Time: 11:15AM – 2:45PM

Location: National Forest land near Minturn

Cross Creek 07/22/2024 Photo Album

I finally pulled together everything necessary to visit a new stream. I was headed to this particular creek, when I was forced to postpone due to a screw in my tire. On Monday I was not victimized by any auto issues, although I was delayed by a flagman within four miles of my destination due to highway construction.

After a relatively rough drive of a mile on a dirt road, I arrived at the trailhead; and, of course, in spite of it being a weekday, all the spots in the lots were full. I negotiated a turnaround and parked along the shoulder downhill from the parking lots. The temperature was in the upper sixties, and I fit together my Loomis two piece five weight for the day’s action.

As I prepared to fish, another car arrived, and the solo occupant began chatting with me. He was also planning to fish, as he tossed waders into his daypack. He suggested that I was a bad ass, because I was hiking in my waders. I took this as a compliment, and I stopped next to him on my way to the trailhead. We were both ready at the same time, and he had fished the creek previously, so we made the hike together. I was pleased to accompany someone, who knew their way around. My new acquaintance’s name was Judge, and he was a retired airline pilot from Georgia. We shared much more information on our inbound hike, but for the sake of privacy, I will omit it from this blog entry.

Best Pool I Saw

Eventually we reached a place where some large elevated rocks overlooked a stunningly attractive pool. Judge was familiar with this obvious fish hole, but he insisted that I fish it first, since he needed to put on his waders and assemble his rod. I reluctantly acquiesced, and I carefully slid down the curved boulder and entered the stream. I began with a peacock hippie stomper solo, and I blasted out some long casts to the slow moving lower section. My casts were rather exemplary, if I may brag a bit, but they generated no interest. I slowly edged my way to the sweet spot below a beaver dam, but nary a trout even looked at my fly. How could this be? Maybe the trout were looking for food beneath the surface? I paused to add an eighteen inch dropper and attached a beadhead hares ear nymph. I lobbed ten casts along the current seam that curled next to the rock along the opposite bank. I was perplexed by my lack of success, and I surrendered. Judge watched me for awhile and then disappeared.

Productive Spot

The obvious trout honey hole looked like it hosted a lot of traffic, perhaps anglers and swimmers, so I attributed my absence of success to pressure. I decided to move upstream, but the large beaver pond looked like a dicey wading enterprise, so I attempted to hike around it, but I got stuck in a tough section of forest with dense deadfalls and thickets that grabbed my fly line and limbs at every turn. Eventually I stumbled across a faint path that aided my progress and led me back to the creek above the beaver pond.

I maneuvered myself into the creek, so that I was able to cover some nice pockets and shelf pools, and I landed three brook trout including a stunning ten incher. The first two snatched the hares ear, but the largest of the three smacked the hippie stomper. The counted fish were accompanied by several sub-six inch dinks, and this trend would continue throughout the day.

Lower Gradient Section

I was contemplating lunch, when Judge reappeared. He was now in his waders, and he was in the process of switching his tapered leader, as it remained configured for Euro nymphing. Judge suggested a nice cleared area for lunch, and I joined him. After lunch we split. I continued upstream, while he intended to move back down. I suspect he had his sights set on the initial pool that failed to deliver for me.

Decent

From 12:15 until 2:45 I worked my way upstream, and I boosted the fish count from three to sixteen. I probably had ten or more dinks that did not reach my arbitrary six inch minimum. Fifteen of the landed trout were brookies, and I was fortunate to net one gorgeous cutthroat of nine inches.

Shimmering

I covered .6 mile of the stream, and this was quite an accomplishment. Cross Creek crashed downhill at an alarming rate, and I moved around two waterfalls and numerous whitewater cascades. Steep banks and tight walls made wading akin to a gymnastics session. I sought only the slow moving and deep pools and pockets, where fish could seek refuge among the thunderous, crashing water volume.

Rare Shelf Pools

Wild Roses

After .4 mile I reached the bridge, where the main trail crossed the creek. I looked upstream at the unending whitewater plumes through the narrow canyon, and I realized that, if I continued, I might be forced to retrace my steps in order to exit. I decided to give it a cautious try. I progressed another .25 mile, and amazingly the gradient increased beyond that which I endured earlier. The catch rate waned, and my fear of the crashing water and my presence in a remote wilderness environment superseded my desire to catch fish.

