Beaver Creek – 08/11/2023

TIme: 11:30AM – 3:30PM

Location: National forest

Note: In order to protect small high country streams, I have chosen to change the name for a few. This particular creek happens to be one of them. Hopefully the readers will agree that excessive exposure could lead to crowding and lower fish densities.

Beaver Creek 08/11/2023 Photo Album

Jane and I drove from Denver to the trailhead and arrived at a parking space by 10:45AM. By the time I geared up and assembled my Orvis Access four weight, it was 11:00AM, and a short hike placed me in a position to fish by 11:30AM.  Daughter, Amy, met us at the trailhead, and she and Chara and Jane hiked to the creek with me.

Beautiful Start

I started my quest for trout with a peacock hippie stomper and a gray stimulator, but other than a few splashy refusals, I was unable to generate any interest. I swapped the stimulator for a salvation nymph, and this tandem was ignored more than the previous pair of flies. Just before lunch at 12:30PM I switched the salvation for a size 14 light gray deer hair caddis, and the move paid dividends, when I landed a seven inch brook trout that was sporting a bright orange belly. I was baffled by my lack of success on the same creek that surprised me with both quantities of trout and quality trout eleven months ago.

Number One, a Brook Trout

After lunch I progressed steadily upstream, and I tossed the stomper and caddis to all the likely trout holding locations, and finally I enjoyed some success in the form of two brown trout in the eleven to twelve inch range. Wading was challenging among the large, slippery yellow-white rocks, and small cascades and fallen logs added to the difficulty.


Nice Deep Run

By 1:30PM I arrived at a spot with a gradual beach, and sitting on the rocks ahead of me were Chara, Amy and Jane. We snapped photos of each other, and as I moved above them, I landed two small browns to boost the fish count to five. We said our goodbyes, and I continued on through a canyon environment with steep banks on both sides of the creek.

Handsome Brown

Jane and Amy

Between 1:30PM and 3:30PM I increased the fish count from five to thirteen. This time period represented the most steady action of the day. The caddis was not generating interest, so I exchanged it for a size 14 parachute green drake, and the stomper/drake combination provided the best results of the day. All the afternoon fish were browns, and several stretched the tape measure to twelve inches. The stomper and drake split the catch evenly.


What a Pool!

By 3:00PM I approached a deep plunge pool with three likely target areas for casting. I managed to land a trout from the deep, slow shelf pool on the right hand side. I decided to shift my position to reach one of the small side pools on the opposite shore, but my left foot slipped on an angled rock, and it never found a stopping point, until I lost my balance and fell backward in the deep pool. The water rushed over the top of my waders, and I gasped as the cold liquid spread down my legs to my feet. I scrambled to my feet quickly, but it was too late to avoid the ignominy of a cold creek baptism. I remained in one piece with no broken parts except for my pride.

Poised to Explode

What now? It was a rather warm day, so once my body adjusted, the cool wetness actually felt pretty good, although the saturated socks and sloshing stocking foot wader feet were an impediment to continuation. I found a large, dry rock and removed all my gear including my waders. I dumped what water I could from the waders and then suited up for more action.

Ooh. Screams Trout.

The wading became more challenging with some large spillovers and log jams, and the canyon walls became quite steep. I added a couple more trout to the count to reach thirteen, at which point I spotted a steep, worn path to the trail. It was 3:30PM, and some overhead clouds created a slight chill in my soaked body, so I took advantage of the exit route and called it a day.

Friday was a bit disappointing, as my results lagged September 2, 2022 both in quantity and quality. My largest fish was twelve inches, and I never felt a rhythm or a feeling of confidence. Nevertheless, thirteen wild fish landed in a spectacular environment was a valued experience for this avid fly fisherman. I have not given up on this stream and may return later in the season.

Fish Landed: 13