rain on the high elevation mining town.

We waited out the storm, and then Jane dropped me off at my car, and we followed the aforementioned map app directions to the Father Dyer Campground. We cruised Baby Doe first, but as a result of its close proximity to the lake, it was nearly full. Campsite number twenty was our choice, and it provided a nice amount of space, although the table and ground were quite saturated from the recent storm.

Best View

Before embarking on the fishing/camping venture, we reviewed the National Geographic maps for the area, and we spotted a four mile round trip hike to Timberline Lake. This became our destination for Wednesday, so after packing up our gear including a wet tent, we drove seven miles along Turquoise Lake Road to the western most point along the lake. We stopped several times along the way to check out overlooks and snapped a few photos.

Five Inch Waves

The trailhead coincided with an access point to the Colorado Trail, and six cars preceded us to the parking lot. We departed at 9:40 and returned by noon. The climb was gentle for the first mile, but the topography shifted to challenging steeps for the second half. The climb was well worth it, as the small lake nestled among Rocky Mountain peaks was spectacular to behold. We snapped a few photos and found some perches on the large rocks and enjoyed some snacks, before we said goodbye to the beauty and the wind.

Indian Paintbrush

Upon our return to the trailhead parking lot, Jane and I ate our lunches, and then Jane departed for her return trip to Denver. I meanwhile prepared for my fishing adventure for the day. When I planned the trip, I debated between trying the Reddy SWA south of Leadville or Busk Creek. Busk Creek was a small high mountain stream a mile or two south of the Timberline Lake trailhead. Since we were within minutes of Busk Creek, I decided to give it a look.

I returned to Turquoise Lake Road and turned right, and after passing May Queen Campground I passed over a small tumbling creek. Two cars were parked near the stream, and a couple was posing for a selfie on a large boulder just above the road. I continued beyond the stream and executed a U-turn, and parked in a narrow pullout twenty yards past the stream. The weather on Wednesday was quite variable, as it vacillated between sunny and mid sixties and cloudy and cool. I debated wet wading and finally took the plunge and pulled on my quick-dry pants and wading socks. I rigged my Orvis Access four weight, and I was set to explore new water.

One of the Better Places on Busk Creek

I surveyed the terrain west of the road, and I noticed a dirt path that climbed a steep bank and then continued into the evergreen forest. Rather that returning to the stream crossing and disturbing the selfie creators, I scrambled up the bank and hiked for fifty yards, and then I cut through the forest to the stream. As I expected, the creek was no more than ten feet wide in most places, and the high gradient manifested itself with a series of fast runs, pockets and plunge pools. Clearly this was going to be fast paced fishing with a few casts in likely spots and constant movement.

I started my quest for mountain trout with a size 14 yellow stimulator, but it was soundly ignored. I was not certain if this testified to a lack of fish, or if it was a rejection of my fly choice. I crossed the small creek to the north side, and here it was evident that quite a few folks had preceded me, and I suspected that many were fishermen. This observation was clear from the wear of the path and obvious creekside casting platforms.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless casting, I paused, and as I pondered my next move, I spied two large green drakes that cruised skyward from the surface of the tumbling stream. What a fortuitous discovery! This made my choice easy, and I quickly knotted a Harrop hair wing green drake size 14 to my line. The observation paid off as I landed a small brown and then a second brown that stretched to ten inches. I was not sure I would land more fish, so I snapped a quick photo and moved on.

Pretty Little Brown Trout

I was feeling rather smug about spotting the green drakes and making the change, but then I suffered through a lengthy lull with no action. The stream was so fast that even the few pockets that I prospected were rather marginal, so I continued on with the green drake hoping that I would encounter some larger trout holding pools. As these thoughts were passing through my brain, some very dark clouds moved in from the southwest, and this was accompanied by distant thunder. I decided to demonstrate uncommon preparedness, and I slid into my raincoat. The move was just in time, and sheets of rain descended upon my wide brimmed hat and rain coat. Of course I was wading wet, so it seemed kind of pointless to keep my upper body dry while standing in water, but I needed all the warmth I could gather.

