Fishing Our Way Home II

We spent the night in Dillon, met our guide at the fly shop the next morning, and headed to the river.

It was an absolutely gorgeous fall day, but despite our guide's best efforts, the fishing didn't match the day. Pretty water, but not a lot of trout were found, and those that were found were less than giant sized. That's the way fishing is sometimes!

We drifted by some pretty real estate also.

By the end of the drift, we were less concerned about fishing the Big Hole and more interested in whether we would have time to visit Poindexter one more time before we headed to Missoula that night. We got off the river late, and by the time we were back to the fly shop and our car, it was about 45 minutes to sundown. No problem. We made it to Poindexter about 30 minutes before sunset, and there were several cars in the lot. Grabbing our rods we practically ran downstream and started fishing the later part of the run we had fished the previous night. With dark approaching fast, we speed-fished, hopscotching each other up the stream searching for the most willing fish. We found a few but not like the night before. Voices distantly heard from upstream and fresh bootprints in the mud made us think we were probably fishing behind someone. As dark approached, we hit fresh water and had a little last flurry of action. Then it was sadly time to leave Poindexter so we could get to our hotel and get a little sleep before our final day fishing our way home.

We decided to give head home by way of Nunya (all roads lead to Nunya when Tom and I are together). It being a Saturday, and arriving midday, we were not sure what we we would find. Bad news. Several vehicles, a couple guys camped and getting ready to head out fishing said there were two other groups already out. Not what we were hoping for. But resourceful brothers that we are, we found our way to a part of the stream free from fisherman and found some rainbows that matched the browns we had found in Poindetxter.

Nice Nunya bows

Beautiful fish

That's a Montana-sized smile!

After a couple hours, we decided to call it a day. While I wouldn't say we were tired of fishing after more than a week, we were satisfied enough to be able to head for home with big smiles and no regrets.

Fishing Our Way Home

Dover had to spend time with his wife on her birthday, Rob was meeting his wife, but Tom and I were free to take a couple days to get home. We chose to head home via Dillon, Montana. We drove to Idaho Falls Wednesday night, then arose early for the fairly short drive to Dillon, where we visited a local fly shop to get information, to buy some flies, and to set up a guided trip for the next day. We were directed to Poindexter Slough, a nearby side channel/spring creek adjacent to the Beaverhead River. We arrived mid-morning and tried fishing some of the funky ways that the shop had suggested, without success. With some fish rising, we soon were fishing hoppers right against the grassy banks.

Poindexter Slough browns

Yup, that was better. Tom caught two nice browns slurping hoppers, and I missed a couple. We ran out of water, and wanted to give the Big Hole a try, so we left with the idea in our minds that we might come back and give it another shot in the evening. The first place we stopped on the Big Hole was a dud. The second place we found a couple fish above the bridge. My first was a native Montana grayling, a surprise to me when I brought it in.

Native Montana grayling from the Big Hole

Tom worked upstream, found some small ones in a side channel, and was surprised by a 17-incher. We continued upstream, but fish were either not there or not willing. With evening fast approaching and the fishing in the Big Hole less than stellar, we bailed and hoped to catch the last few minutes of daylight at Poindexter Slough. Arriving about 45 minutes before sunset, we walked downstream about 15 minutes and started fishing back. We were in the same water we fished in the morning, but  with low light and our confidence in the hoppers, the results were much different. We took turns, one fishing until a fish was caught, then yielding the hole to the other. We were never waiting more than a few minutes for a turn. We raised a fish at almost every bank, big fat browns, feeding on our hoppers with reckless abandon.

An average sized Poindexter brown

We like this place!

We came to a bank where I had missed one in the morning. I pointed to a large tuft of grass and told Tom I was going to pick one up there. First cast upstream, it drifted down, and was grabbed by a nice brown at the exact spot where I had missed it earlier in the day. The light was fading fast, but the fishing wasn't slowing down. We had each landed more than a half dozen fish, all big, fat brown up to 20-inches. In the twilight, Tom broke his fly off in a fish and decided to call it a day. I continued fishing, and caught a couple more, mostly by sound rather than sight.

