Time: 10:00AM – 3:30PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/19/2017 Photo Album

Of course four letter words are common among fly fishermen particularly after losing a monster fish or after breaking off three flies on an overhanging tree branch. But another word that is relatively benign in common usage takes on the characteristics of the established four letter words in the broader English vernacular when applied to fly fishing. That word is wind, and wind was the overriding theme for our fly fishing adventure on Wednesday, April 19.

My friend Steve and I set out from Lone Tree at 7:30 on Wednesday morning with visions of a repeat of our successful trip the previous Thursday, when we fished from 12:30 until 4:00 to ravenously hungry trout on the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon. High clouds blocked the sun and created conditions conducive to a sustained baetis hatch on that date, and Steve and I took advantage of the feeding frenzy.

We arrived at the parking lot at the first bridge below the dam at 9:30, and we were in our waders and on the river fishing by ten o’clock. After I lathered up with sunscreen, I attempted to open the driver’s side door, but the gale force wind made me lower my shoulder and push with exceptional force to combat the gusts. This was an ominous harbinger of what was in our future. After I pulled on my waders, I assembled my Sage four weight rod, and I wandered across the dirt road along with Steve to inspect the wide but relatively shallow pool that entertained us for most of the afternoon on April 13.

The area upstream from the bridge was empty, so Steve took his position next to the prime water fifteen yards above the bridge, and I migrated a bit farther upstream to a nice deep run that passed along some large rocks on the opposite bank. It was too early for dry flies, so I rigged with a strike indicator, split shot, beadhead hares ear, and RS2; and I executed a large number of drifts through the very attractive deep run. After half an hour of this futile activity my only accomplishment was to remove a decent amount of moss from the river rocks, as it accumulated on my bottom dredging nymphs.

I turned the corner and discovered a quartet of fishermen spread over the next forty yards, so I reversed my direction and crossed the road and surveyed the river below the bridge. Since I was rigged with a nymphing configuration, I decided to probe the nice deep runs immediately below the four culverts that carried the river beneath the bridge, but once again my efforts to land a fish were stymied. I saw fish hovering and moving from side to side in a manner that normally indicates feeding, so I concluded that they were grabbing small nymphs or emergers from the drift. I cycled through a soft hackle emerger and salad spinner with no impact on my lagging fish count. Pat Dorsey indicated on an Instagram post that he was having luck with stoneflies, so I replaced the salad spinner with a size 12 peacock stonefly imitation, and finally I witnessed a deep dive in my indicator. I set the hook and immediately felt the power of a fat streaking fish, but eventually I fell back into a demoralized state, when I netted the beautiful sixteen inch rainbow trout and discovered that it was hooked in one of the fins.

It was now 11AM, and my confidence reached a new low, as I pondered my next move. I decided to cross the bridge and fish the opposite side and then explore the stretch of water downstream to the next bend. The area was strangely vacant, so it was a good opportunity to take advantage. Just below the fast moving runs and riffle below the bridge there was a large round depression with a light sand bottom, and these conditions made it easy to spot five large trout, as they held in the current and intercepted subsurface food morsels. I executed some dead drifts and swings through the deep hole, but the fish maintained their feeding rhythm with no apparent recognition of my offerings. My frustration mounted, as I shifted my attention downstream to a nice long section of relatively smooth slow moving water of moderate depth.

The clock ticked toward 11:30, and I noticed several sporadic rises twelve to eighteen inches out from the high bank on the other side of the river. At least now I saw some targets to pursue, and this renewed my focus after halfheartedly lobbing nymphs for the first 1.5 hours. I removed the nymphing paraphernalia and tied a size 18 CDC BWO to my line. During this entire morning period the wind continued to gust in an unrelenting manner, and as I evaluated the challenge ahead of me, it once again announced its strong presence. In order to tempt the bank feeders I needed to launch a relatively long cast across the current to within a foot of the bank, and then allow the tiny barely visible fly to drift downstream without drag, until it passed over the uppermost feeder. While doing this I needed to combat the strong wind that was rushing directly downstream.