Nice Little Shelf Pool

A flash of lightning startled me, so I retreated back along the path to a place under an overhanging cliff, and I waited there for five minutes until the sky brightened in the west. I returned to my exit point, and in a short amount of time I approached a gorgeous wide deep pool. My first thought was that this was the prime spot on the entire drainage, and consequently it absorbed the attacks of all manner of bait, spinner and fly fishermen. What were the chances of landing a fish here? I cast the green drake to all the corners of the pool, but as I expected no reaction was forthcoming.

This Pool Produced the Oversized Brown

Just prior to reaching the pool, I began to consider a dry/dropper approach, and given the quality water in front of me, I decided to give it a try. I removed the green drake and tied a size 12 Chernobyl ant to my line, and then I extended some tippet off the bend and attached a beadhead hares ear. Surely any self respecting wild trout could not resist my beadhead hares ear nymph. I lobbed a backhand cast to the left side of the pool, and as expected it drifted unmolested to the tail. Why not go for the jugular? I flipped a second cast to the current that ran through the core of the pool, and the Chernobyl drifted at a moderate pace over the deepest area and approached the tail. As I looked on, a sizable fish materialized from the depths, and it quickly turned its head in the vicinity of my trailing nymph! In a nanosecond my brain recognized what happened, and I lifted the rod tip and found myself attached to a fourteen inch brown trout in a tiny mountain stream near Turquoise Lake. What a thrill!

Monster for Tiny Busk Creek

I cautiously played the fish as it charged about the confined space, and then I slid my net beneath the small stream Goliath. I could not believe my eyes. I snapped a few photos and released my prize catch and proceeded up the steep creek with renewed optimism.

I was sold on the Chernobyl/hares ear combination, and I attacked the deepest holes and pockets with elevated enthusiasm. The hares ear managed to attract one more small brown trout, and then I suffered through an hour of futility. Another series of dark clouds passed overhead, and the wind kicked up, and short periods of light rain returned. My hands morphed into curled claws, as the evaporating moisture created a cooling effect. In truth the quality of the water was very marginal, as the flow rushed downhill and bounced through a never ending boulder field. I combined all these factors with my extreme discomfort from wading wet in fifty degree temperatures with no counterbalancing effect from the sun, and I decided to hustle back to the car.

Upon my return I quickly jettisoned the wet clothes, and initially I planned to spend the next couple hours at the Reddy SWA. However, as I began to drive back to the east, I looked at my watch and realized that it was 3:15. By the time I reached the SWA parking lot and pulled on my waders, it would be at least 3:30, and that allowed merely another hour or two of fishing. Logic overcame my desire to fish, and I made the return drive to Denver. Judging from the weather that I encountered on the two hour drive, I made the correct decision.

If I were to return to Busk Creek, I would probably drive on the Hagerman Pass road until it meets Busk Creek, and then I would hike farther from the starting point to get away from the easy to access pressured areas. In all likelihood I will never return to Busk Creek, and going forward I will refer to it as Bust Creek. I managed to land a gorgeous fourteen inch brown trout, and I only invested two hours, but the effort and adversity did not justify the results. I ventured, but I did not register a gain. In this case I lost, but I will continue to explore new areas to widen my fly fishing destination options.

Fish Landed: 4

Arkansas River – 08/01/2017

Time: 11:30AM – 3:30PM

Location: Hayden Meadows

Arkansas River 08/01/2017 Photo Album

Landing 26 fish on the Cache la Poudre River on Monday was enjoyable, but I craved the deep bend of a more substantial fish, as I contemplated my next fishing trip. July 26 on the Arkansas River lingered as a recent memorable outing, particularly fooling brown trout with a size 14 green drake imitation. The large Harrop hair wing style was easy to follow on the surface of the river, and the trout moved quickly and confidently to crush the fake version. Although I was certain that the gray drake hatch was waning, I pondered whether the stream residents would continue to respond to a well presented imitation.

The Hayden Meadows area was the draw, but the salesperson at the Orvis store, where I purchased my new reel, sang the praises of the Reddy State Wildlife Area on the west side of US 24, and this information also attracted me to a return trip to the upper Arkansas River south of Leadville. I checked out my National Geographic maps of the area, and I identified a nice hike that began from the western end of Turquoise Lake. The Turquoise Lake Recreation Area featured quite a few campgrounds, and I convinced Jane to join me on Tuesday evening for dinner in Leadville and camping at Turquoise Lake. I bribed her with a commitment to accompany her on a four mile round trip hike to Timberline Lake on Wednesday morning.

