/Time: 10:30AM – 3:30PM
Location: Upstream from South Fork Campground
South Fork of the White River 09/16/2022 Photo Album
A year ago I fly fished the South Fork and enjoyed one of the most spectacular days of 2021. In fact, it was one of the best days of my life. On Friday, September 16 I revisited the same Flattops gem. I did not expect a repeat, but I also could not predict the adventure that unfolded.
My Destination
The sky was very foreboding, as I assembled my Sage R8 four weight. Knowing that I would perspire on my entry hike, I stuffed my raincoat in my fishing backpack. This left me with a quick-dry undershirt, fishing shirt, and light down parka. After a mile of exertion, I was beginning to sweat, and light rain commenced. I paused under a large evergreen for shelter, and removed all my layers, and then dressed again for the impending weather conditions. I began with my fishing shirt next to my skin, and then my light down parka, and finally my raincoat. The move was timely, as it began to rain steadily, and the raincoat contained my body heat; thus, accelerating my perspiration. It rained so hard for a fifteen minute period, that I once again sought the shelter of a large evergreen.
Goodbye Noble Buddy
Tough Fight
By 10:30 I reached my chosen starting point, and the rain subsided to a steady light downpour. I began fishing with a tan size 8 pool toy hopper, a prince nymph and a salvation nymph. I reviewed my post from 2021, and these flies delivered outstanding success, so why not attempt to repeat the magic? It was not long before a twelve inch rainbow smacked the pool toy, but in the process of landing the zealous fighter, the trout created a monster snarl. I was forced to cut off all the flies and essentially start over with my rig.
Pretty Aspen Grove Still Green
The Prize I Was Seeking
Between 10:30AM and noon I landed four trout including a brightly colored and chunky fourteen inch rainbow, but the catch rate lagged 2021, and I developed a severe chill while fishing through steady rain. The air temperature, when I began my hike was 44 degrees, and I checked it before lunch only to discover a modest increase to 48 degrees. During the heaviest period of rain the wind kicked up, and I was forced to address another massive monofilament snarl. Once again I snipped off all three flies, but this time I extended the main dropper below the hopper by a foot to four feet. At least I thought I did. When I began attaching my flies, the long dropper was nowhere to be found, so I uncoiled another four foot length. I was feeling bad about unknowingly littering four feet of 4X, but just as I staged my line to cast, guess what I found wrapped around my fly line? It was the recently missing extended four foot section. I coiled it as best I could and stuffed it in my wader bib pocket for potential later use. As the reader will note, I spent a disproportionate amount of time tending to line issues, and this circumstance along with the weather partially explained my low morning fish count.
So Clear
Take Two
Meanwhile, I was beginning to exhibit a slight shiver, so I stripped down to my bare chest and pulled on the quick-dry undershirt and swapped the sweat drenched fishing shirt back to my backpack. This exchange along with food and pulling down my earflaps allowed me to outlast the rain, but the thought of hiking back to the car surfaced in my brain several times. I stayed with the same three fly configuration for most of my remaining time, although I experimented briefly with an amber ice dub pool toy, an iron sally, a 20 incher, and a go2 caddis pupa. None of the trial flies yielded results.
Head Shot
During the afternoon I improved the fish count to fourteen. Of course, there were some six and seven inch tiddlers, but I also added four robust rainbows and cutbows in the thirteen to fifteen inch range. I also experienced my share of long distance releases, and several of them were respectable fish in the same thirteen to fifteen inch range.
I was considering an end to my day, as I was stuck on fourteen, when I snagged three flies in a dead limb due to a lack of awareness. It was just plain stupid fishing, but I suspected that I could pull on my line and bend the branch down enough to unravel the errant flies. This was not a sure thing, but I thought three flies deserved the effort. I pulled the branch down and broke it off, but my right foot, which supported most of my weight, slipped, and I sat back in some relatively deep current next to an exposed boulder. The ice cold water rushed over the top of my waders, and I was in a state of shock and anger. This episode made my decision to quit a no brainer, and I immediately sloshed back to the car over a considerable distance. Of course, the trail was a slick muddy quagmire that was chewed up by pack horses and hunters. When I eventually dumped my waders in the parking lot, I spilled two quarts from each foot.
Left Center Was the Place to Be
On the plus side, I landed five gorgeous wild rainbows and cutbows in the thirteen to fifteen inch range, and these robust South Fork trout were some of the hardest fighting fish of that size that I encountered. Given my chill early and late and the dunking, I am not sure the effort justified the results. 2022 was a far cry from 2021, but I will likely give the South Fork another chance in the future, if my health permits.
Fish Landed: 14