Time: 10:30AM – 4:00PM

Location: Near Happy Meadows Campground.

South Platte River 05/13/2016 Photo Album

Insanity is continuing to do the same thing but expecting different results. We have all heard this proposition. Is the corollary to this, therefore, that continuing to do the same thing will yield the same result? The corollary proposition is what I set out to test on Friday May 13. The other question weighing on my thoughts was whether it was a good idea to engage in a fishing trip on Friday the 13th?

Thursday was a spectacular day on the South Platte River, and the conditions for Friday were likely to match the previous day in nearly every aspect. The high temperature was expected to be in the mid-60’s in the Lake George area and the stream flows continued to release from Eleven Mile Reservoir at a very benign 64 cfs. I had my eye on the section of the South Platte River downstream from Lake George near the Happy Meadows Campground.

I sampled this stretch one time several years ago for a few hours, and I landed eight small fish, so I knew that trout were present. The area impressed me as a haven of bait and spin fishermen, so I suspected that it received considerably more pressure than the Eleven Mile segment, and since normal regulations apply, there was a greater risk that fish were harvested. At the very least it was likely that the bigger fish were killed and consumed for table fare. Perhaps I would undertake a two plus hour drive only to discover that small fish resided in the river, but the weather and scenery would certainly compensate for a pedestrian fishing experience. Most of the other stream options along the Front Range were beginning to exhibit the higher flows related to run off conditions, so I decided to gamble on the South Platte River in the Happy Meadows Campground area.

If you read my post from Thursday, you may recall that I suffered some disappointing equipment failure, so before I departed on Friday, I decided to attempt a contrived temporary repair. The metal button on the heel of my right boot snapped off, and with no place to hook the rubber tab; it flapped, and the rear section of the sole was loose. I was concerned that this situation could worsen if the tab wedged beneath a rock, so I created an on stream solution by knotting a section of 0X monofilament through the hole in the tab and then around my ankle. This held for a few hours until I made a quick movement which caused the heavy duty mono to snap.

Another Contrived Boot Repair Held Up Better on Friday

My new solution on Friday morning was to deploy a small bungee cord. I hooked one end of the cord through the hole in the tab and then stretched it across the front of my boot and around the other side before I hooked the other metal end of the bungee through the same hole. Voila! The bungee cord was sized perfectly and it stretched enough to hold the rubber tab taut against the heel of the boot, and thus the sole was lifted up against the mid-sole. I was pleased with my creativity, and the temporary fix did in fact bridge me through a day of fishing.

I took my time preparing for the Friday fishing venture, and therefore I departed the house by 7:40AM, and this enabled me to cruise into a narrow dirt pullout a mile or two below Happy Meadows Campground by 10AM. The air temperature was around sixty degrees with a slight breeze blowing, so I opted for a single fleece layer. It was warmer than Thursday, but it remained slightly uncomfortable without an extra layer over my fishing shirt. As was the case on Thursday I assembled my Sage four piece four weight for a day of fishing on a relatively small river.

Cannot Wait to Drift Flies Through That Run

I could continue to describe my tactics and fly choices, but it was really a fairly simple scenario. In the opening paragraph I questioned whether continuing to do the same things would yield the same results? In addition to weather and stream flows, I utilized the same fly patterns and same tactics as Thursday, and the results were in fact quite similar. At this point I emphatically declare that the beadhead hares ear nymph is back in a big way. On Friday I slapped on the same yellow fat Albert and then added a beadhead hares ear, and I utilized my favorite dry/dropper technique to prospect all the likely runs, riffles pockets and pools; and the results attest to the effectiveness of this fly fishing strategy.

A Beast

The fish in the South Platte River simply have a love affair with the beadhead hares ear nymph. By noon when I quit for lunch, I registered nineteen landed fish with another five or six brief hook ups that escaped. Once again the pace of fishing was insane. Admittedly the size of the fish was a bit lacking with numerous seven and eight inch fish, but there were enough twelve and thirteen inchers in the mix to keep me guessing. A few fish slurped the fat Albert on the surface, and an occasional refusal to the large buoyant indicator fly generated some frustration, but the constant effectiveness of the hares ear induced me to persist with the winning combination.

Tiny Slot Yielded a Decent Fish

After lunch it seemed that I covered a few juicy pockets with no results, so I decided to augment my offerings. I added an ultra zug bug in the top position and moved the beadhead hares ear to the end of the three fly lineup. Whether because I moved onto better water, or because of the addition of a second fly, the action resumed at a torrid pace. Toward the late afternoon I bumped into another fisherman who was tossing live minnows in a long deep run and pool. I did not want to infringe on his space, and the water he was covering was not to my liking, so I hiked back to the car and drove upstream a half mile and then reentered the river and resumed my progression.

Gorgeous Rainbow

The late afternoon section featured more white water and deep pockets with numerous large protruding boulders, and the ultra zug bug began to shine. I estimate that greater than 50% of the landed fish displayed the ultra zug bug in the 1.5 hour session from 2:30 until I quit at 4. In addition a higher percentage of netted fish were rainbow trout, whereas, the morning split was closer to 50/50. Several of the rainbows were very chunky thirteen and fourteen inch battlers.

A Wide Shallow Section

Friday was another fabulous day on the South Platte River. My gamble paid off in a big way, and the hares ear nymph temporarily resumed its place at the top of Dave’s favorite fishing flies. Will this last through the summer? Stay tuned. I continued to do things the same, and the results were similar. Friday the 13th did not seem to have a negative impact on my fishing results.

Fish Landed: 58

Time: 10:30AM – 4:30PM

Location: Eleven Mile Canyon

South Platte River 05/12/2016 Photo Album

Sometimes the stars align. Thursday represented one of the most insane fishing days I ever experienced. Did I really land sixty-two fish? Yes I did plus or minus two or three. I probably had ten to fifteen additional hooked fish that I was unable to bring to my net. The only downside was the size of the fish; but constant action, while most streams balloon with run off, is nothing to scoff at.

In addition to a great day of fishing, I received positive news on my Tuesday blood test related to my January surgery. In the grand scheme of things, that was probably greater cause for celebration than any sort of fishing accomplishment. But this is a fishing blog, so I will stick to the script.

I got off to a nice early start and arrived at the river and prepared to fish with my Sage four weight four piece rod. The air temperature was in the low 40’s, as I waded into the water, so I threw on my fleece to maintain some semblance of warmth, although I expected the temperature to rise into the sixties as the morning progressed into a sunny afternoon. The river was flowing at 64 cfs, and it looked nearly ideal. There was enough water to allow wading without requiring excessive caution, yet I could easily cross from side to side to fish attractive runs and pockets

Gorgeous Setting

One piece of bad news that placed a small blemish on a wonderful day was the discovery of a defect in my right wading boot. Jane purchased the Korkers for me as a Christmas gift, so I only used them this season; and as I prepared to fish, I noticed that the rubber loop at the heal was dangling away from the boot. I compared the right boot to the left and realized that the button or rivet over which the rubber loop stretched was missing. Hopefully this can be repaired and is covered by the warranty. I feel like a wading boot should last more than a couple months before breaking. I took a few minutes to contrive a repair, and it lasted for roughly half my time on the water. I cut a three foot length of 0X monofilament and threaded it through the hole in the rubber loop. I then tied a loop on the other end and wrapped the line around my ankle, and finally I used the end without a loop to tie a clinch knot through the mono loop. Unfortunately there was too much play in the leader, so I then wound the slack around the boa dial until it was taut. It worked for awhile, and I was rather proud of my creativity.

On Stream Boot Repair

To start my day of fishing I tied on a yellow fat Albert. I hoped that this would be the only fly required to dupe South Platte River trout, but unfortunately it was not the answer. Almost immediately I observed a refusal, and several juicy pockets failed to generate any interest, so I pulled up the fly and attached a beadhead hares ear on a three foot leader. This adjustment proved to be a stroke of genius, as I went on to land seventeen fish between 10:30 and my lunch break at noon. All the trout hammered the beadhead hares ear except for one gorgeous fifteen inch brown that rose and crushed the fat Albert. This was the largest brown trout I ever caught in Eleven Mile, and it was also the biggest trout landed on Thursday, May 12. The fat Albert fooled one fish on Thursday, and it was the largest of the day.