Testing the Phone Camera

I packed most of the car on Monday evening, after I returned from the Cache la Poudre, and this enabled me to arrive at the Hayden Meadows northern parking lot by 11AM. I considered exploring Reddy SWA, but I opted to save the new stretch of water for Wednesday afternoon after our hike. I assembled my Sage four weight and departed on the two track dirt lane, and in a slight deviation from July 26 I hiked for twenty minutes in an effort to begin farther downstream. It was warm and sunny, and the temperature peaked in the upper sixties at the high elevation river. Flows were comparable to July 26 although a bit lower, as I was able to cautiously cross at selected spots, where wide shallow riffles reduced the strong velocity.

Wide Riffle

Since it was 11:30 by the time I entered the river, I decided to go directly to my Harrop hair wing green drake. It was a bit early compared to the previous Wednesday, but I theorized that the large mayfly imitation might serve as an attractor, since the hatch even a week ago was very sparse. My optimism soared, when I spotted a solitary gray drake, while I was attaching the hair wing to my line. Unfortunately this represented my sole gray drake sighting for the day.

The green drake imitation generated a couple refusals early on, so the fish were tuned into something similar, but I began to fear that it would be a tough day. There was no hesitation from the Hayden Meadows fish on July 26, so why the reluctance on August 1? Perhaps the Harrop was a bit too bushy or perhaps the trout were really locked on smaller caddis with a similar profile? I switched to a size 14 gray stimulator, and the smaller fly produced a look, but no take.

Lunch Spot

After half an hour of fruitless casting I sat down on some rocks and ate my lunch, while I contemplated my next move. The mental sifting led me to shift to a dry/dropper featuring a yellow fat Albert, iron sally, and salvation nymph. The nymphs yielded five nice brown trout on July 26 before I migrated to the Harrop green drake, so perhaps my application of the dry fly was too early in the daily feeding cycle.

First Fish

From 12:30 until 1:30 I landed three brown trout using the dry/dropper method. The first fish was one of the best on the day; a fifteen inch bruiser that gulped the salvation nymph. Somehow during the fight the iron sally wrapped around the head of the brown, and this made the battle extra challenging. Another of the three early afternoon fish was small, and the third was a decent twelve inch specimen. Hayden Meadows brown trout seem to be pound for pound tougher fighters than other brown trout in the Rocky Mountains.

At 1:30 I began to worry that I was missing out on drake action, so I converted back to the Harrop style fly. Although the hair wing did not produce in a manner similar to July 26, I managed to net five additional browns. One was a carbon copy seven incher, but three measured in the eleven to thirteen inch range, and the last one on the day was another hard fighting fifteen inch brute. I cast to a narrow slow moving band of water along the bank from above. On previous casts drag commenced within seconds, but in this instance I managed to create a pause which enabled the fly to hover next to the seam in a tantalizing fashion. The brown could not resist the large mayfly about to escape, and it flashed to the surface and crushed the tempting morsel. The visual take was clearly the highlight of the day.

Vivid Deep Colors

I fished on for another forty-five minutes, but the water seemed increasingly dead as the afternoon slid by. At 3:30 I was uncertain how far I was from the parking lot, and I did not wish to be late for my rendezvous with Jane in Leadville, so I reeled up the green drake and hooked it to my rod guide and found my way back to the car.

Tuesday August 1 was clearly inferior to July 26, but two of my catch were larger than anything that found my net the previous week. As I was stashing my gear at the car, a young Department of Wildlife gentleman appeared, and he asked me a series of questions for a survey. When I communicated to him that I landed eight brown trout with two in the fifteen inch range, he volunteered that I caught 80% of the trout landed in Hayden Meadows that day. His surveys found only two other fish caught on August 1, so while eight fish in four hours is average on my scale, my numbers were quite acceptable based on the DOW survey. More importantly it was a gorgeous first day of August with cool temperatures and spectacular fourteeners in the background.

Fish Landed: 8