For the next fifteen minutes I endeavored to conquer the difficult challenge, but I must report that I was not equal to the task. Reach casts and mends were thwarted by the blasts of chilly air. I may have completed one or two decent drifts over the sporadic feeders, but they were not fooled by my efforts. In a fit of frustration and despair I reeled up my line and returned to the car at 11:45. Along the way I checked in with Steve, and he reported landing three nice fish, two on a RS2 and one on a prince nymph. He was not ready for lunch, so I returned to the car and sought shelter from the ever present wind.  At least I now knew that catching South Platte fish on a blustery day was possible.

After lunch I pulled my raincoat over my light down coat to serve as a windbreaker. I considered resuming my position on the opposite side of the river from Steve similar to the previous Thursday afternoon, but when I stood on the bridge, I learned that a pair of fishermen were below Steve and another was pinching him from above. I surrendered the idea of fishing above the bridge and circled back to the car to consider other options. I remembered the bank feeders and decided to approach them from the high bank on the same side of the river as the parking lot. I made a short walk on a worn trail and then slid down a dirt path to the water. The bank feeders were no longer active, but as I gazed upstream I spotted a nice feeding fish in shallow water next to the point of an exposed rock anchored to the bank. As I watched the trout, it casually rose and sipped tiny morsels as they drifted overhead.

I was fearful that I would line the fish if I cast directly over it, so I sprayed some casts to other visible fish farther out in the river, but they were hovering beneath the surface and focused on emergers or nymphs in the underwater drift. As this was transpiring, Steve relinquished his pool to the upstream invaders, and he returned to the car to grab a quick lunch. I returned to the parking area to unlock the Santa Fe.  After lunch Steve pulled on a raincoat as a windbreaker, and then he crossed the bridge and approached the river from the opposite side. I was now upstream of the regular sipper, so I decided to attempt some downstream drifts. I persisted at this approach for twenty minutes, but the wily feeder avoided my fraud and continued to sip naturals in a carefree manner. This entire episode served to heighten my frustration, and I finally turned my attention to other large fish present in the area below the bridge. The distinct possibility of a skunking flooded my thoughts.

A Roll Cast to Avoid the Brush

As I pivoted toward the center of the river, I once again spied the large trout hovering over the large round sand bottom depression. Perhaps they were more open to a surface fly now that the baetis emergence appeared to be in a more advanced state. I cast across and above these fish numerous times and attempted to offset wind drag with exaggerated mends and upstream reaches, but I never observed the slightest evidence that the fish looked at my surface fly. I checked off another blunted strategy and turned my attention once again to the twenty foot section of run and riffle directly below the bridge.

Number One in the Net

As I paused to consider my approach, a brown trout rose and created a popping sound in the slow shelf pool no more that five feet above me. I watched it return to its feeding position, and then I dropped a cast upstream. The fly drifted no more than six inches, and the targeted brown trout bolted to the surface and inhaled the size 20 CDC BWO. What a thrill to suddenly tempt a trout with my dry fly! I lifted the rod tip and felt a deep bend, as I was connected to a healthy fourteen inch brown. I registered my first fish of the day and unleashed some trash talk to the scoffing wind, as it taunted me to overcome its adversity again.

Just a Beauty

After releasing the prize first catch, I paused and once again surveyed the run. I thought I saw a dark shadow along the fast current seam fifteen feet above me, so I overpowered some forward casts to combat the head wind, and on the third such effort, the fly landed and was immediately engulfed by a fish. Was this a dream? This fish launched from the river and revealed itself to be a corpulent rainbow trout, and it executed the characteristic rapid runs and streaks that one would expect from the rainbow species. I expertly played the agile fish from my reel and allowed it to strip line several times, until I was able to lift its nose over the lip of my net. The fat sixteen inch rainbow was the best fish of the day, and I was very pleased.