Fat Albert Fooled This Guy

My biggest concern was that I would deplete my supply of beadhead hares ear nymphs. In the morning two broke off and one unraveled. After lunch I decided to test a different fly in case my beadhead hares ears disappeared. Why not, as my fish counter already registered seventeen fish? I replaced the hares ear with an emerald caddis pupa, and I began to prospect the attractive spots in a manner similar to my morning experience. After coming up empty in two spots that screamed fish, I concluded that the trout were selective to a hares ear nymph. Instead of exchanging the emerald caddis for the hares ear, I added it on a second dropper, so that I was fishing three flies. This would now be an experiment to see if the fish ate only the hares ear, or whether they attacked both subsurface flies.

Beadhead Hares Ear Ruled

Guess what happened? Nearly all the fish landed in the afternoon grabbed the hares ear. It was amazing. In nearly every deep pocket, moderate riffle and deep run, a fish materialized from nowhere to snatch the hares ear as it tumbled along behind the fat Albert. In many cases I could observe fish move a foot or more to intercept the simple gray beadhead nymph. At one point I removed the emerald caddis pupa because it did not seem to be serving any purpose, but when I then fished with only the beadhead hares ear, it seemed that my catch rate deteriorated. I concluded that the two fly combination somehow attracted more fish, even though they were predisposed to take the hares ear

Instead of an emerald caddis pupa, I elected to knot an ultra zug bug to my line as the top fly, and this simple nymph did hook four or five fish. By 3:30 I reached fifty fish, and two more hares ears unraveled as the thread was severed by the repeated attacks of sharp teeth. Quite a few additional hares ears remained in my MFC fly box, but I once again decided to experiment. Over the course of the afternoon, the sky clouded up often, and during these gray periods I witnessed a fair number of blue winged olives. I never bothered to switch to a BWO imitation because the fish seemed to relish the hares ear, and who was I to tamper with success? But now I removed a beadhead soft hackle emerger from the fly box and added it to my line below the ultra zug bug. The soft hackle emerger accounted for four or five fish in the late afternoon time period, but it also generated many more long distance releases perhaps due to the smaller hook size.

Pink Stripe

Fly fishing on Thursday was outstanding and reduced to its simplest form. The beadhead hares ear was what the fish wanted, and I probably could have landed more fish if I yielded to their preference. Instead I over analyzed and experimented with other patterns. Since fly selection was a no brainer, the only challenge was wading and moving quickly from place to place. It was important to recognize the water types that yielded fish. The best spots were deep narrow runs or V-shaped pockets where currents merged. If I allowed the flies to drift beyond the sweet spot and then lifted, I hooked numerous larger than average fish from this type of structure. Riffles over a rocky bottom with moderate depth were also productive, and deep pockets longer that five feet yielded many fish as well.

Some Nice Water Ahead

It was a blast. I love this sort of fast paced action. I covered more than a mile of the river, and in most cases I found fish where I expected to find fish. Hopefully the ideal flows will last a bit longer so I can enjoy another opportunity to fish the South Platte River.

Fish Landed: 62

Time: 10:00AM – 5:00PM

Location: South Platte River

Fish Landed: 3

South Platte River 03/28/2016 Photo Album

After a nine day road trip and four days in the heat of Arizona, I was anxious to get my waders wet in a Colorado trout stream. My young friend, Danny Ryan, sent me a text message to check on my availability for Monday March 28. Danny did not need to initiate even slight coaxing, as I was on board immediately. Weather was another positive factor boosting my urge to fish, as high temperatures were projected to reach the low sixties on Monday.

I picked Danny up at his apartment at 8:30, and we made a quick stop at the Discount Tackle shop on South Santa Fe to restock our supplies of tippet material. Before long we pulled in to the parking lot near the South Platte River and began our quest for our favorite cold water species. Danny logged several days of fishing at this location, so he stepped into the guide role. We expected to do mainly subsurface nymphing, so I set up my thingamabobber configuration with five feet of level line below the indicator. Next I tied on a salad spinner and an RS2 and began to dead drift nymphs through a nice run of moderate depth. I began fishing on the gravel beach side of the river, whereas Danny assumed a position on a high bank.

A Wide Fish

From Danny’s high vantage point he could more readily spot fish, but he also shouted out positions to me so I could take advantage of his observation. We fished for only fifteen minutes when Danny shouted that he had a fish on. I glanced in his direction, and sure enough a large football shaped rainbow was thrashing on the end of his line, and his five weight rod exhibited a massive bend. Danny followed the fish down the river until he found a spot where he could clumsily slide down the bank, and here he was finally able to wiggle the large thrashing fish into his net. I immediately dropped my rod and line and rushed to a position opposite Danny, and he then waded across the shallow tail of the run so I could snap some photos. It was a thrilling start to our day on the river. Danny’s trophy fish for the day snatched a salad spinner from the drift.

Vivid Speckles on This Cutbow

We each resumed our positions and continued drifting nymphs through the twenty yard section of the river. Danny could spot numerous decent fish, and the prospect of landing another large rainbow kept us very focused on our venture. After another twenty minutes of fruitless casting I heard Danny once again shout that he hooked a fish. Again he carefully maneuvered his way downstream along the high bank, until eventually the rebellious foe wrapped his line around a branch that was protruding from the bank. I was certain that the fish was gone, but Danny carefully moved into the river and found the fish just downstream of the branch. Once he marked the position of the trout, he was able to slide his net underneath while lifting the branch. The effort was worth it, as he held a gorgeous cutbow in front of his chest so I could once again snap a photo. The cutbow displayed a vast quantity of fine vivid speckles, and Danny grinned from from ear to ear.

Of course I was elated for Danny’s early success, but at the same time seeing the two nice trout in his net spurred me to focus even more on my effort to join the party. Danny traded positions with me, and I assumed the perch on top of the high bank. From where I was standing I could see four or five decent sized fish in addition to three or four active spawners that we avoided out of respect for ethical fishing practices. I executed drift after drift over the sighted fish and watched both my indicator and the movement of the fish, but none of my efforts yielded a hook up.

Two Large Spawners

There was a very nice deep run and pool thirty yards below our water, but another fisherman claimed first rights by arriving before us. Late in the morning, however, we looked downstream and noticed the area was devoid of fishermen, so we quickly moved. As we began drifting our nymphs, we noticed a pod of at least fifteen large fish hovering along the current seam where the river bottom transitioned from light sand to a dark color. Initially we were quite excited with the opportunity to fish to this significant quantity of large targets, but after a few minutes we realized that it was a school of spawning walleye that held in the deep run. Of course I was not opposed to catching large walleye on a fly, but our next discovery was that these fish had an acute case of lockjaw, and they were not showing interest in our flies.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless casting we abandoned the popular hole and walked upstream to a nice riffle and run area above our starting point. As we waded across the river, Danny spotted a rainbow in some riffles, so he paused to cast to his fish. I went farther downstream and worked my nymphs along the bank in some narrow slack water areas, but I was prospecting and quickly grew weary of blind casting. Danny circled around me and approached a deep section next to some downed timber, and once again he hooked up on a monster fish. This time however the potential trophy spit the hook, and Danny was in a state of disappointment. I began drifting my nymphs so that they tumbled over some gravel and then dropped off into the top of the deep hole above Danny’s position. Again I was thwarted in my efforts, so I made several half-hearted casts to a narrow deep run along some brush on the far bank. Much to my amazement, a fish darted from cover and snatched the RS2. The rainbow that splashed on the end of my line did not measure up to Danny’s earlier conquests, but I was nevertheless exuberant to land a thirteen inch fish and register my first fish of the day.

A nice deep slow moving pool was just upstream from the location that Danny and I were fishing, but another fisherman occupied it when we first arrived, and he appeared to be casting dry flies. While Danny continued to pursue the behemoth that he hooked momentarily, I noticed that the pool was now vacated, so I made my move to claim it. I waded into the tail of the pool, and I did indeed observe several rises. In addition I could see five or six fish cruising the pool. These fish however seemed to be more interested in a mating ritual than eating. Since I did see a couple rises, I decided to abandon the thingamabobber nymph rig, so I sat down on the gravel and made the laborious switch to a tapered leader. To the end of the tippet I knotted a size 22 CDC blue winged olive, and then I paused to observe. It was not long before I noticed a rise near the center of the pool so I began stripping line to lengthen my cast.