Yes, it was pretty much that dark when we quit

At the last hole at a railroad bridge where we would get out, I heard a splash and missed one on the left, cast into the middle, another splash and another miss. After a couple more casts, I sensed a problem and sure enough, found the last splash had also taken my fly. With it pretty much full dark, phone flashlights were very helpful, and as we climbed out of the stream and walked back to the car, we marveled at the amazing hour we had just had. An evening like that is something special that you just hope will happen again sometime. Maybe tomorrow night...

Utah Cutthroat Slam II - Day 5

With the slam complete, we bid farewell to Duchesne and fished our way home, starting at the Strawberry in town, where we all found a few more fish, then up below Starvation Dam, where to landed a fat 18-inch brown and lost a monstrous one right below the dam. I found a couple small ones, but that was it. We decided to give the Weber a try on the way home, but first made a stop at my favorite beaver dams, where I caught a dozen nice cutts in several ponds, while Tom and Dover fished another.

Pretty fish from a series of small beaver ponds

We found the Weber with many fisherman, even though it was mid-week, and a squall was blowing in, but we found an open access and gave it a try. I had one 15-inch or so rainbow come up and slash at a bugger, but I think that was about it with our fairly brief stop. No fish at the last stop, but we had plenty of memories and fish from this week together. We'll have to do this again!

Utah Cutthroat Slam II - Day 4

Today was the day for Rob, Tom, and Dover to close out their slams. We would be fishing another south slope stream, Yellowstone Creek, on the National Forest land. The creek was reported to have not only Colorado River cutts, but also rainbows, brooks, and browns, giving us the chance for a different kind of slam, catching all four species of trout in the same stream.

After breakfast at Cowan's (really good pancakes!), we headed north towards the mountains, winding through hills and flatland dotted with oil rigs pumping crude from the ground, a sight that is common everywhere around Duchesne. Arriving at Yellowstone Creek, we found a crystal clear mountain stream in a beautiful forest setting. While Rob and Dover were still getting ready back at the truck, Tom cast into the first run we arrived at, and pulled out a beautiful Colorado River cutt to complete his slam.

Tom starts the day completing his slam on almost his first cast

Beautiful Colorado River cutt

If this was any indication, this was going to be an easy end to the slam, and a great day of fishing. But things are never that easy. I thought we had agreed to walk down a ways, then fish up, so went downstream a bit to a good looking hole while Rob and Dover finished getting ready. By the time I finished fishing the water down below (finding a couple rainbows and a brook), I realized the other three had headed upstream, so I just kept fishing down. I found pretty water, and some fish, but not in spectacular numbers. Missed quite a few beside. By the time I turned around to head back to the starting point, I had three of the four species I needed for the trout slam.

Rick Colorado River cutt is not quite as impressive as Tom's

My nicest rainbow from the several I caught in Yellowstone Creek

A decent brookie from a stream

The high hopes from Tom's first run did not continue for the upstream boys, who worked hard to find a Colorado River cutt for Rob.

Rob completes his slam with a Colorado Cutthroat from Yellowstone Creek

By the time they hit the upstream dam, Dover was still cutt-less. We took a break in the pool above the dam, where we found nothing but rainbows, then headed downstream to try and find a cutt for Dover.

Dover finds rainbows, but no cutts

Starting near the campground where two channels came together, Tom fished with Mike up one channel while Rob and I fished up the other. Tom was polite, letting Mike fish the water first, and Mike was not polite, catching rainbow after rainbow after rainbow. Rob and I found similar action up the right hand channel. A lot more fish here than where we had been upstream. I even pulled out a small brown to complete my four-species slam! (Tom also achieved the four-species slam today)

A little brown completes the four-species slam for Rick

By the time we got to where the channels split, we had caught a bunch of fish, but still no cutt for Dover. And just a little ways upstream, we came to a National Forest boundary with barbed wire across the stream marking private land (that is just wrong!). So we turned around and headed for my backup plan, the South Fork of Rock Creek, a tributary upstream of where we had fished yesterday. It comes in just below Upper Stillwater Dam, an impressive structure that captures water to transport to the thirsty Wasatch Front farmers and cities.

