Time: 10:30AM – 4:00PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/29/2024 Photo Album

I craved a double digit fish count day, as my high point in 2024 rested at eight. Yes, several outings yielded eight high quality fish, but more action offset by smaller fish was perfectly acceptable to this avid angler.

Monday, April 29 produced a weather forecast of high temperatures in the low seventies in Denver, so I assumed that this translated to acceptable temperatures in the mountains and foothills. I quickly reviewed my Weather Underground app for Lake George, and I was pleased to discover highs in the mid to upper fifties with cloudiness prevalent in the afternoon. Flows remained at 137 CFS, and this was encouraging after heavy rain on Saturday.

I made the drive and arrived at my chosen location by 10:00AM. I was disappointed to note that the dashboard thermometer registered 46 degrees, and a stiff breeze greeted me, as I stepped out of my Telluride. I swapped my high tech short-sleeved undershirt for a long sleeve Columbia thermal version, and then I layered up with fleece, light down and a rain shell. Once again I snugged on my billed hat with earflaps. Will winter-like weather ever depart from my fishing trips? For my casting tool I strung my Sage R8 four weight.

Scene of a Couple Rises

I decided to explore some new water, so I walked downstream along a path for .2 mile, and then I crossed and fished from the bank opposite the road. I began with a yellow size 8 fat Albert, a prince nymph and a beadhead hares ear nymph. Early in my venture I spotted two sporadic rises in a nice deep run along the roadside bank, but I was unable to create any interest in my nymphs in spite of imparting movement via lifts and swings. After fifteen minutes with no response to my flies, I swapped the hares ear for a sparkle wing RS2, but that move was a resounding non event. After forty-five minutes of fishing all the likely deep runs and moderate riffles with no action, I removed the prince nymph and replaced it with a 20 incher in an effort to generate deeper drifts along the bottom.

First Trout Was a Brown

Home of the Wild Brown Next to the Log

The move paid dividends, when I landed a very nice wild brown trout in a deep pocket along a fallen log, and the netted fish nabbed the 20 incher. Another fifteen minutes of probing resulted in another lull, and by 11:30AM I approached the parking lot and my car. A couple occupied the pool opposite the parking lot, so I used this as an excuse to warm my hands, and I sat on the tailgate in the sun and ate my lunch.

Type of Water Where I Was Swinging and Lifting

The air remained quite cold and windy, so I made no adjustments to my attire, and I returned to the river an acceptable distance above the fly fishing couple. Within a few minutes I hooked up temporarily with a brown trout, but it quickly evaded my efforts to bring it to the net, and I moved on and fished some very nice deep runs and pockets. I managed to land a couple rainbows that also favored the 20 incher, before I approached a series of long, deep and slow moving glide pools. At this point I was fishing the 20 incher along with a classic RS2, and I began to make casts across the river and allowed the flies to lift and swing at the end of the drift. This tactic worked, as several fish nabbed the 20 incher, and another pair grabbed the RS2, and the fish count mounted to a respectable seven.

Took 20 Incher on the Swing

Area Where I First Noticed the Hatch

I glanced at my watch and noted that it was 1:30PM, and some large puffy clouds skidded across the sky and blocked the sun. Instantly the wind kicked up, and a flurry of rises commenced across the pool. I could not resist the allure of dry fly fishing, so I paused to cut off my dry/dropper configuration and replaced it with a double dry that featured a hippie stomper in front and trailed a soft hackle emerger. Ten casts among the risers convinced me that the soft hackle emerger was not the answer, so I swapped it for a CDC blue wing olive. This did the trick, and for the next twenty minutes I executed across and down reach casts in order to place the tiny dry ahead of the stomper, and this succeeded a number of times, as I boosted the fish count to ten. This was by no means easy pickings, but it worked often enough to satisfy my craving for dry fly action.

An Early Dry Fly Eater

Suddenly the sun reappeared, and the wind subsided, and the fish stopped rising. The next section featured a myriad of fast water, deep runs and pockets; and the double dry did not seem well suited to prospecting without the benefit of visible fish, so I converted back to the dry/dropper. In this instance, however, I attached an emerald caddis pupa as the end fly. The change in strategy failed, and after covering a forty yard section, I arrived at the long bend pool. I paused to observe, and this break once again coincided with dense cloud cover, and the weather change resulted in the resumption of the baetis hatch, as a cluster of trout began to feed. Three or four lined up along the main current seam, and another pod sipped olives, where the main current fanned into moderate riffles.