Have you ever had one of those days when adversity finds you at every turn? As I began stripping line from my reel, I made repetitive tugs, but after I had twenty-five feet of line out, I felt no more resistance. I looked down at my reel, and I could not believe what I was seeing. The fly line was coiled on the gravel, and the severed end of another end of line protruded from my reel. Somehow my fly line tore as I was stripping line. What should I do? The tear was 25-30 feet from the end, so I concluded that I could knot the line and fish with the length beyond the knot. If I hooked a large fish that stripped line, I was out of luck as the line knot would surely catch, but the only other option was to hike back to the car and retrieve my four weight rod.

I threaded the spooled line through my guides and tied a square knot to reconnect the green line. The square knot eventually unraveled, so I replaced it with a loop to loop connection, and that endured for the remainder of the day. Initially I was disturbed by this turn of events, as I could not get into my normal casting rhythm, but eventually I learned to deal with the shortened amount of running line. I resumed casting to the vicinity of the observed rises and moved up along the bank, so I could reach the midsection without making long casts. I wish I could say that I matched the hatch and landed a batch of large rainbows, but the best I could do was two splashy refusals across from me next to a large submerged boulder. Another fisherman arrived and prepared to fish above me, and Danny approached from below, and I was weary of exercising my arm with no results, so we looped around the new arrival and moved farther upstream.

At the next attractive spot I ceded the nice water to Danny, as I sat down on the bank and ate my lunch. When I resumed I converted to a Fat Albert foam attractor matched with a beadhead hares ear and soft hackle emerger. Unfortunately this approach and fly combination did not pay dividends, so I continued up the river. It was now around 1PM, and although the sky was mainly blue and devoid of cloud cover, I began to notice sporadic small mayflies taking flight. A sparse blue winged olive hatch commenced, and I began to notice occasional rises in the slow moving pools.

Dave Shows a Small Brown

I reached a long smooth section of water above a large deadfall, and here I paused and observed four rises from separate fish spaced out across the pool. I clipped off the three fly dry/dropper set up and tied a different CDC olive to my line and began drifting the tiny imitation over the scene of the previous rises. Nothing. Perhaps I needed to try a different fly? I tied on another CDC olive and this was similarly unmolested. Next I gazed in my fly box and noticed a size 22 parachute olive with a tiny white wing post. The body on this fly appeared to be narrower than the CDC versions, so I gave it a shot. I cast the parachute three quarters upstream and allowed it to drift along the bank, and thwack, a fish surged and slurped my offering.

The confident eater proved to be a nine inch brown, but I was nevertheless excited to have found a fly that a fish regarded as food. I continued casting to the places where other rises occurred, but the hatch waned, and the fish showed no interest. Danny was downstream working his nymph magic, and it was getting late in the afternoon, so I decided to once again move to new scenery.

I waded upstream a bit and noticed another twenty to thirty yard long pool. As I paused and observed, I saw a dimple along the right bank near the top where the current angled toward the bank. I crossed to the other side, so I would be opposite the high bank and worked my way to the top where I spotted the single rise. When I arrived I stood motionless for a few minutes, and my patience paid off when I saw another greedy rise in front of a long submerged rock a couple feet out from the bank. My heart beat ticked up a bit, and I began to toss casts five feet above the location of the rise. I made five or six such casts, and I was about to give up, when I saw a decent fish dart from cover. The yellow missile chomped on my tiny blue winged olive offering, and I set the hook and played a thirteen inch brown trout to my net. It was not fat and was evidently recovering from the winter, but I was thrilled to net this gold colored beauty.

13″ Brown Trout

I continued upstream and scouted another very tempting bend pool, but the hatch was now over, and I saw no rises to straggling mayflies. Continuing to fish the size 22 olive was a fools errand, and I did not relish changing back to the dry/dropper configuration, so I retreated downstream and found Danny. We both agreed that it was getting late, and I was tired and hungry, so I cajoled him into calling it a day. We progressed so far up the river that it took thirty minutes via a well marked path to return to the parking lot.

It was a gorgeous early spring day, and although I did not catch many fish, I did enjoy fishing dry flies to rising fish. This was my first surface fishing in 2016, and I was rewarded with three brightly colored jewels. A day of fishing is always a success in my book.

Time: 12:00PM – 3:00PM

Location: Downstream from Deckers

Fish Landed: 0

South Platte River 02/29/2016 Photo Album

Monday February 29 was more than the first fishing outing of the year, as I took my first step toward a comeback from surgery on January 27. How appropriate that this significant stride occurred  on leap day, although I must admit that I did not execute a leap, but instead completed a slow shuffle into the ice cold flows of the South Platte River near Deckers, CO.

Although some residual abdominal soreness remained along with some other expected hardships associated with my type of surgery, I felt reasonably strong, and I could no longer deny the strong urge I felt to enjoy the unseasonably warm February weather. Would my arm still remember how to make the familiar casting stroke, and more importantly would the upper abdominal soreness come into play as I picked up line and generated a backcast? There was only one way to find out.

The temperature in Denver was forecast to reach the low 60’s on leap day, and this translated to the mid-fifties for Deckers, so Jane and I decided to make the trip. We arrived at the large bend pullout below Deckers by 11:30, and by the time I climbed into my waders and new wading boots and assembled my rod it was 11:45. The wind was gusting in a fierce unrelenting manner, so I decided to consume my lunch before I faced this adversity.

After lunch I walked along the road until I was just above a bridge, and here I slowly slid below a large boulder that served as a temporary windbreak. I strung my rod and before I could carefully shuffle into the river, Jane appeared along the road at the start of her one hour walk. I quickly shouted to her, and she approached on a short path and snapped a few photos of the momentous occasion. It was my first day of fishing in 2016, my first outing since surgery, and surely the first time I ever fished on a leap day.

Back in the Water after Surgery

I began my quest for the first trout of the new season with a flesh San Juan worm and a RS2. I quickly discovered that my greatest risk was a slip or stumble, as this would clearly aggravate my still tender upper abdominal muscles. For this reason I moved slowly, and my progress was interspersed with several long rest periods. The caution due to abdominal soreness is true, but the rest periods were provoked by two ridiculous tangles that forced me to snip off both my flies in order to straighten the entire mess.

After twenty minutes of casting practice, the indicator zipped upstream, and I set the hook and felt my line connected to a fish. Unfortunately this only lasted for a second or two, and then my best shot at a fish on leap day evaporated. I moved on and enjoyed being outdoors while I focused on executing dead drifts. In case the fish were reacting to emerging blue winged olives I alternated by imparting movement to the flies, but none of these techniques provoked any action.

Fine Looking Segment

At one point I spotted a fish chasing the worm at the tail of a run, so I exchanged the flesh colored imitation for a slumpbuster and retained the RS2 as a trailer from the eye of the streamer. This combination was likewise ineffective, although I once again observed a trout following the slumpbuster, but I could not entice a take.

Slumpbuster on My Line

Onward I moved until I circled the large bend where the Santa Fe was parked, and then I approached an island across from the Deckers parking lot. I worked up the right side to no avail and encountered a pair of fishermen at the attractive deep run near the top of the island. This forced me to retreat to the downstream tip, and then I worked a marginal run along the left braid. None of this resulted in a fish or even the image of a spotted fish, so I climbed to the road and strode back along the shoulder to Jane’s sheltered retreat near a bench.

RS2 Was Tested

I decided to repeat covering the stretch where I observed two follows. Unfortunately early in this pursuit I snapped off both my flies (an ultra zug bug and RS2), and rather than recommit to nymphs and an indicator, I decided to toss one of my new chubby chernobyls. I clipped off the flies and removed the strike indicator and split shot and replaced everything with a beige chubby and size 20 soft hackle emerger, as I stuck with the blue winged olive theme. Alas none of these strategies caused the fish to show interest. I swapped the soft hackle emerger for a salvation nymph and beadhead hares ear, but these were likewise ignored, so I called it a day and joined Jane back at the car where she sought refuge from the relentless gusts of wind.