Upper Stillwater Dam (courtesy of Wikipedia)

The gravel road winding through the forest from the dam rose quickly, such that the small stream was far below in a steep canyon. The map showed the road crossing a couple miles upstream, so we knew it had to get closer to the stream further up, and it finally did. Tom, Mike, and I hopped out of the car while the old man Rob rested. This was a small, forest stream, tumbling from pool to pool through rocks and downed timber. It looked like Renegade water to me, and it was. I quickly had a small Colorado River cutt to hand.

Colorado River cutt from S Fork Rock Creek

I called back to Tom and Dover who were still getting ready at the truck that we were certain to find success for Mike here. And we did. Within about 5 minutes, Dover had his Colorado River cutt to complete his slam, and Tom also found a nice one.

Mike got a nice Colorado River cutt from this small creek to finish out his slam

Dover and I would have loved to finish the day in this beautiful little stream with ample numbers of pretty, small, trout, but Tom had visions of more big fish from the Strawberry in town, so after only 10 minutes of fishing, we packed back in the car and headed to town, where as dark was falling, we did find some more and bigger trout in the Strawberry. With the slam complete, we enjoyed a nice dinner at Cowan's and made plans to fish our way home tomorrow.

Utah Cutthroat Slam II - Day 3

We took a break on Sunday for church and family, leaving for Duchesne and the South Uinta streams after a few wonderful hours with lots of family at our sister Kristi's house in Alpine. As we left, I called the hotel to let them know what time we'd be arriving, as it was a small, family establishment that doesn't have someone on site all the time. The owner asked "How many of you are there?" which worried me since I had changed the days of our initial reservation. "Four," I answered. I had spoken with him a couple weeks earlier and said we needed a double queen. A bit of silence, then he said he only had a single queen available that night, but could move us into something else the next. We left it at don't worry, he'll find some way to make it work. When we arrived, here is what made it work!

Tight quarters with a double air mattress wedged between the wall and the queen bed. Note the off-center wall hangings, showing that the queen was pushed over to where the door would barely open!

As we unloaded as little stuff as we could, took pictures and texted them to family, and generally complained a little, Rob's daughter Michelle sent back a text that said, "It's kind of like backpacking, except with a lot more room!" We laughed and realized it is all a matter of perspective, we embraced the adventure for the night, and the next day were moved into two, very nice and spacious double queen rooms for the next two nights.

Monday morning we took a break from the slam and arose early to meet our guide, Matt, for fishing the Rock Creek tribal lands, mostly a brown fishery (the guide is more a tribal member who accompanies you while you fish, not someone who ties on your flies and tells you where to cast. He was a great guy and I enjoyed the conversations with him as we fished). We were fishing in the special permit area, which the tribe manages with artificial lure and catch and release regulations, and only allow non-tribal members to fish with a guide. We were hoping for something spectacular, but met the reality of just a reasonably OK day of fishing.

Rock Creek is a beautiful stream running in a canyon off the south slopes of the Uinta Mountains

The stretch we fished has lots of pocket water, where we occasionally found decent browns.

Tom and a nice Rock Creek brown

Dover found one in a stretch of pocket water

Rick gets a nice brown on a Turk's Tarantuala

We fished mostly in pairs, hopscotching each other up the stream, and ended up fishing a little more than a mile-and-a-half of water, ranging from fast pocket water to nice long flat runs. The only thing that was consistent was the slick-as-snot, irregularly sized boulders lining the bottom of the stream. We all fell or nearly fell multiple times throughout the day.

Dover throws a loop in a flat stretch of water

The best moment (for me) came when I dropped my big, black skully bugger streamer I had tied on into a hole Tom had been running his smaller flies through. I swung it right next to an undercut boulder at the top of a deep hole, and watched as a big brown came full out of the water attacking the fly! It was the biggest of the day.