Most of My Dry Fly Action Was Here

A Fine Wild Brown Trout

Once again I made the conversion to a double dry arrangement, and for the remainder of the afternoon I cast my flies across and allowed them to drift downstream to the greedily feeding trout. I had a blast, as I boosted the fish count from ten to eighteen, I called it quits at 4PM. I cycled through several CDC blue wing olives, as I sought flies with fluffed out dry wings, and after several landed fish the CDC became thin and matted. Eight fish in the net sounds impressive, but this transpired over two hours of fishing and quite a few waves of hatches, heavy cloud cover and increased wind velocity. The CDC puff worked often enough to keep me in the game, but it was also ignored on many drifts. I suspect that there were so many naturals on the water that timing played a large role in determining whether a trout would sip my fly or instead opt for a fluttering natural.

Hatch Feeder

At four o’clock the sun reappeared, and the hatch ended, and I surveyed the western sky. It was obvious that a huge blue sky gap was in progress, and I was unwilling to wait for another wave of low light and emerging mayflies. I clipped my flies to my rod guide and returned to the car satisfied with the knowledge that I reached double digits for the first time in 2024, and I enjoyed an extended BWO hatch and capitalized on it with some steady success.

Eighteen fish in five hours is a decent but not outstanding catch rate, and the largest fish was thirteen inches. Some of the rainbows appeared to be stockers, but several possessed the vivid markings of carryovers. The brown trout were clearly wild, and the two thirteen inchers were the best fish of the day. I look forward to more adventures on the South Platte River before the levels rise as a concession to snow melt.

Fish Landed: 18

Time: 11:30AM – 3:15PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/19/2024 Photo Album

Brutal. Brutal is the word that comes to mind to describe my day of fly fishing on the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon on Friday, April 19, 2024. The trout that I landed on Friday were some of the hardest earned fish of my fly fishing life.

After a challenging but productive day on Monday, I reviewed my schedule and the weather forecast for another opportunity to visit Colorado rivers and streams. I had to take my new/used car into the dealer on Tuesday for a warranty repair, and the work lingered into Wednesday and thus eliminated two weekdays from my fishing plans. Thursday was grandson care day, so that left Friday. I launched Weather Underground, and I noticed that a storm system was moving in on Friday afternoon. The predicted conditions looked very similar to Monday, however, the temperatures were forecast to be a bit colder, and the storm arrived a bit earlier in the day. I decided to roll the dice, and I made the drive to Eleven Mile.

My decision was immediately fraught with adversity, as the traffic south through Denver was heavy and slow. The weather was very foreboding with dense clouds, drizzle and a temperature reading around freezing. I expected the cloud cover to lift by Colorado Springs, but that was not the case; however, as I moved west of Woodland Park, blue skies appeared in the western sky. The dashboard temperature climbed marginally to 34 degrees. Much to my amazement the temperature blasted from 34 degrees to 45 degrees by the time I reached the small town of Divide at the top of Ute Pass. Normally increases in elevation cause the temperature to plummet, but apparently the radiant energy from the clear sky and sun more than offset the elevation gain.

I arrived at my chosen destination in Eleven Mile Canyon by 11:00AM, and the temperature there was 47 degrees. My trust in Weather Underground was momentarily renewed. I busied myself preparing for a day of fishing in the canyon. I already wore my Under Armour long-sleeved undershirt, and I layered up with my fishing shirt, fleece hoodie, North Face light down and rain shell. I felt like Michelin Man. For headgear I snugged on my billed hat with earflaps, and with an eye toward the rain and temperature plunge in the afternoon, I stuffed my fingerless wool gloves in my pockets and placed my handwarmer packets in my wader bib muff. I pulled my blue hand towel from my waders and stuffed it inside my wader tops for easy access. For casting I chose my Sage One five weight in  case I lucked into a larger fish or had to fight the wind.

I marched up the dirt road and cut down directly opposite the long pool with the large vertical boulders along the western bank, and I began my fly fishing day with a yellow size 8 fat Albert, an emerald caddis pupa and a size 22 sparkle wing RS2. I began in the midsection of the long pool and worked my way up to the head of the pool. When I cast along the current seam of the left most entering braid, the fat Albert plunged, and I reacted with a swift hook set. The trout on my line fought like a trophy, but fairly quickly I determined that I foul hooked a thirteen inch brown. Disappointment reigned, as I was forced to get my hands wet to release a foul hooked fish. The breeze quickly evaporated my wet hand, and I felt the dreaded stinging sensation of numbing cold. This was just the beginning. I reentered the pool between the head and midsection, and I began lobbing longer casts toward the faster and deeper main, entering current seam, and on one of these longer casts, a fish grabbed the trailing sparkle wing, as it began to swing. This fish was attached to my line briefly, before it turned its head and managed to spring free from the tiny size 22 hook.