I avoided injury and took my first fly fishing step toward recovery, so despite getting skunked, I counted leap day as a success.

Time: 11:00AM – 2:30PM

Location: Waterton Canyon near Rattlesnake picnic area.

Fish Landed: 3

South Platte River 11/03/2015 Photo Album

November 3 and the high temperature in Denver was 75 degrees. What should one do when such a fortunate break in the weather presents itself to a Denver resident? Well of course if one is an avid fly fisherman, one must visit a local stream.

After three consecutive visits to Clear Creek, I was ready for a change. At least five years passed since I last visited the South Platte River in Waterton Canyon, so I decided to make a trip to this historically productive location. During 2007 I fished the catch and release water below Strontia Springs Dam in late fall several times and experienced decent results including some fairly dense blue winged olive hatches. The stream strayed from my favorites in recent years due to a host of reasons. First it was closed for nearly a year while repairs were made to the dam. After that closure I read reports that the number of fish diminished, and fishermen were disappointed with results despite DOW assurances that the fish density remained the same.

More recently it seemed that the flows were either too high or too low, and I regularly found alternatives that seemed more promising. For the last two months when flows were constantly in the ideal range, the area was closed due to bear activity. Finally Jane read in the newspaper that Denver Water was reopening Waterton Canyon on Friday October 30. With this welcome news we decided to undertake a bike ride, and I packed my fishing gear.

Because of the time change to standard time, I set a goal to be on the water fishing by 11AM, and Jane and I managed to adhere to this intention. As forecast, the weather was gorgeous with the only negative being intermittent wind, although I did not complain as I was fishing in a long sleeved shirt in November. It took me 45 minutes on my mountain bike to reach the Rattlesnake picnic pavilion .75 mile above the diversion dam, and I established this as my base camp. A Denver Water employee later informed Jane that this was the center of the bear activity! I removed my backpack and climbed into my waders and then assembled my Sage four weight.

Downstream View

I decided to walk down the road to the bridge that was nearby, but I quickly discovered another fisherman in the huge deep pool next to a picnic table above the bridge. I considered fishing downstream of the bridge, but when I peered over the guard rail, I noted that the water was covered in shadows, so I reversed my direction and headed for the nice long run and pool nearly across from the picnic area. I found a marginal path that led to the edge of the river and tied a tan Charlie boy hopper, beadhead hares ear, and ultra zug bug to my line.

Most of the water in this area was also covered in shadows except for a five foot band above me along the left bank. Unfortunately the water in sunlight was even more difficult to fish than the shaded portion because of the wicked glare. I began to prospect the bottom part of the pool, but I observed no signs of fish until I reached the top third. Despite the sharp glare on the water, I tossed a cast directly upstream and allowed the flies to drift through an attractive shelf pool. I decided to lift my rod to determine where the hopper was, and suddenly I felt weight and movement. I did a perfunctory hook set, and as I stripped in my line, I noticed a foul hooked brown trout thrashing on the end of the line.

Beautiful Rainbow Was First Fish

I was disappointed by this turn of events, but I was at least reassured to learn that trout did in fact continue to inhabit Waterton Canyon. Next I began to prospect a narrow but long slot that ran down the center of the run. A large boulder served as a current break, and then a thin slower moving ribbon of water extended down stream for 25 feet to just above another large submerged rock. I made five drifts with no result, but on the sixth a large dark shadowy figure emerged from the deep swirly area at the tail. As I watched, the fish moved slightly to its right, and I surmised that it snatched one of the nymphs, so I executed a swift lift of the rod. Suddenly the fish felt the sting of a hook, and it began to thrash and exert pressure on my line. I held tight, and within a minute I applied side pressure and guided a fourteen inch rainbow into my net. Needless to say, I was shocked by this turn of events, yet quite thankful as well.

I released the rainbow and moved upstream a bit, but the water was wide and shallow and quite marginal. I was slipping and slogging along the bank to reach a stretch of deep water that ran along a vertical rock wall, when Jane passed by on her bike. I shouted that I would be up to Rattlesnake for lunch, but she apparently did not hear me and continued on to the dam. Since I now had more time before I planned to break for lunch, I waded back to shore and then carefully worked my way downstream to a location where the river narrowed and created another deep run and several juicy pockets. I skipped around this spot when I climbed the bank and walked up the road, but now I had time to inspect it.

Unfortunately I was approaching from above, and the many shrubs and willows did not allow me to stay back from the low clear river that was running at 72 cfs. I gave it my best effort and focused on some deep runs on the opposite side, but my flies were ignored. By now I estimated that Jane might be at the picnic pavilion, so I found somewhat of an opening in the willows and climbed the steep bank. Sure enough Jane was seated at the table, and I joined her to eat my light lunch.

After lunch Jane decided to take a walk to the dam, and I accompanied her up the road until I reached the path that delivered me to the wide shallow area that was my farthest advance prior to lunch. I splashed upstream until I was across from the deep run that rushed along the tall vertical rock wall, but again the fish were not tuned into the three flies that I presented to them. I was about to advance upstream again, but as I turned and surveyed the river, I noticed another fisherman blocking my path. This was the same person who occupied the emerald pool above the bridge when I first started to fish.

I reversed my direction and climbed back to the road, and then I hiked back downstream toward the bridge. I paused at the deep emerald jewel pool and covered the attractive runs at the top with no success, and then I moved along the bank and fished some nice pockets between the pool and the bridge. I continued to see no signs of fish in the after lunch time period.

Since my upstream migration was blocked by another fisherman, my only option was to continue downstream below the bridge. This area was now engulfed in shadows as the sun was low in the southwest sky and blocked by some high hills on the western side of the canyon. I walked down the road for .3 miles until I found a place where I could safely negotiate the steep bank. The water in this area was quite attractive with a series of cascading deep runs and short pools, so I began tossing the dry/dropper combination to the likely fish holding spots. By now my Charlie boy hopper was quite saturated, and after three or four foot drifts, it sank. I decided to switch it for a more buoyant top fly and chose a chubby Chernobyl with an orange body. From below this fly actually looked like an adult stonefly. I was not interested in catching fish with my top fly; I simply wanted something that was very visible and that suspended the two beadhead nymphs effectively.

Decent Afternoon Brown Trout

The chubby Chernobyl did its job, as I landed two brown trout in the last hour of fishing. Both fish snapped up the hares ear nymph, as it drifted along several feet below the surface. After I released the second fish, I was faced with the prospect of fishing the last .2 mile to the bridge where the river executed a bend away from the road. There was no obvious path before the bridge, so I elected to call it a day. My original plan called for quitting at 2PM, which was really 3PM by daylight savings time, so I reeled up my flies and hooked the ultra zug bug to my rod guide. I climbed the steep bank and returned to the base camp via the road, and there I discovered Jane seated at the table and reading her Kindle.

Jane at the Rattlesnake Pavilion

We packed everything up and rolled down the road on our bikes at a fast pace while enjoying the gradual downhill. We did pause halfway back to the parking lot when we encountered a cluster of male bighorn sheep. The sheep put on quite a show for the gathering of photographers, walkers and bikers as the rams sniffed each other and then backed off and butted their horns. In one amazing display of toughness, two rams suddenly backed up and then cracked their horns forcefully. I was stunned by the loud crack that this encounter generated.

Major Head Butt

It was a slow day on the South Platte River, but I had a great time nonetheless. The weather was delightful, the scenery was spectacular, and the wildlife was very entertaining. Outdoor time in November is priceless, and Jane and I appreciated our day.

Time: 11:00AM – 4:00PM

Location: South Platte River

Fish Landed: 13

South Platte River 10/25/2015 Photo Album

It is getting late in the 2015 season, and my opportunities to fish are dwindling. When my friend, Danny, texted me on Saturday to ask what I was up to on Sunday, I leaped at the opportunity to register another fishing day. The weather forecast projected highs in the mid-60’s in Denver and sunny, so this influenced my decision to fish in a positive direction.