Once again I released the fish and returned my attention to the the bridge riffle. I remembered spooking a fish from the shallow water next to the bank on April 13, so I scanned that area. Sure enough there was a decent rainbow facing downtream, but it seemed to be in a comatose state and not an active feeder. The shallow area bordered a small tight eddy, and a slight movement caught my attention. I focused my eyes on the swirling water, and as I stared another fish materialized. In fact as I peered attentively at the eddy, a second brown emerged from the green and brown rocky stream bed. Both were brown trout, and each darted to the surface and snatched food as I looked on. The riseform on the surface was extremely subtle and easily overlooked if not for the subsurface movement.

Number Three

I was now prepared, so I began dropping short casts to the eddy. The swirl and sucking action prevented me from following my fly for more than a few seconds, but on the fifth cast I noticed that the larger of the two fish elevated and shifted slightly to the left, so I lifted my rod in case my fly was the object of the brown trout’s affection. It was. My rod tip throbbed, and the brown slab thrashed, and then after a minute or two of battling I elevated the fish and slid my net beneath its broad body. What a thrill to catch a third above average size trout on the South Platte River in spite of the wind tunnel that surrounded me!

Unfortunately the remainder of the day was not very rewarding. The fishermen above the bridge abandoned our sweet spot, so we returned to our favorite haunt from the previous week. I resumed my position on the opposite side of the river next to the lane that leads to the campground. I repeated my strategy from April 13 with dapping downstream casts at the top of the riffles and long downstream drifts with stack mends through the midsection and lower area. None of my ploys produced. Steve had some sporadic success with an emerger dropper, so I converted to a dry/dropper set up with a fat Albert and RS2 and soft hackle emerger, but this tactic met with zero success. Unlike April 13 I never observed steady risers, but only sporadic random surface feeding, and this probably explains my inability to repeat success with downstream dry fly drifts. The wind was sweeping the tiny BWO’s from the surface before fish could react, so they compensated by nabbing rising emergers below the surface.

By 3:30 we were both chilled to the bone and beaten down by the nagging windstorm. Our arms dangled limply from our sides after forcing repeated casts into the unrelenting headwind. We agreed to quit so we could begin the long return trip. It was a tough day on the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon, but I managed to land three gorgeous trout in the fourteen to sixteen inch range. Although the fish count was low, I remain quite proud of my ability to overcome the adversity of the four letter word, wind. I landed three quality fish, and for that I am very thankful.

Fish Landed: 3

Time: 10:00AM – 4:00PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/17/2017 Photo Album

It was a beautiful day with the high temperature in the sixties and overcast skies for much of the day, although gusts of wind were a significant negative. The flows were up a bit at 90 cfs compared to my two previous trips to the South Platte, but the river remained nearly perfect for late April. I departed Denver at 7AM, and this enabled me to reach a parking space along the South Platte River by 9:30, and I was in the river fishing by 10AM.

My Starting Point Along the Dirt Road

I walked down the road and entered at a point that was farther downstream than I ever previously fished in this segment of the Eleven Mile Canyon area. I began fishing with a yellow fat Albert and trailed a beadhead hares ear nymph and an ultra zug bug, but I switched out the ultra zug bug for a mercury black beauty after twenty minutes with no action. In the early going I experienced a refusal to the yellow fat Albert and two momentary hookups, and I suspected the temporary connections were a function of the tiny size 22 midge larva.

Zoomed a Bit Closer

Between 10:00 and 11:30 I covered a significant amount of water and managed to land five trout, four browns and one rainbow. All the morning fish were in the twelve inch size range, and I was pleased with the steady action. Halfway through the morning I swapped the mercury black beauty for a salad spinner, and the move paid off, when a brown and rainbow snatched the small midge imitation in a deep narrow slot, just before I returned to the car for lunch.