Two other anglers arrived, while this action transpired, and they stopped to fish in the pockets just above the pool I occupied. I decided to move to the super big bend pool ahead of them, but when I entered the river to wade along the east bank to the flat rock casting platform, I spotted a flurry of subtle rises in the medium size pool just below the super version. I made some casts with the dry/dropper and activated jigs, jerks, and swings; but the trout were not interested in my subsurface offerings. I could not resist dry fly fishing, so I disassembled my dry/dropper rig, and I converted to a peacock hippie stomper trailing a CDC blue wing olive. For the next thirty minutes, while the sky darkened, and the wind accelerated, and I skipped lunch, I made a generous number of casts, and I managed to land the first two trout of the day. One was a brown trout, and one was a rainbow, and they resisted netting quite well. I also experienced a copious number of refusals and a few very brief connections. I switched to a soft hackle emerger for a bit hoping it would outperform the CDC BWO, but that was not the case.

The hatch was rather intense, but my fly was largely ignored except for the two outliers that I mentioned, so I seined the water with my stretch net. After an adequate time period of seining, I examined the results, and I found several small nymphs and a newly emerged adult. I snapped some photos, and this now confirmed that the impetus for the steady feeding was a baetis hatch.

As this scene unfolded, the two hopscotching anglers moved past me to the super pool, and I rued my decision to linger in the lower pool, but much to my surprise, they bypassed the main pool and progressed to the two braids above the bend. By the time I decided to move up the river, they departed and climbed the steep bank to the road. Based on the change in weather that was forthcoming, they may have made a wise decision.

I took advantage of my good fortune, and I advanced to the super bend pool, however, I crossed at the tail and approached from the northwest bank. During this time I paused to eat my sandwich and carrots, but I was so cold that I saved my yogurt cup for when I returned to the car. Once again the sky darkened and the wind gusted, and the trout on my side of the river began a gluttonous feeding spree. By now my hands were gnarled, and my feet and legs were developing rigor mortis, as the temperature began its downward spiral. Once again I succeeded in duping one very nice rainbow trout, but this success story was accompanied by three very brief hook ups. My fly was a close but not exact imitation, and, in fact, the rainbow grabbed the CDC BWO, as I twitched it before lifting to cast. Movement was clearly a trigger, but it was difficult to consistently emulate the fluttering of the tiny naturals.

I was curious to check out the other side of the pool, so I crossed at the tail and assumed my advantageous position on the flat rock. This offered the advantage of keeping my feet and legs out of the water. Unfortunately this move coincided with a brief break in the clouds, and although my comfort level zoomed, the fish paused their feeding.

After ten minutes of fruitless casting, I moved on to the narrow island and proceeded to the upstream tip. I paused to observe the flats below the steep bank, and in short order I noticed a small pod of trout sipping toward the middle of the area. I cautiously waded my half frozen feet to a position just below the sipping rises, and I began to cast upstream and then across. I did not experience any luck, but after a few minutes I created a minor tangle, and once I was free to resume, I noticed another angler above me along the left bank. I was not sure whether he arrived after me, or whether he was there first, so I exited and crossed and walked the opposite bank to a position above him, where his side of the river was bordered by a huge vertical rock. I was unable to spot rising fish, where I normally find them. Meanwhile the other young angler moved upstream away from the flats, and he shouted to me. I was unable to hear him at first, but eventually I comprehended that he was asking, if he could “throw” below me. I replied, “sure”. and I moved on.

I intended to check out the nice wide smooth pool above the next two bends, but when I moved to a spot, where I could see the pool, I found another fisherman claiming the pool. I decided to reverse to the super bend pool before that got claimed, but as I passed the flats I noted a nice pod of feeding fish. Since the other angler had moved upstream, I felt that I was sufficiently below him, and I also was now fairly certain that he arrived after me. I stopped to fish the flats.

For the next hour plus I executed a huge quantity of casts. There was a definite ebb and flow to the feeding. The sky was consistently dark, but it became even nastier from time to time, and during these periods the feeding frenzy became quite intense. My fly was largely ignored, but I did coax three momentary connections, and I hooked and landed three very respectable trout to raise my fish count to six. One of these fish was a very fine fourteen inch brown trout with large and vivid black spots. The last trout was a hard charging rainbow trout also in the fourteen inch range.