I picked up Danny at his new apartment in South Denver at 7AM, and we were off to the South Platte River. By the time we drove to our target destination and hiked the trail, we were positioned to begin fishing by 11AM. The temperature at the trailhead before we departed was 33 degrees, but the warming effects of a vigorous hike enabled me to shed my fleece layer after fifteen minutes. When we arrived at our base camp, I slipped back into my fleece, but this was adequate for my entire day on the river as the temperature probably warmed to the upper fifties.

Danny Reaches the Tenkara

Danny and I agreed to work along both sides of the river in parallel, so I elected the southeast side as it was away from the trail. I tied a tan Charlie boy hopper to my line, and then I added a salvation nymph, and on the third cast I hooked and landed a small brown trout. Danny meanwhile opted for a yellow Charlie boy hopper that supported an egg fly and a small midge larva that he designed. Danny chose to pack in his Tenkara rod, as it collapsed to the size of a very small wand to tote along the trail. I watched with interest as he cast the eleven foot long rod with a single fixed line that probably extended to fifteen feet. The Tenkara method proved to be very effective for Danny, as he could use the length of the rod to flick long casts to all the likely fish holding locations in the river. The extra reach and lack of fly line allowed nice drag free drifts, and with the flows at 73 cfs, being able to stay back and execute long distance casts was a significant advantage.

Ready to Cast

Dave Shows Off an Early Brown Trout

Meanwhile I progressed up the river casting my Sage four weight loaded with a traditional fly line and tapered leader, and I landed seven fish by 12:30 when I perched on a large midstream boulder and devoured my lunch. Seven fish in a hour and a half on October 25 was commendable, and I was quite pleased with my accomplishment, although Danny and his Tenkara wonder stick were playing havoc with the trout of the South Platte River to a much greater extent.

Same Fish, Different View

After lunch the action slowed, but I was pleased to land an additional six fish in the remaining time. The sun was directly above us with no cloud cover, so perhaps this explained the lull in action from 1 until 2:30. Danny and I continued to pick up fish, but the pace was much slower than our earlier experience. We also encountered another fisherman who was fifty yards above us, so this may have had an impact as well. The fly fishing gentleman appeared to carry two fly rods, as he moved quickly and paused only at places that were prime spots. Danny and I both conjectured that his upstream wading and movement produced a negative effect on our fishing success, but there was no way to prove this theory.

By 2:30 he was no longer visible, and we suspected that he either departed or moved a far distance above us. At any rate, the fishing improved in the later afternoon hours. In fact Danny was on fire, and although he did not count his fish, we were both certain that he exceeded twenty fish landed on the day.

I persisted with the Charlie boy and salvation nymph for most of the day, and nearly all my fish chomped the salvation. What a productive fly this attractor nymph has evolved into during 2015! I also experimented with a third fly in the afternoon and cycled through a soft hackle emerger, ultra zug bug, hares ear, and emerald caddis pupa. The ultra zug bug and hares ear delivered one fish each to my net, and the the other flies simply served as decorations on my line.

By 3:30 I reached the huge deep pool that bordered our base camp. I performed a feat of rock climbing in order to circumvent the huge vertical boulders that blocked my upstream migration, and once I was positioned above them, I began to lob short casts to the narrow shelf pool in front of me. This area did not yield any fish, so I decided to waste a couple casts in a short pocket no more than five feet long that was just above the shelf pool. On the first cast a fish rose and smacked the hopper, but I was only able to maintain contact for a split second. I was certain at this point that the only fish in this small area had been pricked, and that I was wasting my time to cast again, but I flicked another cast to the pocket nonetheless.

Held in the Water

The hopper paused, and I instinctively lifted my rod and set the hook on a feisty and chunky brown trout. I carefully maintained pressure on the fighter and guided it to my net and discovered a thirteen inch beauty. This was my largest fish of the day, and a very fine brown trout by South Platte River standards.

Nice Width on This Beauty

I was checking my flies and preparing to resume my quest for trout, when I heard Danny shout from his position at the midsection of the large pool on the base camp side of the river. I pivoted to observe, and saw him using his hand over hand retrieval method to guide a large fish to his net. He motioned me, and I could not hear what he was shouting, but I guessed he hoped I could join him to photograph his prize. I complied and carefully waded across the river and snapped a couple shots of Danny and the fourteen inch wide body rainbow trout. This proved to be the catch of the day, and Danny was quite pleased with his Tenkara prowess.

Fisherman and Fish

My nice brown trout was the eleventh catch of the day, and once my photographic duties were complete, I waded back to the southeast side of the river and resumed my progress. I managed to hook and land another small brown before I approached a nice deep pool with a foam current line seven feet out from the bank. I paused to observe and noticed several splashy rises along the foam. I ran my dry/dropper combination along the entire current line, but the fish were apparently tuned into something different, as they ignored my offering.

Base Camp Pool

I gave up on the area and moved upstream, but the shadows now extended across the river, and following my flies became quite a challenge. I had not seen Danny since the photo session, so I exited the river and hiked back down the path and spotted him in the same large base camp pool. Now that I was reassured that he was nearby, I retraced my steps on the path and entered the river across from the foam line pool. Since the dry/dropper was no longer delivering fish at a reasonable pace, I decided to experiment with a caddis dry fly. I tied an olive-brown deer hair caddis to my tippet and moved closer to the foam. Once I was satisfied with my stance, I fluttered some casts to the current seam and allowed the caddis to float toward the spot where I saw rises earlier. I could not see the caddis, but I clearly observed the three splashy refusals that were associated with my first three drifts.

I rested the area and flicked the caddis farther upstream and along the bank, but then I returned some casts to the area of rejection and elicited one more swat. I was not done yet, however, and I executed one more downstream drift, and on this pass I could clearly follow my fly. Just as it reached the nadir of the current seam, the fish rose and sipped my fly, and this provoked a swift hook set on my part. Alas, I felt weight for only a split second and then it was gone. Although I was frustrated by my inability to land this fish, I was at least pleased that I managed a take.

Smaller Left Channel

Danny was now across from me, and we were near the downstream point of a long narrow island that divided the river into two channels. The sun was still covering the left braid, and I could see a smooth pool near the bottom of the island. I asked Danny if I could work up the left channel, since I felt it was more conducive to my delicate single caddis adult approach. Unfortunately the caddis did not interest the fish despite the fact that I stayed back a good distance and executed some nice long distance casts. I abandoned the shallow smooth pool and moved upstream to a spot where I noticed two or three very subtle rises. The only food source I could see were tiny midges that hovered in sparse clouds over the river, so I decided to try a parachute hopper with a zebra midge dropper.

This tandem offering actually yielded a tiny rainbow trout that was below my six inch minimum, but that was the extent of my success. I quickly migrated upstream and stumbled on one additional spot where the water depth suggested that a fish might be present. Sure enough I flicked a very short cast to the small pocket, and a ten inch brown trout emerged and crushed the parachute hopper. This was my last success on the day, and with the temperature dropping and the shadows lengthening, I quickly waded to the top of the island and then crossed the river to the path and returned to Danny.

I suggested that we should begin our return hike, but Danny asked if he could work some very attractive runs between us. I looked on as Danny expertly maneuvered the Tenkara and landed a couple more brown trout. By now it was nearly 4:30, so Danny finally relented and climbed out of the river and spooled his long line, and then we began a vigorous hike back to the car.

It was a fun day on the South Platte River. I landed double digit trout late in October, and I was able to fish a dry/dropper combination most of the day. Best of all I enjoyed the companionship of my friend, and I introduced him to a new location, and he experienced one of his best days of the year. Hopefully I will register a few more decent days of fishing in 2015 before the winter storms force me to the fly tying bench.

Time: 11:30AM – 4:00PM

Location: South Platte River

Fish Landed: 51

South Platte River 10/08/2015 Photo Album

Sometimes all the elements combine to yield a nearly perfect day of fishing, and Thursday October 8 was one of those days. About the only ingredient missing from our trip to the South Platte River was large fish, but given the abundance of superb factors, I can accept this omission. During my last trek to this section of the South Platte, I lost my rod tip, and Jane and I spent an additional couple hours backtracking until we finally located it. I was hoping for redemption, and Thursday qualifies as double restitution.