More Rocks Equals More Pockets

After lunch I endured thirty minutes without any action, and I spotted a couple blue winged olives, so I removed the salad spinner and replaced it with a soft hackle emerger. Unfortunately the BWO emerger was not what the fish desired, so I reverted to the salad spinner, and that change rewarded me with some great action, as the fish count increased from five to eleven. I estimate that five of the eleven landed fish consumed the salad spinner, and the others crushed the beadhead hares ear nymph.

Macro

One again I endured a lull, as I moved through several attractive pockets, so I snipped off the salad spinner and replaced it with a beadhead pheasant tail. The size 18 pheasant tail produced one nice brown trout from a deep seam, but for some reason the fat Albert suddenly became a more desired commodity. During the afternoon time frame four trout crushed the fat Albert, and all seemed to materialize from slow moving slack water along the bank. The hares ear continued to provide steady production, and between 2:30 and 4 the sky clouded up, and I noticed a few more small BWO’s in the air. During this overcast period I exchanged the pheasant tail for a size 22 RS2, and three brown trout attacked the small baetis nymph imitation, as it began to lift and swing at the end of long drifts.

Yummy Deep Run Ahead

By 4PM I was quite weary, so I decided to call it a day. I landed twenty-three trout in 5.5 hours of fishing. The largest trout measured twelve inches, and only two of my catches were rainbows. Despite the relatively small size of the South Platte trout, I enjoyed the day, as I covered a large amount of stream mileage, and I moved quickly from pocket to pocket. The hares ear was my most productive fly; but the fat Albert, salad spinner and RS2 also earned their time on my line. After a couple hours on the river I learned that the most productive locations were long pockets and runs through moderate riffles. The fish seemed to relish places, where they could spread out in water with moderate depth and moderate current velocity. Large deep holes and slow moving pools did not produce, and I learned to skip over these sections of the river.

Fish Landed: 23

Time: 10:30AM – 3:30PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 04/13/2017 Photo Album

Based on my many years of fly fishing, I can attest to the fact that history rarely repeats itself, but Thursday was mostly an exception to that rule. I made plans to return to the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon on April 13 with my North Platte River fishing companion Steve. We met at 8AM at his home in Lone Tree, and after a two hour and fifteen minute drive to the tailwater below Eleven Mile Dam, we arrived at a small parking lot next to the river.

One major deviation from my experience on Tuesday aside from a different fishing buddy, was our location, since we drove the length of the canyon, until we were two hundred yards below the dam. As was the case on Tuesday the flows remained at 80 CFS; however, the sky was clear blue for the entire day, and the high temperature peaked in the upper sixties.

Starting Point Below the Bridge

I assembled my Sage four weight and then ambled to the bank just downstream of the bridge, while Steve chose to explore the river on the upstream side. I hesitate to call the structure a bridge, since it was an earthen embankment with four large culverts carrying the cold volume of water under the road. The upper river where we fished on Thursday was wider and shallower than the stretch that Trevor and I covered on Tuesday. Before I chose my approach, I paused and observed the deep run and pool in front of me. Immediately I spotted five or six fish in the two depressions downstream from the riffle and run, where the river poured through the pipes.

The low clear water dictated that I avoid a strike indicator and split shot, and I also concluded that the plunk of my revered size 8 fat Albert would create too much disturbance. I pulled a size 12 olive stimulator from my fly box and knotted it to my line along with a size 20 soft hackle emerger and a mercury black beauty. I sprayed casts over the depression near my position and then covered another one directly across, but the large trout continued to hug the stream bed, as they were unimpressed with my three fly offering. I exchanged the black beauty for a size 20 RS2, but that failed to reverse my fortunes.

After twenty minutes of futile casting I advanced to the nice deep runs just below the bridge. The water was faster in this area, and I could observe some decent fish hovering in the depths next to the heavier current. I executed an abundant quantity of drifts over the elusive trout before me, but once again the fish treated my flies like inert flotsam. How could I interest these fish in my offerings? I conjectured that my flies were not getting deep enough given the position of the trout on the stream bottom, so I swapped the RS2 for a heavier beadhead hares ear nymph. My minor attempt at change was also soundly rejected. During this entire episode I witnessed only one or two surface rises, and I concluded that any potential baetis hatch was not yet in progress. I was puzzled however by the lack of interest in my blue winged olive nymph imitations, since they generally provide some action in the hours before an emergence.