One Cutthroat Among Many Brook Trout

Cutthroat Came from Deep Along the Whitewater Seam

I mounted a ridge of large round topped boulders and slowly worked my way back to the main trail and eventually visited my Telluride. There I discovered a hand printed note from Judge, who landed thirty fish. He attached the foam body yellow Sally that generated the success as well a new one to contrast the damage absorbed by his workhorse fly, I wonder if his fish came from the monster pool that skunked me?

I am pleased that I explored Cross Creek. The weather was perfect, and I landed sixteen wild jewels. I am not sure, however, whether I will return. The effort of the hike and rock and log scrambling did not justify the small brook trout that landed in my net. Perhaps the high gradient stream is more productive at lower flows. I will keep Cross Creek in mind for future trips, but I suspect there are better options when other streams are low as well.

Fish Landed: 16

Time: 3:45PM – 5:00PM

Location: Upper river south of Minturn

Eagle River 07/22/2024 Photo Album

As I slowly bounced down the pot holed dirt road after fishing Cross Creek, I decided to experiment with the upper Eagle River south of Minturn. I found a nice wide pullout, and I remained in my waders with my fly rod already strung, so I charged immediately down a path to the river and began casting. The hippie stomper from earlier remained on my line, and it trailed a size 16 light gray comparadun.

Seam Along Whitewater Produced a Nice Brown Trout

Nice Catch after All the Small Brook Trout

Another Nice Catch

In the early going the comparadun duped an eight inch brown trout in some moderate riffles, but I also endured quite a few refusals to the stomper and the comparadun. I replaced the comparadun with a size 16 light gray deer hair caddis. These two flies clicked with the trout, and I progressed along the left bank and landed five additional brown trout including a surprise thirteen incher and a respectable twelve inch fish. All the trout materialized from slow and deep water tight to the bank or exposed rocks. By 5PM I reached a narrow section with fast chutes and tumbling pockets, so I retreated to a location somewhat upstream from my original crossing point and moved back to the roadside bank.

Marginal Bank Pocket Produced a Surprisingly Large Fish

Another Typical Productive Pocket

I was pleased with the results  of my 1.5 hours of fishing on the upper Eagle River. All the brown trout except the first were larger than my largest brook trout on Cross Creek.

Fish Landed: 6

Time: 11:00AM – 4:00PM

Location: Between Avon and Eagle, Colorado

Eagle River 07/09/2024 Photo Album

My camping experience launched with a tough start, when I was unable to screw the regulator from the camp stove into the neck of the propane canisters. I tried four different containers with the same result, and my wrist and fingers were on the brink of injury as a result of all the pushing and twisting. I was forced to drive back to Minturn for a BBQ dinner at the Kirby Cosmos eatery, so glamping was gradually replacing camping. Surely my one night camping outing could not get any worse.

I returned to my campsite at Hornsilver after dinner, and recorded my fishing notes and read for a bit, before I crashed in my REI two-person tent. I was situated in a great position to get an early start on the Eagle River once again on Tuesday. My day on Monday was decent, so I decided to return to the same general area, but to begin my fishing venture farther upriver, thus, allowing me to overlap with the most productive section yet provide for farther advancement.

Hornsilver Camping Setup

I woke up at 6:30AM, but I remained in the tent in my comfortable sleeping bag until 7:00AM. When I stepped outside, I was immediately shocked by the cold temperature. I quickly wrapped myself in my heavy down parka, which I very nearly left behind. Of course, I was without a functioning camp stove, and this eliminated my ability to heat water for my usual mug of black tea. It also precluded hot oatmeal for breakfast, or the ability to wash my face with warm water.

Frost on the Tablecloth

I decided to begin preparing my sandwich for lunch, and at this point I discovered a thin film of frost on the the tablecloth as well as a coating on the rain fly of the tent. Apparently the temperature at Hornsilver dipped to freezing at the high elevation. I decided to wait a bit, until the air temperature elevated, but after fifteen minutes, I concluded I was wasting time and proceeded with the steps of sandwich construction. I placed two slices of bread on a paper towel and applied my favorite spread. At this point my hands began to ache, and I stuffed them into my parka pockets and blew on them for warmth. I was forced to go through this regimen with each step of building my sandwich, and it took a ridiculous amount of time to make one lunch item. Did I mention that, in the midst of the sandwich preparation, the mustard exploded from the squeeze bottle due to the high elevation and change in pressure?