This time of angling success coincided with very adverse conditions for the human angler. My feet and hands ached. I pulled my coat zipper as high as it would go and tipped my raincoat hood around my hat. I alternated putting my hands in my wader bib muff to grasp the hand warmers, and I used the blue hand towel to absorb as much water from my skin as possible. In spite of these measures, my core sank to new levels of chill. At one point small snow pellets descended from the dark sky, and this coincided with the most ravenous feeding of the day. I fished on while pellets glanced off my head and hands and fly rod.

By 3:15PM I became concerned for my for my well being, so I stripped in my line and carefully waded back downstream to a crossing point and then climbed the hazardous steep and icy bank and returned to the car. It was a rare instance, when this devoted angler left the river, while plentiful bugs continued to hatch, and fish continued to gorge. That gives the reader some indication of how cold I was.

Although six fish in three and a half hours of fishing seems like a poor catch rate, I was quite pleased. The quality and size of the fish was exceptional, and I worked extremely hard for these fish. I am perplexed, however, with the lack of acceptance of my flies. I am giving serious thought to tying some new baetis flies including a parachute CDC dry fly and a nymph with an olive body and a more narrow profile. The photo of the nymph in this post is a good example of the lean form I intend to copy. The bugs and trout loved the nasty weather, but this angler did not. Hopefully I can find a warmer day with decent cloud cover for my next baetis hatch adventure.

Fish Landed: 6

For the next hour I fi,

Time: 11:30AM – 4:00PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/15/2024 Photo Album

The hallmark of outstanding blue wing olive action is nasty weather, and Monday, April 15 was one of those days. I wrapped up our federal and state taxes on Saturday, and I decided to reward myself with a day of fly fishing. I was disgusted with my last visit to Eleven Mile Canyon on 04/03/2024, so I decided to seek redemption. There was some risk to this decision, however, as the weather app forecast wind speeds of 14 to 17 MPH during most of the time I expected to be on the water. The high temperature was projected in the mid fifties, and cloudy skies were predicted to roll in during the afternoon. The cloud cover clinched it, and I accepted the wind risk and made the two plus hour drive to Eleven Mile.

When I reviewed the dashboard thermometer upon my arrival, the temperature registered 54 degrees, and dried grass and riverside vegetation flapped in the regular gusts. I bypassed my long sleeve Brooks undershirt, but I slipped on my North Face light down and covered it with my gray rain shell as a windbreaker. With the possibility of larger than average fish, I assembled my Sage One five weight, and I departed along the dirt road that borders the river in the canyon. After .2 mile I found a reasonably negotiable trail over hard packed snow and descended to the river. I began my day with a yellow size 8 fat Albert, 20 incher, and a supernova baetis nymph. After a solid test period with no action, I exchanged the supernova for a sparkle wing RS2. I covered some very attractive water in the thirty minutes before lunch as well as the first hour afterward with no evidence of trout other than a couple very sporadic slashing rises near my starting point. I was convinced that I was on track for a repeat of April 04/03/2024.

Between 1:00 and 1:30PM I fished the long pool next to the high rock wall on the western bank. I ate lunch next to this section and carefully scanned the water for signs of a blue wing olive hatch, but none appeared. I probed the seams along the deep entering runs and then covered the midsection by dead drifting the nymphs with a sweeping swing at the end. Nothing. I was actually surprised to have the entire pool to myself, but the lack of action may have explained that circumstance.

I moved on and tossed a few casts into some marginal deep pockets along the left bank with no success, and then I skipped another deep run and pool and approached the super big bend pool. I was certain that there were abundant fish in the pool, so a lack of action could only be explained by fly choice or lack of appetite among the fish.

I perched on the nice flat rock that serves as a convenient casting platform along the left bank, and sure enough, I spotted many trout (and suckers) finning in the slow moving deep pool above and next to my position. I observed for a bit, and as I did so, several of the trout that hovered within the upper two feet rose and sipped something small from the surface. I began casting my dry/dropper, and I imparted various types of movements to my drifts including jigging, lifting and swinging; but the targets ignored my efforts and continued to occasionally feed. As time transpired, the frequency of surface rises increased, and I finally decided to commit to a dry fly presentation.