I glanced at my watch and noted it was 11:30, so I decided to check out Steve’s results on the west side of the bridge. He reported that he landed one nice brown trout on a blue winged olive emerger. The water on the upstream side of the bridge was slower, and a series of quasi rock dams created some deeper troughs in the middle. Steve was positioned below the widest concentration of rock structures, and once again I could see an abundance of nice fish spread throughout the area. As I observed and chatted with Steve, several active fish slowly rose to the surface and sipped a tiny morsel of food from the film. Several fishermen were above Steve, and we were unwilling to abandon his location, so we decided to eat lunch in shifts. I took the first time slot and returned to the car and ate my lunch quickly, while I sat next to the river where I fished during the morning.

Another Fisherman in Some Nice Water Above Us

When I returned, I noticed another fishermen between Steve and the bridge, so I claimed the position vacated by Steve, and he retreated to the car to grab a quick bite. During Steve’s absence I removed the three fly dry/dropper arrangement and tied a size 18 CDC blue winged olive to my line. Based on my experience on Tuesday I tied five new size 18’s and three new 20’s in anticipation of the Thursday return to Eleven Mile Canyon, and one of the 18’s found a home on my line. I began making reach casts across the current lanes, and then allowed the flies to drift downstream. These drifts floated my fly over numerous prospects, but the only response was a pair of refusals by a small brown trout eight feet below me.

Steve returned quickly, and I allowed him to reclaim his spot. I actually preferred fishing from the opposite side, where I could employ long downstream drifts similar to my approach on Tuesday, so I announced my intention to Steve and then crossed the bridge and walked along the dirt road that led to a campground. The northwest side of the river would become my home for the remaining 2.5 hours of fishing on April 13. From my vantage point at the top of the riffles I could see an abundant quantity of sizable fish spread throughout the deep riffles, the downstream pool, and the smooth flats next to the bank.

In the Water

Pleased With This Catch

The hatch intensified a bit by 12:30, but it never achieved the intensity of Tuesday, nor did it last as long. The clear blue sky, warmer temperatures and intermittent wind probably explain the inferior baetis hatch, but there was enough mayfly activity to interest the residents of the South Platte River. The fly fishing was more challenging than Tuesday, but I managed to land ten fish over the course of the afternoon. All the netted fish responded to my newly tied CDC BWO, as seven sipped the size 18, and the last three fell for the size 20. More impressive than the number of fish was the size and variety. My net felt the weight of two trout in the fifteen inch range with most of the remainder occupying the 12 – 14 inch slot. I was quite pleased to land two absolutely magnificent cutthroat trout that displayed a deep copper-gold body color and vivid fine spots. A fourteen inch cutbow exhibited the stripe of a rainbow and the prototypical slash of a cutthroat. Three rainbows were among my fish count, and four brown trout rounded out the day. One of the rainbows and a cutthroat stretched the measuring tape to fifteen inches.

Amazing Colors

All my landed fish responded to a downstream presentation. I stood at the very top of the riffles above the cluster of large rocks, and I made casts directly downstream. I checked my cast high and allowed a substantial amount of slack fly line to pile in the current, and then I executed stack mends and wiggled my rod tip to allow a long drift. I recall several cases where a fish bulged and inhaled my fly fifty to seventy feet below me. Needless to say the surge of excitement that resulted from landing sizable fish on dry flies presented with long downstream drifts was exhilarating.

Stretched Out

Meanwhile nearly all of Steve’s success resulted from upstream casts to the faster water with a three fly set up that included two dries and an emerger. All of Steve’s landed fish crushed the emerger, and this made me puzzle over this circumstance. Perhaps the fish in the fast runs and riffles were keyed on emergers, while the fish in the slower areas spread out and sipped duns? I vowed to test this theory in a future visit.