Next I proceeded with the chore of breaking camp, and of course the sun remained sequestered behind the ridge to the east, and the air temperature dwelled in the thirties. Eventually I took down the wet tent and rainfly and rolled them up in the back of the car to dry out later. For breakfast I downed a yogurt cup and granola bar, but I almost broke my teeth on the frozen brick of a fruit and nut snack. Finally I was on my way, but was I? I had to stop two times on my way down Battle Mountain Pass for single lane road construction crews. I was aching for my standard cup of black tea, so I stopped at the Sunrise Cafe in Minturn only to discover that the only black tea on the menu was Earl Gray. I dislike Earl Gray, so I exited with the thought of stopping in Avon or Edwards.

When I reached the entrance to interstate 70 west, I was alerted to the fact that the on ramp was closed, and I had to detour east to the West Vail exit where I completed a U-turn to continue on my way to my chosen fly fishing destination. I looked at my watch and realized that I was on track to start fishing barely a half hour earlier than on Monday, when I packed the car and traveled all the way from Denver. So much for camping near the river. I abandoned all thoughts of tea and proceeded directly to the river.

Flows Remained High on Tuesday

OK, back to fly fishing. The temperature was in the low seventies, as I prepared to fish, and the sun was beating down relentlessly with no clouds in the sky. I sensed that Tuesday would be a difficult day. Flows were in the 700 CFS range, so the river was still high and cold to offset the warming impact of the sun’s rays, and that provided an element of hope. I hiked down to the river following Monday’s path, but I stopped short of my starting point of the previous day. To began my foray into edge fishing I tied an amber ice dub body chubby Chernobyl to my line and then added a beadhead hares ear to imitate yellow sally nymphs and an olive-black Pat’s rubber legs for weight and depth. As I suspected, I began casting at 11:00AM merely thirty minutes sooner than on Monday after packing the car for camping and fishing and driving from Denver. In the hour before lunch I managed two temporary connections with decent fish, but that was the extent of my success in spite of prospecting some very attractive pockets and riffles of moderate depth.

Early Catch

I ate my lunch by the river bank and observed, and yellow sallies dominated the sky, although the density of the hatch was far more sparse than that which I viewed on Monday. After lunch I removed the rubber legs and replaced it with an emerald caddis pupa and moved the hares ear to the end position. A few caddis flitted about among the willows, so I played the hunch that a caddis pupa might be the ticket. It worked temporarily, when I landed a nice, chunky thirteen inch rainbow, and that was bracketed by a pair of eleven inch fish that snatched the hares ear. One was a rainbow and one was a brown trout.

Talon Scarred Rainbow Trout

I moved along at a fairly rapid pace and hit the promising spots, but other than another small rainbow, my efforts were thwarted. By 2:00PM I began to suspect that the lower river was not going to produce, but I made a last ditch effort to salvage some action, and I swapped the caddis pupa for an iron sally. In a nice angled shelf pool the chubby dipped, and I found myself attached to an angry sixteen inch rainbow. It thrashed and splashed, but eventually I slid my net beneath it, and I thought it was the same fish I landed on Monday from the same location. Once I reviewed the photos, I realized it was a different rainbow with a talon mark in a different spot.

I moved on and skipped around a wide and marginal section and arrived at the nice moderate riffle area, where I ended my day on Monday. I tossed an abundant quantity of casts and covered all the lanes thoroughly, but I was not rewarded for my efficiency. Once again I progressed up the river, and in a deep pocket next to a fallen log I hooked and landed an eleven inch brown trout, and that ended my day on that section of the Eagle River.

I returned to the car, and as I did so, some large, dark clouds were shifting into position to the west. I decided to test another section of the river farther upstream closer to the headwaters with a narrower riverbed, more pockets for aeration, and more trees to provide shade. By the time I drove the extra miles and parked and hiked to my starting spot, it was 2:45PM, and the clouds were nearly above me, so I pulled on my rain jacket. I immediately approached a series of pockets that I favor, and I made a few casts with the dry/dropper that remained on my line, but success remained elusive.

New Location, Nice Brown Trout

Pockets Galore

I decided to cast my fortunes to a dry fly approach, so I removed all the dry/dropper flies and switched to a peacock body hippie stomper trailing a size 16 light gray caddis on a twelve inch dropper. Bingo! Success was instant. Over the next hour I progressed through the fifty yard section of pocket water and boosted the fish count from six to eighteen. Six of the twelve trout were small browns in the eight to ten inch range, but the other half dozen included a much appreciated rainbow of fifteen inches and a pair of brown trout in the thirteen inch range. The others were respectable browns and rainbows in the twelve inch bracket.