Jane Sets Up Base Camp

Jane and I departed our house in Denver by 7:15, and unfortunately we were unable to avoid some heavy rush hour traffic in the tech center area of south Denver. Despite this momentary inconvenience we were able to arrive at the trailhead by 9:50, and we began our hike at 10:05. An hour and fifteen minute walk at a steady pace delivered us at our customary base camp location, and after Jane spread out her blanket, we continued along the path to my entry point. I began above my usual starting point since I hoped to fish upstream beyond the base camp; something I usually fall short of.

Looking Good at 103 CFS

The flows were 103 cfs, and this level is nearly ideal. The moderate current allowed me to move freely about the river, however, the water was deep enough so that the fish were not overly skittish. The air temperature was in the upper forties when I began fishing, and it probably never peaked above sixty-five. I was comfortable during my entire time on the river under the bright sun and clear blue skies except for one brief period when some large clouds rolled in and blocked the sun’s rays.

I hoped to fish upstream along the left bank since it is away from the path, and I embrace the theory that the fish opposite a path or road are less pressured. Unfortunately the shadows and difficult light during the late morning period caused me to fish the right bank and the center of the river until I broke for lunch at 12:30. I began with a Charlie Boy hopper and hares ear nymph on 2.5 foot dropper, and almost instantly had a ten inch brown trout in my net. This fish tied me with the 2014 cumulative fish count, and shortly thereafter I hooked another comparable brown to surpass last year.

An Early Success Story

During the late morning and early afternoon time frame, I worked my way upstream and landed thirteen brown trout before exiting and returning to base camp for lunch. What an auspicious start to a gorgeous fall day! After lunch Jane walked down the path with me to my exit point before lunch, and she watched me and took photos as I resumed my quest for fish. Of course while she watched, I struggled to land even a small fish, so I added another one foot section of tippet to the hares ear, and tied on a second nymph…a beadhead salvation nymph.

Some Fat on This Brown

Boom. This addition was instantly successful, and as Jane looked on, I landed a couple small browns. She commented that I made it look too easy. The remainder of the afternoon was pure joy, as I advanced up the river beyond the base camp and landed another thirty-eight trout. The salvation nymph was the main producer during the early afternoon, but the hares ear came on strong in the late time period. At 1PM I began to notice blue winged olives, and this coincided with an incident when I lost the salvation in the process of photographing and releasing a fish. Consequently I used replacing the salvation as an opportunity to test a blue winged olive soft hackle emerger.

After a brief test I concluded that the soft hackle emerger did not perform on par with the salvation, and I returned the attractor nymph to its previous position at the tip of my three fly arrangement. The slow deep pools were not producing, so I stopped wasting time in that type of water and moved directly to the head of each pool where deep runs and riffles entered. These locations along with pocket water yielded nearly all of my fish on Thursday. Many of the fish were hooked during the lift at the end of the drift as well as during the swing, when I cast from the side and allowed the flies to drift across and then below me.

Same Rainbow Held Above the Net Briefly

The most memorable fish was a thirteen inch rainbow. I dropped a cast into a narrow frothy slot at the very top of a deep trough in the middle of the river. Suddenly a mouth appeared below the hopper, and I reacted with a solid hook set. Quickly I discovered a rainbow attached to my line, as it streaked up and down the river and put up a noble fight. Eventually it tired, and I scooped the irate silver football with my net. This was the only fish of the day that slurped the hopper imitation, even though the Charlie boy was in place as my top indicator fly all day long.

Huge Black Spots on This Brown Trout

In summary many of the fish landed were in the six to nine inch range with ten or so extending to ten and eleven inches. In addition I landed three that measured a foot or more in length. Admittedly these were relatively small trout, but I thrived on the fast paced nonstop action that accompanies landing a large quantity of fish in four and a half hours. As to species I landed only three rainbows, and the remainder were brown trout. I do not have an explanation of why certain species seem to predominate at different times of the year.

Obviously I desired more size, but it was a blast moving quickly upstream and popping casts to all the likely spots and more often than not connecting with a wild fish. I was in a beautiful remote location under blue skies and sunshine with pleasant temperatures. My lovely wife accompanied me, and no other human beings were nearby to disrupt our outdoor adventure. The wild trout were plentiful and willing to eat flies that I created myself. It seemed that every nook of water that might yield a fish, did in fact produce. Sure I would have liked a few larger fish, but this degree of success on October 8 is something I am thankful for.

A Glow Over the South Platte

Time: 12:30PM – 5:30PM

Location: South Platte River

Fish Landed: 26

South Platte River 08/28/2015 Photo Album

All is well that ends well. The real hero of this story is my lovely wife, Jane, who converted a potential day of frustration into one of the better outings of the season.

The story begins with my trip to the Elk River in British Columbia. While there Jake Chutz of Montana Fly Company convinced me to purchase some Simms neoprene wading booties for wet wading during hot summer days. I tried them out on the East Fork of Brush Creek, but I was not totally sold on the concept because my bare legs were exposed to thistles and thorns, and I needed to reapply sunscreen often to compensate for getting in and out of the water repeatedly. In order to overcome these negatives, I purchased a pair of quick dry pants that can be converted to shorts. I anticipated that using the pants in combination with the wading booties would make wet wading an enjoyable method of fishing Colorado streams.

One of my favorite areas to fish is the South Platte River, where I am required to hike for three miles from the trailhead to the river. As I was anxious to experiment with my new wet wading set up, I felt that this would be a perfect test. On previous trips I lugged my waders, wading boots, rod, reel, and fishing pack in a regular backpack. The three mile hike with a heavy load put significant stress on my neck, shoulders and back; and after a day of fishing, the three mile return was quite taxing. For this reason I only made the trek one or two times a year, as I needed a month or two for the tiresome aspect of the experience to fade from my memory.

Sun and Mist

With my new fishing apparel purchases, I could hike to the river in my wading boots and quick dry pants, and the only equipment I would need to carry on my back would be my normal fishing backpack which contained water and a raincoat. I decided to evaluate my new hike-in summer fishing approach on Friday August 28, and my wife, Jane, decided to accompany me.

The trailhead for this South Platte venture is two hours and fifteen minutes from our home in Denver, and the hike generally adds another one hour and fifteen minutes. In order to allow myself to begin fishing by mid-morning, I like to camp near the river the night before. Jane and I adhered to this plan by making the drive on Thursday, and we stopped for dinner along the way and then set up our tent before dark.

A Rocky Section with More Mist

The flows in the section of the river that I wished to fish were 157 CFS. This is a bit high, but I fished the area at 180 CFS several years ago with excellent results, so I was actually optimistic that the fishing would be good. Also above normal flows are a welcome change from the normal low clear difficult conditions present on most Colorado streams in late August. Everything seemed to be falling in place for a fun fishing trip to the South Platte River.

On Friday morning after eating breakfast and packing our camping gear, we arrived at the trailhead by 9AM. I was already attired in my quick dry pants, so after I pulled on my wading booties and boots and completed all my normal preparations for a day of fishing, we began our hike. I assembled my Sage four weight four piece rod, but I did not string the line because I do not normally do that until I arrive at the stream so I can observe the water before deciding on what flies to use. We hiked for a couple miles with Jane setting the pace, and I became annoyed with constantly getting my rod entangled in low overhead branches. Also I tended to gain on Jane and came close to tapping her with the rod several times, so I decided to reverse the position of my rod and began holding it with the tip facing backwards.

We arrived at the river by 10AM and established a base camp, and then Jane walked down the path with me for another .5 mile to the point where I planned to enter the river. I gave my camera to Jane so she could record my maiden entry into the cold river with my wet wading uniform. I stopped at the edge of the river while Jane looked on and began to string my rod with the fly line. When I reached the tip section, my jaw dropped, and my facial expression made an abrupt shift from anxious anticipation to deep gloom. A tip section was no longer present on my rod! My first concern was the cost of buying another tip section for my rod, but rather quickly this shifted to the anger and frustration that results from the sudden shattering of all plans for a day of fishing on one of my favorite remote stretches of Colorado water.