I removed the dry/dropper configuration and added a two foot extension of 5X tippet to my leader, and then I knotted a CDC blue winged olive to my line. The tiny wisp of a fly was difficult to track, but I managed to land three nice trout, two rainbows and a brown in the twelve to thirteen inch range, on the CDC BWO. This was by no means an easy achievement, as I experienced twenty unproductive drifts for each instance, where a fish ate my fly.

The fish in my vicinity seemed to grow wise to my presence, so I moved upstream to another large exposed rock right below the entry of the eastern braid of the river. A large eddy swirled the entering current, and several fish were facing downstream to intercept natural morsels as they swirled by an exposed rock. I switched from the CDC BWO to a soft hackle emerger, and I applied a heavy dose of floatant to the body of the emerger. This change in tactics paid dividends, when I hooked and landed a nice rainbow trout from the area where the current from the east braid met the main river current. As I rested my rod on the large rock to release my catch, I noticed that the slow water along the bank was blanketed with small blue wing olive cripples.

I pursued the super pool for a bit longer, but the sun came out and the rising fish ceased to appear, so I decided to advance up the river beyond the small narrow island that split the river into the east and west branches. When I reached the tip of the island, I slowly waded through the shallow water in the middle of the river and scanned the smooth left channel for signs of feeding fish. After a cautious approach, I was next to the faster moving upper section that fanned out into a nice smooth pool, and a few rises manifested themselves.

I returned to a size 22 CDC blue wing olive, and I began fluttering casts to the middle and far side of the river, but the fish ignored my olive tuft. After quite a few casts, I finally induced a take and landed a nice twelve inch brown trout. I remained in this area from 2:00PM, until I quit at 4:00 PM, and I added three more spunky fighters to my fish count. A fourteen inch brown trout with dark black ink spots was the prize of this time period. During this two hour window the sky darkened and the wind kicked up for long stretches, and these bits of nasty weather provoked some fairly intense feeding from the river residents. I executed hundreds of casts and toggled between the CDC olive and the soft hackle emerger, as I attempted to discover the fly that would induce confident takes. I never really found it, but I did experience six temporary connections, when the trout was barely pricked by my hook point. This indicated to me that my fly was very close to the natural, but something was slightly off. I should add that I added a hippie stomper as the forward fly in a two dry fly arrangement near the outset of the 2-4 hour time frame. Perhaps the one foot leader from the stomper to the baetis imitation was restricting movement a bit, and thus the timid takes and refusals?

As this madness unfolded, I became a very chilled human being. My feet were the worst, and they morphed into icy stumps. The wind blasted frequently, and I pulled my buff up over my ears, and that helped, but the stiffness and cold of my feet and legs progressed upward to my core. Fortunately the sight of ravenously feeding fish allowed me to focus my mind away from discomfort and on to the task of fooling fish.

Finally by 3:45PM I could no longer withstand the cold and wind, so I stripped in my line and hooked the CDC BWO to my rod guide. I traversed the narrow island, crossed to the east bank and climbed a treacherous steep bank to return to the Telluride. The temperature on the dashboard, as I drove north on the access road was 51 degrees. What happened to the high in the mid fifties? It actually got colder as the afternoon progressed, and that does not even address the wind chill.

When the sky darkened and the wind accelerated, the fish feasted. I endured the weather, and my reward was the most intense dry fly fishing of the season thus far. I admit that I was disappointed with the high number of drop offs, but I cannot complain about the long and steady hatch and the hot action between 1:30 and 4:00PM. A longer 5X leader from the indicator dry to the baetis imitation may be the answer to more consistent takes. Hopefully I will get another near term opportunity to test this theory.

Fish Landed: 8

Time: 11:00AM – 3:15PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/03/2024 Photo Album

Highs in the upper 60’s in Denver, CO prompted me to search for a fishing destination on Wednesday, April 3, 2024. After some blue winged olive action on the Arkansas River on my last trip, I decided to investigate the presence of olives on the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon. Historically I experienced some fabulous days in early April on that tailwater river. I invited my young fishing companion, Nate, to join me on his weekday off; and he accepted.

We met at a park and ride along I25, and we arrived in Eleven Mile by 10:30AM. We had to stop in Florissant at a convenience store to break a ten dollar bill in order to have the $4.50 in cash to pay the senior day use fee. The temperature upon our arrival was around 45 degrees with a moderate breeze, so I layered up with my Columbia long sleeved undershirt, fleece hoodie, North Face light down and rain shell along with my billed hat with ear flaps. I felt like a stuffed sausage, as I assembled my Sage One five weight for a day on the river.