Surprise Catch

Between Middle of Three Exposed Rocks and Rock on Far Right

In one very attractive pocket I spotted two decent trout; one at the lip and the other toward the middle. I attempted to interest the one at the lip, but it was sullen and did not move, but the one higher up was definitely in feeding mode, and I managed a few looks but no takes. I began swapping out the trailing fly, and I moved through a cinnamon comparadun and an olive-brown body size 16 caddis, but neither flies changed the fish’s unwillingness to feed on my offerings.

Required a Fly Change

I moved on to the next deep pocket which was similar in dimensions and depth, and once again I spotted a large fish stationed at the lip of the pool. It also feigned indifference, so I exchanged the olive-brown caddis for a size 16 light gray comparadun. On the fifth drift, the targeted trout snatched the comparadun, and the fight commenced. I was fortunate enough to land the prize fifteen inch slab for what proved to be the prize of the day.

Deep Slot

Bravo

Large Deep Pocket

Tuesday was almost an exact replay of my day a year ago with my friend, Nate. We began early in the same spot, encountered challenging fishing and then defaulted to the upper river, where we met with some fast action late in the afternoon. I’m done with the lower Eagle for the summer, but a return to the upper section is certainly a consideration over the remainder of July.

Fish Landed: 18

Time: 11:30AM – 4:00PM

Location: West of Wolcott

Eagle River 07/08/2024 Photo Album

I was mostly over my cold, and with the Fourth of July week in the rear view mirror, I decided to do my first fly fishing/camping venture of the year. I departed Denver by 8:30AM, and this enabled me to reach my chosen destination on the Eagle River by 10:45AM.

The dashboard registered 72 degrees and the flows were in the 700 -800 CFS range. I love edge fishing the Eagle River, and the conditions were nearly perfect for that approach. For the most part I confined my casts to the twenty feet of river that bordered the left bank. The rest of the river except for the unreachable opposite bank was too fast to hold fish, so they were stacked up in the twenty foot ribbon of water. Pockets, eddies and moderate riffles with slow velocity and decent depth were my target for 4.5 hours on the river.

Starting Point

700 – 800 CFS

I began with a size 8 yellow fat Albert, an iron sally and a salvation nymph; and I covered quite a bit of water, before a chunky thirteen inch rainbow grabbed the iron sally. Most of the spots in the morning stretch were rather marginal, so I stuck with my lineup of flies, until I resumed after lunch.

Early Catch

Submerged Willows

Much Appreciated Brown Trout

During lunch along the river, I witnessed a fairly dense emergence of yellow sallies, so I swapped the salvation (PMD nymph) for a beadhead hares ear (yellow sally nymph). The move paid dividends, as the fish count mounted from one to twelve by 3:30PM. The yellow sallies definitely dominated the scene, but I also observed some size 18 caddis and a few pale morning duns. Most of the trout during this run grabbed the hares ear with perhaps two favoring the iron sally. This was by no means torrid fishing action, as the level of success required constant movement and an abundance of casting. Some attractive spots failed to produce, while other marginal locations provided a surprise.

Fighting Bow

Deep Trough

Pink Stripe

On the day I tallied thirteen landed trout, and two were browns with the remainder rainbows. Five of the final count were quite small, but the remaining eight were hard-fighting, chunky trout. Among the larger fish was a fifteen inch brown trout and three prize rainbows in the fifteen to sixteen inch range.

Talon Wound Obvious

Home of Talon Wound Rainbow

This brings me to number thirteen. I was near quitting time, and I was still fishing the dry/dropper, when I arrived at the spot, where the river widens, and there is a nice wide moderate depth riffle. I made some exploratory casts with the dry/dropper, but I experienced no luck, but I spotted a decent sized nose poking up two times to eat something. I removed the dry/dropper and shifted to a solo yellow sally dry fly. The fish refused the yellow sally, so I swapped it for a size 16 light gray comparadun, and a gorgeous sixteen inch rainbow sipped it confidently. What a way to end my day, and I love moments like that.

Home of Comparadun Sipper

Fish of the Day

Monday was a fun day. in addition to the thirteen landed trout, I tangled with three additional hot fish that managed to shed the fly. I played them long enough to realize that they were worthy of my deep regret.

I found a campsite at Hornsilver Campground for Monday night, but I was unable to connect the propane canister to the camp stove regulator, so I drove back to Kirby Cosmos in Minturn for a BBQ dinner. I suppose I can now claim that I was glamping and not camping.  A revisit to the Eagle River on Tuesday before returning to Denver is in the plans.

Fish Landed: 13