A Better Grip

In summary it was another banner dry fly day on the South Platte River. I landed ten gorgeous cold water fish, and all sipped a CDC BWO that was presented on a downstream drift. The day was not total perfection, as I experienced a large number of surface refusals and underwater snubs, and my arm ached from the huge quantity of casts, but the superior size and variety of fish made the trip worthwhile. Prime time in Colorado is commencing.

Fish Landed: 10

Time: 10:30AM – 3:00PM

Location: Elevenmile Canyon

South Platte River 04/11/2017 Photo Album

Everything was set. The flows were nearly ideal at 80 cfs, and the high temperature was projected to reach the low fifties. I contacted my new friend @rockymtnangler, and he agreed to join me for a day in Eleven Mile Canyon on the South Platte River. The fly shop web sites indicated that we could expect midge hatches in the morning and blue winged olives in the afternoon.

Since @rockymtnangler (also known as Trevor) is the proud owner of a rod vault, he performed the driving duties, and I assembled my Sage four weight and slid it into one of his empty rod vault tubes, when he arrived to pick me up at 7:30AM. We departed Stapleton, and after negotiating some relatively heavy rush hour traffic in Denver, we arrived at the special regulation water of the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon by 10AM.

I reaped the benefit of the rod vault when we arrived, and after I climbed into my waders, I was prepared to attack the beautiful crystal clear flows below the dirt road where we parked. Trevor and I carefully negotiated a steep path down a rocky bank next to Trevor’s car, and we found ourselves on the water ready to fish by 10:30. I walked downstream a bit to a nice pool, while Trevor took a position next to a gorgeous deep pool directly below the car.

End of the Drift

In the first 1.5 hours Trevor and I each landed two decent trout. My first fish was a thirteen inch brown trout that snatched the beadhead hares ear in a riffle of moderate depth above a deep slow moving pool. Trevor netted a fine rainbow concurrent with my initial brown, and we celebrated our “double”. After photographing and releasing the brown, I carefully angled across the river and prospected a couple marginal pockets with the fat Albert trailing a beadhead hares ear and mercury black beauty. I exchanged a RS2 for the black beauty after an unproductive half hour trial period.

Very Nice Beginning

The second pocket was noteworthy for its mediocre appearance, but I tossed a couple casts to the top, and on the third drift I was shocked when a pulsing weight bent my rod tip, as I lifted to continue my upstream progress. The cause of my vibrating rod was a welcome twelve inch brown trout that displayed the tiny black beauty in the corner of its mouth.

Looking for Rises

I continued my progress to the opposite bank and moved to a position opposite Trevor in the gorgeous riffle, run and pool, where he initially staked out a spot. I was certain that the riffles of moderate depth at the top of the run would deliver a fish before lunch, but my expectations were misplaced. Trevor moved downstream toward the slower moving tail of the pool, and he reported a series of sporadic rises in the smooth deep area where the center current fanned out into a pool. I offered some drifts from my side of the river, but the pod of fish in the deepest section disregarded my flies. I observed quite a few nice fish below me, so I clipped off the three fly set up and converted to a single size 22 CDC BWO. In the remaining time before I climbed to the car to obtain my lunch, I managed to generate a few frustrating refusals, but mostly futile casts.

While I was stuffing my backpack with my lunch as well as Trevor’s, I heard him shout from the edge of the river below. I quickly pulled on my light down coat, as I was chilled while standing waist deep in the cold tailwater, and then I slowly slid down the angled gravel path and joined Trevor. Trevor was quite excited and announced that the hatch advanced in intensity, and the length of the pool was littered with rising fish. I decided to delay lunch and quickly crossed at the tail of the pool and claimed a position on the western bank. Trevor informed me that five or six fish were rising in the moderate riffles in front of me, but the glare of the sun made following my tiny size 22 CDC BWO very difficult. I shifted my focus to trout rising along the center current seam, but once again the tiny mayfly imitation was mostly ignored, with a couple refusals in the mix to heighten my frustration.