We had camped in order to be on the water early, so I could maximize my fishing time to compensate for the arduous hike. I purchased the wading booties and quick dry pants to test, and now that was in jeopardy as well. What could I do besides cry? As usual Jane was the voice of reason. She suggested that we retrace our steps back to the base camp and carefully look for the rod tip along the way. If we did not find it by the time we arrived at the base camp, we would need to hike back along the entry trail and look for it along the way. The worst case scenario resulted in our return to the car to pick up my spare tip, and then we could return to the river to fish. We were retired and had all day, so if I needed to fish later to make up for lost time in the morning, that would be the answer.

I meanwhile was in the depths of despair. I was mourning the loss of my rod tip and convinced that my carefully planned day of fishing was ruined as well. We began the process laid out by Jane, but the rod tip did not appear along the trail between my planned fishing entry point and the base camp. When we arrived at the base, I shed all my fishing gear except my wading staff which now morphed into a walking stick. We commenced a slow walk along the trail we had just covered. Before we reached the point where the trail veers away from the river, we encountered a couple on their way in from the trailhead. We asked if they noticed any rod tips, but they both replied no, but they really were not looking for one. Of course my first thought was that they probably stepped on it and crushed it.

We continued up the steep ascent away from the river. Jane suggested that I could move ahead at a faster pace while she moved at a slower methodical rate, but I was concerned that she might find it and have no way to communicate this information to me, so we stayed together. We covered roughly one and half miles from the base camp when Jane suddenly cried, “There it is!” I was in disbelief, but I turned and looked back, and she held the fragile fly rod tip in her hand. Even more amazing was the fact that I walked past the very rock where she found the rod tip, and I never saw it. The decision to not separate was now looking quite fortuitous. Jane handed me the rod section and suggested that I could now return at a faster pace, since she knew how anxious I was to fish.

The Found Rod Tip

I hustled back along the trail to our base camp and decided to eat my lunch since it was now approaching noon. Just as I finished lunch, Jane arrived and agreed to once again walk to the entry point and take a photo. We repeated the entire process, and this time we followed it through to completion. I entered the river with all four sections of my rod in place, and then I knotted a Chernobyl ant, beadhead hares ear and salvation nymph to my line. I thanked Jane for finding my rod tip and accompanying me on this adventure, and I turned my attention to fishing. I lost a couple hours, but at least I was now in a position to salvage some fun from a day that I prematurely wrote off.

Dave’s First Attempt at Wet Wading with Quick Dry Pants

I worked my way upstream methodically casting the dry/dropper trio for thirty minutes, but no fish responded. I was beginning to seethe with frustration since I suffered through many trials and tribulations to get to this point, and now the fish were not cooperating. But once again I was being overly pessimistic, and finally a ten inch brown trout grabbed the salvation nymph at the tail of a deep pocket. I was on the board, and the remainder of the day would raise my spirits and justify the long hike and search. The river was too high to safely cross to the opposite bank, so I continued working along the west side. This necessitated many backhand casts which created wear and tear on seldom used shoulder and back muscles. In addition I was not as accurate, and more nasty snarls resulted from backhand casts and three flies.

Nice Pocket Water Section

Despite these hassles I persisted, and between 1:00PM and 3:30PM I landed sixteen trout on the three fly system that I began with. All the landed fish were brown trout, and quite a few were in the twelve to thirteen inch range, and they displayed vivid spots over a silvery gold background. This was the fishing that I worked so hard for. I love moving quickly and popping three to five casts to likely areas, and the fish were rewarding me frequently by snatching the trailing salvation or hares ear.

Nice Vivid Spots on This Wild Brown

By 3:30 I reached a nice long pool, but the deep areas were not delivering fish on Friday, so I climbed to the path and circled around to the faster run that fed the pool. As I was doing this I ran into Jane, who was cautiously walking toward me to confirm my well being and progress. I could see the large rock across from the base camp, so I told her I planned to fish to that point, and then I would quit, and we would commence the long return hike.

One of the Better Brown Trout

When I re-entered the river I spotted quite a few tiny blue winged olives floating up from the surface, so I removed the salvation nymph and replaced it with a RS2. For the next two hours I worked upstream to the base camp pool and landed ten more fish. Unlike the early afternoon, two rainbows landed in my net, and these were probably my best fish on the day. Both the rainbows sipped the RS2, but the hares ear continued to outproduce the smaller nymph. During this time I also experienced two awful tangles, and quite a few long distance releases. I attribute the higher rate of momentary hook ups to the tiny size 20 hook contained in the RS2.

The Second Rainbow

At 5:30PM I reached the base camp and prepared for the return trip. We departed by 6PM and reached the Santa Fe by 7:15PM. The wet wading experiment worked out well, as I felt comfortable for the entire afternoon except for a few occasions when some large clouds blocked the sun, and some wind kicked up. Overall however it worked well and cut down greatly on the weight on my back and the associated neck and shoulder strain. We stopped at a brew pub on the way home and enjoyed craft brews and a delicious late dinner. Even this did not begin to repay Jane for salvaging my fishing day on August 28. Perhaps the best gift for Jane was the absence of whining and complaining that would have occurred should I have lost the rod tip and missed a day of fishing. Jane is one of a kind, and I cannot thank her enough. All is well that ends well.

Time: 10:00AM – 3:30PM

Location: Cheesman Canyon from Jamboree Pool upstream

Fish Landed: 3

South Platte River 05/26/2015 Photo Album

While Jane and I were enjoying gorgeous spring weather in the Carolinas; rain, snow and cold continued to be the norm in Colorado. I did not even bother to check stream flows or fishing reports for the first six days after we returned, but then I received a text message from my new fishing pal, Danny Ryan. Danny informed me that the South Platte River in Cheesman Canyon was reputedly fishing very well with San Juan worms, scuds, eggs and leeches. These are the typical high performing flies when flows increase dramatically, and that was the case in Cheesman Canyon.

I checked the stream flows and discovered they were at 1,160 cfs. Another fishing report stated that the above normal rain filled Cheesman Dam, and water was spilling over the top. Despite these leading indicators of difficult fishing, I agreed to a trip with Danny on Tuesday, May 26. We managed an early start and arrived at the Gill Trailhead parking lot by 9AM. As we drove along the South Platte River between Nighthawk and Deckers, I was disheartened to see very high flows and brown murky water conditions. Above the town of Deckers and Horse Creek, the water color improved to pea green.

The small stream that flows from the parking lot into the South Platte near the Wigwam Club was swollen to twenty times its normal size, and it also was carrying a significant amount of silt. Danny and I set off on our thirty minute hike to the canyon, and as we crested the rim, we gazed down upon the river below. Clearly the flows were high, but the clarity of the river was much improved over what we observed near Deckers above Horse Creek, We were both encouraged by this revelation, but I remained somewhat concerned about our ability to land some fish from the abundance of water.

Normally a Placid Pool

We continued hiking along the river for quite a distance until we arrived at the pool that spreads out below some huge boulders that are positioned in the middle of the river. On this day of flows in excess of 1,000 cfs, the pool was more akin to a deep run with a large shelf eddy on our side of the river. I began my fishing experiment with a conehead pine squirrel leech and a bright pink San Juan worm and began to drift these morsels through the deep slow moving eddies and sloughs created by current breaks.

Looking Across

I endured thirty minutes of fruitless casting until I reached the eddy above the huge boulder described above. Here I actually cast downstream and allowed the subsurface offerings to drift back toward me in a large eddy, and on the fifth such pass, the indicator dipped and I set the hook. It did not take me long to strip a small nine inch rainbow in to my net. It wasn’t a very exciting catch, but I at least eliminated the possibility of a skunking.

We moved on along the north bank of the river and played leap frog between ourselves as well as with another personable fishermen who joined the fray in our area. We skipped the water between Cow Crossing and re-entered at Rainbow Bend. When I rejoined Danny, I discovered that he had some fantastic success as he landed two large rainbows near our starting point on one of his red San Juan worms.

With this news I replaced the pink worm with a red version, but eventually I broke off both the leech and worm on an underwater snag despite using 3X and 4X tippet sections. By 11:45 I was feeling quite hungry, so I found a nice rock to rest on while I ate my lunch. Danny continued to cast relentlessly as I watched him from my perch.