A 20-inch brown makes just about any day a good day!

While it was a decent day fishing, it wasn't something we would pay a premium to do again. On a return trip, we'd spend more time exploring the water between the tribal lands and the dam, which we visited the next day, finding similar water, lots of risers, but no takers in a brief, evening stop.

We drove back along Rock Creek, stopping for a bit in the non-guide required tribal waters, where we found a number of small browns, but nothing spectacular. Arriving in Duchesne, we made a quick stop at the Strawberry River just a couple blocks from the hotel as it was getting dark. The water was colored, running high, but we found some nice rainbows and browns on both flies and my brass hackle. We closed the day at one of the few restaurants in town, Cowan's Cafe. The food was great, the company better. Tomorrow is the day to find a Colorado River cutthroat for everyone to close out the slam.

Utah Cutthroat Slam II - Day 2

We considered returning to the Logan for more cutthroat fun, but since this was somewhat of an exploration trip to see new water, we decided to start the day at the East Fork of the Little Bear River. We had intel that there were lots of fish in the stretch below the dam. So arising early, we headed to the south end of Cache Valley, an area I had never visited in all the years of visits to family. The burgeoning growth of Logan southward was left behind, and soon we were passing through the valley as I remembered it when I was young - farm houses scattered among green fields (although with occasional modern castles mixed in). We arrived at the river, eager to see what we would find. The first stretch we visited was somewhat dewatered, but looked plenty good. However, in two runs we didn't see a fish. Either fished out or bad intel. We debated leaving, or going upstream a little further above an irrigation takeout we could see on Google Earth. We decided to stay, and it ended up being a good decision. I got out the brass hackle and my telescoping spinning rod, Tom and Dover stayed with flies, and Rob read in the car. Everyone caught fish but Rob. We found nice rainbows and browns in the fairly short stretch up to the dam. But no photos. Oh well, we'd consider coming back here to take a break from catching cutts in the Logan.

It was time to get back to the slam. Leaving Cache Valley, we headed for a tributary of the South Fork of the Provo. The road was pretty rough and it took us about 45 minutes to drive the 7 miles or so into the river, but it dropped us in a middle section of the little stream we thought would be less visited. Rob and I went up, Tom and Dover down. Rob got his Bonneville cutthroat right away at the road crossing.

Rob doubled the size of his Yellowstone cutthroat from yesterday

We then hiked further upstream to a stretch I had scouted out on Google Earth that looked more open. We found reasonable numbers of fish, mostly small, until we encountered a series of beaver dams, including this double decker. In the dams, we found some nicer fish.

Double decker beaver dam, one of many on this stretch

Nice Bonneville cutt from a beaver dam

Rob found a nicer one at the head of the next beaver dam

Time was up, so we headed back to the car, to meet Tom and Dover. They had found some fish, mostly small, and washed out beaver dams. The trip back to the main road was just as bumpy as coming in. We had hoped for more from this stream, but at least everyone had their Bonneville cutt. With a couple hours left in the day, we headed up to try out the full South Fork. We gave it 30 minutes. Rob and I were fishing in shade, which seems to turn cutthroat off, and didn't see a fish. Tom and Mike had some sun, and found a few nice fish. 

I'd smile too, with a beautiful Bonnevile cutt like that1

Not quite ready to call it a day, I begged to stop at the roadside beaver dams I had visited a few years before. Beavers had added to their work, and the dam where I had found rainbows a few years ago now had cutts. Tom and I caught a few decent Bonneville cutts out of the first dam, then I left him to check out the new one I was standing in at the foot of the old dam. I saw a couple swirls as I approached a break in the willows, always a good sign. I made my way carefully into the water, and proceeded to land nine more pretty cutts from the little pond. A perfect way to end any day!

Beautiful little beaver ponds full of willing cutts!

We take a break tomorrow for Church and a family dinner, then it is off to Duchesne and the streams on the south slope of the Uinta mountains to try and find a Green River cutthroat to complete the slams.