Dave Is Pleased

I queried Trevor, and he reported that the baetis where quite large and probably a size 16 or 18. This information prompted me to swap the size 22 for a size 18 with a fairly tall and bulky CDC wing. This move paid off, and I began to connect with South Platte River trout. Between 12:30 and 3:00 I landed ten additional trout, with three showing off the buttery yellow color that distinguishes a brown trout. Rainbow trout were the prevalent species, as seven striped beauties spent time in my net. All the afternoon fish sipped the size 18 CDC BWO, as the baetis adults emerged in waves over the 2.5 hour period. The heaviest emergence periods seemed to coincide with long periods of cloud cover. As the hatch intensified, the regularity of the rises increased, and my confidence surged. If I focused on a steady riser and made accurate downstream drifts, I could bank on a sipping rise, and in many cases I was rewarded. The rainbows measured in the twelve to fourteen inch range, and they did not slide into my net without a spirited tussle.

One of My Better Brown Trout

Trevor meanwhile was enjoying similar luck on his side of the river, as he tossed an assortment of size 16 and 18 flies such as a parachute adams and a CDC and deer hair comparadun. By 2PM we endured an extended lull, so I migrated downstream to the smaller pool, where I initiated my fishing day in the morning. I paused on the west bank and observed the entry riffle and deep pool for three minutes. As expected I spotted a nice active fish, as it hovered just below the surface and revealed sipping rises from time to time. I waded across a shallow intervening run and positioned myself five yards upstream of the sighted fish, and twenty-five feet across.

Gorgeous Colors

I stripped out a decent amount of line, and I fired a cast, so that it fluttered down ten feet above my targeted stream dweller. I was able to see my small fly on the surface, and I patiently waited, as the current carried the small mayfly downstream. When the small lint-like speck bobbed a few inches above the targeted fish, it slid six inches to the side and sipped the fraud. I could barely contain my excitement, as I gently lifted my rod tip and found myself connected to a spirited streaking rainbow trout. The annoyed feeder streaked back and forth a few times and gathered up my slack fly line. I shifted from stripping to playing the trout off the reel, and the watery foe made one more streaking dash that stripped additional line from the reel. After the last rush upstream I gained the upper hand and guided the colorful male into my net. Trevor waded into a position upstream of where I kneeled to release my prize, and he snapped some timely photos. Trevor was impressed with the hooked jaw of the vanquished rainbow in my net.

The Release

Eventually the lower pool remained quiet, so we returned to our previous positions in the large pool that occupied our efforts for most of the afternoon. Another wave of dense BWO emergence erupted during the last thirty minutes, and I managed to land number ten from the moderate riffle section at the top. This segment of the pool thwarted me for most of the day, but it finally delivered, when I executed downstream casts from the shallow riffles directly above.

Mauled CDC BWO Accounted for Ten Trout on Tuesday

Trevor suggested that we quit at 2:40, so we could leave with the memories of our last outstanding fish landed, but the pool was alive with rising fish. I waded downstream a bit and managed to land two more thirteen inch rainbow trout on downstream drifts along the edge of the center current seam. At three o’clock we decided to quit in order to get a jump on the long return drive; however, the pool remained alive with regular risers.

What a day! It has been quite awhile since I experienced a day, when I landed double digit trout on a dry fly. The duration of the blue winged olive hatch was impressive. I fought off the urge to switch to a dry/dropper approach with an RS2 and soft hackle emerger, and I was pleased with the results. Fishing a single dry fly to spotted rises is really the essence of fly fishing, and that approach defined my success on April 11. Trevor registered an equally enjoyable day on his maiden visit to Eleven Mile Canyon, and he repeatedly expressed his desire to return. He characterized Tuesday as his best ever day of stream fishing. Spring fly fishing in Colorado is heating up, and I am excited by that prospect.

Fish Landed: 12