Danny Makes Some Drifts

After lunch I decided to change things up a bit, and I knotted a Cathy’s super bugger to the top position, and then below that I tied on a red San Juan worm. I picked up the pace and began moving more frequently until we encountered the gentlemen that unofficially became part of our leap frogging progression. We exchanged information, and he revealed that he landed a nice brown trout on a green scud. I did not have many light olive or green scuds in my fleece pocket, but I did have five orange scuds, and many years ago these performed quite well during the high water of May. I decided to give one a try. In addition I swapped the woolly bugger for an egg sucking leech with a hot orange bead head.

A 17-18 Inch Ranbow

This move proved to be quite fortuitous, and in short order I hooked a medium sized rainbow at the tail of a long deep run next to the bank. Unfortunately the feisty fish managed to elude my hook after a brief battle. I took a few steps up along the bank and fished the middle portion, and once again a fish tugged my thingamabobber below the surface. A swift hook set ensued, and once again I found myself connected to a fish; however this time it proved to be a large combatant. The fish thrashed near the surface and revealed itself to be a large rainbow, and after several powerful runs, I applied side pressure and maneuvered it to a spot along the bank where Danny swooped his long handled net beneath. This fine pink-sided fish deserved more attention, and I snapped a few photos while Danny steadied it in his net.

U-Turn When It Spotted Me

Two fish grabbed the orange scud in a short amount of time, so I was now convinced I stumbled into an effective fly for high water conditions in late May on the South Platte River. With renewed enthusiasm I forged ahead and worked my nymphs in all the likely slow pockets and eddies that I could reach. I continued to move more quickly than the morning, and this approach brought me to a short eddy behind a large exposed boulder. I was skeptical that this spot would produce a fish, but I decided to allocate three casts to the area. The first two were fruitless as the indicator hovered in a dead spot in the middle of the eddy behind the rock, but I allowed the third cast to drift back upstream toward the rock. When I became concerned that the flies were getting snagged under the rock, I gave my rod a lift and instantly felt throbbing weight on the other end.

Out of the Net

Another fish put up a spirited battle, but this one decided to dive and shake in the manner of a brown trout. Sure enough when I raised my rod and leveraged the fighter to my net, I gazed at a wild fourteen inch brown trout that also savored the orange scud. I found Danny and gave him one of the orange scuds, and then we continued to move along the Gill Trail toward the upper sections of the South Platte River.

One Final Attempt

Danny Displays His Catch

Unfortunately, the hot streak of orange scud feeders ended, and Danny and I continued for another hour with no activity. We realized that we were approaching the end of the trail, and consequently we faced a lengthy return hike, so we decided to make our exit. As we hiked back along the trail, we returned to a nice long deep run where Danny foul hooked a brown trout during the early afternoon. He decided to give it another try, so we paused and he added a pink San Juan worm to his line. On the seventh drift through this attractive stretch of water, his indicator paused, and he set the hook. His six weight rod throbbed but after a tough battle, he landed a handsome fourteen inch brown with thick shoulders. This was a fitting end to our day in Cheesman.

Time: 11:30AM – 2:00PM

Location: Downstream of Nighthawk at Whale Rock

Fish Landed: 0

South Platte River 02/14/2015 Photo Album

I pulled my dark olive Columbia fishing shirt off the hanger and eagerly slipped my arms through the sleeves and buttoned the front. The high in Denver was projected to be 65 degrees, and I anxiously anticipated my first fishing outing of 2015. My Valentine, Jane, agreed to accompany me to the South Platte River near Nighthawk, but before we left, Jane observed that my fishing shirt was excessively wrinkled. I responded that I was not about to waste valuable fishing time to iron a fishing shirt. Jane replied that the fish care, and I was disadvantaging myself in the battle to land my first fish of the season.

Wrinkled Fishing Shirt

Off we went with a chair for Jane and our lunches packed, and in my case guarded optimism that I could land a fish to kick off my new season. I checked the flows in the South Platte River below Cheesman Reservoir, and they were at a low level of 116 cfs. The combination of low clear flows, bright blue skies, typical cold water temperatures of February and the lack of significant insect activity caused me to be cautious in my expectations.

Ready for First Fishing Outing of 2015

When we reached the South Platte River at the base of Nighthawk Hill my hopes were further eroded by the significant number of vehicles parked in all the designated pullouts along the river. Fishermen were everywhere, and I was headed to the less popular lower river. The prime catch and release water between Scraggy View and Deckers must have been like opening day back east with fishermen lining the river.

I tossed aside my concerns and assembled my new replacement Orvis Access four weight rod and then pulled my head through the loop of my new Fishpond front pack. My fleece pouch was sufficiently stocked with San Juan worms, eggs, and tiny nymphs so I set out on my quest for trout number one. As I slid down the path toward the river several fishermen ambled past me along the shoulder of the dirt road. I rarely saw fisherman below me in this spot on the South Platte, so the parade of fishermen did not bode well.

Wading into the South Platte River

I began casting a nymphing rig with a strike indicator, beadhead hares ear and zebra midge to the nice bend pool where I had much success in previous first time outings, but Valentine’s Day 2015 was not going to be one of those experiences. I did not add a split shot to my set up as the flows were quite low, and I determined that the two beadheads would sink the flies sufficiently. After striking out in my ace in the hole bend pool, I moved upstream and worked a solid deep run along the far bank. The sky was a disappointing slate gray and the air temperature hovered at 42 degrees. These were not the balmy premature spring conditions that caused me to schedule this mid-winter venture.

A Prospecting Cast

I moved on to a channel on the south side of an island and worked some deep riffles to no avail and then returned to find Jane bundled up in a chair across from the bend pool. We agreed to retreat to the car to pick up our lunches, and then returned to our spot across from the bend pool. As we munched our lunches, we watched two fishermen thirty yards below us futilely flail the river with numerous hopeful casts.

After lunch I crossed the river to the west bank and then hiked downstream through some tall grass and ponderosa pines, but as I began to cut back to the river, I spotted another fisherman wearing a red ball cap in the area just above the white water cascade. This was the area I was targeting, so I made a right turn and cut back to the river halfway between the red cap gentleman and the fishermen below Jane’s reading spot.

Headed for the Rock Jumble after Lunch

I swapped out the beadhead hares ear for a pink San Juan worm and worked the deep runs and side pools, but once again I was met with disappointment. By the time I reached the point where a fisherman covered the water during our lunch, he had departed, so I explored the area from the opposite side. I exchanged the zebra midge for a RS2, and in a deep side pool I finally observed a trout dashing for cover after my third or fourth cast failed to attract interest.

I was now feeling quite bored with the winter fishing and my lack of success, so I crossed the river and approached Jane. We decided to move to another spot farther up the river, so Jane drove the Santa Fe, and dropped me off along the dirt road just above the next parking area. She continued to the next pullout, and I promised to fish to her position, and then we would begin our return trip to Denver. I thoroughly worked the rocky stretch of river next to the road with my worm and RS2, and again my rod did not feel the throb of a resisting fish.

One of My Favorite Stretches Was Unproductive

When I reached the top of the deep run, a white pick up truck appeared on the road above me, and a DOW agent greeted me and asked to see my fishing license. I struggled to open the zippered pockets in my wader bib, but upon inspection, I could not find my Colorado fishing license. The gentleman was nice enough to transport me upstream to the parking area where Jane parked the Santa Fe, and I found her by the edge of the river reading. She threw the keys to me, and I found my drivers’ license and presented it to the DOW agent. He politely accepted it and told me he would radio one of his other agents who was in cell range, and then that person could use the on board computer to check the database for my license.

After a five minute wait I was relieved to hear that the chain of connections worked, and he determined that I was a licensed fisherman. Later when I returned home, I found my license in my fishing backpack in my fishing bag. I had it with me in the car, but I did not have it on the stream. This was the most exciting aspect of my Valentine’s Day fishing trip.

If you ask Jane, she will tell you that I was skunked because I did not iron my fishing shirt. I, on the other hand, attribute my lack of success to the density of fishermen combined with low clear water conditions. One certainty however remains. I will not stoop to ironing my fishing shirts.