Nate and I hiked up the road a bit and then found a steep and snowy quasi-path to the river. I took extremely small steps and attempted to dig in my studded wading boots to avoid injury at the outset of our day. When we arrived at the river, we post-holed a bit in order to enter the water. The flows were tumbling along at 135 CFS, which is a bit higher than I favor, but the clarity was excellent, and I was certain that a blue winged olive hatch would eventually bring the trout to the surface.

To start my day I rigged with a New Zealand strike indicator, split shot, beadhead hares ear nymph and sparkle wing RS2, but during the one hour morning session I was only able to generate a momentary hook up with a rainbow trout, as I lifted my flies above a depression in slow water. I could see two decent trout finning in the hole over a light sand bottom, so I was sight fishing, when the connection occurred.

Two anglers occupied one of our favorite large pools, so after lunch on a sunny rock we skipped around them and proceeded up the river. Ultimately we hoped to occupy the productive bend pool below the split braids, but a fisherman jumped in ahead of us, so we prospected the pool below that with no positive results.

Injured Bird

The fisherman above us departed after a short amount of time, and he politely waved us on, so we complied with his suggestion and moved to one of our favorite spots in Eleven Mile Canyon. Nate waded across the river and commandeered the same rock that was recently the perch of the departing angler, and I moved up along the west bank to the riffles at the top of the pool.

We pounded this area for an hour and a half, and Nate enjoyed success with an olive body RS2. He landed a fifteen inch rainbow near the entry point of the eastern most braid above the pool, and he landed a second fish, when he returned to his favorite rock perch.

I, meanwhile, experienced nothing but frustration. My chartreuse strike indicator disappeared at one point, and this forced me to devote time to replacing it. Apparently the transparent plastic sleeve that locks the wool tuft in the loop split and fell off during casting. At a later point Nate asked if my strike indicator was on the bank below me, and sure enough I was able to recover the wool clump for future use.

For flies I cycled through quite an array of favorites. I tested my olive perdigon, classic RS2, sparkle wing RS2, soft hackle emerger, ultra zug bug, salvation nymph, and emerald caddis pupa. When Nate reported success with the olive RS2, I experimented with three small green and olive colored nymphs in my fleece wallet, but none of them produced. I did manage another split second connection, as the nymphs swept across the center of the pool, and I suspect the attractor was the classic RS2 that was on my line at the time along with one of the larger nymphs.

By 2:30 my frustration reached a new level, and Nate was catching a few fish on the dry/dropper, so I transitioned from indicator nymphing to dry/dropper. I used a yellow size 8 fat Albert, and I trailed a salvation nymph and a sparkle wing RS2, as I progressed upstream from the big bend pool, while Nate remained on his large rock perch below the pod of trout and suckers.

I quickly covered the north channel with no sign of trout, until I approached the glassy, smooth pool along the steep bank that drops from the access road. I paused to observe, and while a large cloud blocked the sun, I spotted three rises in the slow moving water along the far bank, so I decided to commit to a double dry approach that entailed a hippie stomper trailing a CDC blue winged olive. By the time I completed my transition, the sun reappeared, and the feeding fish were reduced to one hungry trout directly across from me. A glare made identifying the landing spot of the flies difficult, but I covered the far edge with a barrage of casts. It was very difficult to achieve a dead drift for more than three or four feet, but I did manage a swirl to the one of the flies, as it began to drag across the current. After fifteen minutes of futility, the surface feeding halted, so I once again migrated upstream, but without rising fish, my double dry set up seemed futile.

We needed to depart by 3:30PM, so at 3:00PM we reversed our direction back to the large bend pool. I stole Nate’s favorite rock, and I could see the large swarm of nice fish in the depression nearby, but the trout were not rising and probably feeding near the bottom. My double dry was not the correct offering; however, I gave it an honest effort, before I called it quits at 3:15PM and climbed the steep and icy path back to the road.

I suspect this was my first skunking at Eleven Mile amongst many very productive visits, so I will not allow a tough day to deter me from future trips. I experienced two very brief hook ups in 3.5 hours of fishing. I observed only a handful of naturals on the water, and I suspect that explains the lack of action. Nate’s success with the olive RS2 will motivate me to tie some for future consumption. Intermittent sun raised the afternoon temperature to the low fifties, so I was relatively comfortable on an early spring day on the South Platte River. I was outdoors in Colorado, and that alone, made the day a success.

Fish Landed: 0