For current tales please scroll to the bottom; updated 12/31/13.

Comments welcome! Email feedback to holly@troutchicks.com

Weeks since I dropped my phone in a river? 22 and counting.....

My name is Holly and I LOVE fishing! I have lived my whole life in Utah taking advantage of its many amazing lakes and rivers. I grew up going with my dad to the Strawberry Reservoir and doing the worm and bobber thing. (I am surprised I ever fished again.) We went up two to three weekends a month all year long. We also took trips down the Green River--in canoes! That was always an adventure. We backpacked into the Uintah Mtns. too. I was taught well. And then I turned into teenager. I didn’t fish for quite a while. I did watch “A River Runs Through It” with roommates one night, and as corny as it sounds, it made me want to fish again.

After graduating (Southern Utah University-PE, English & Health-teacher bound), I met a great guy through some friends. He talked fly fishing. Fly fishing? Sure I did. I rummaged through my dad’s stuff and found everything I thought I would need, and most importantly, I watched “A River Runs Through It” again. Our first river was Black Canyon on the Bear River in Southeastern Idaho. It was cold and snowy, but beautiful. I fell in, all the way in, within the first 15 minutes. He fished for another two hours.

And so it began. Jared and I never dated. We fished. We’d fish a river and then get dinner. Our courtship took us to the Provo, the Weber, the Beaverhead, the Blacksmith Fork, and a few other spots. The first time we returned to Black Canyon it was summer--much warmer. I fished for about an hour before I managed to fall head first through a huge patch of stinging nettle. I must have amused Jared as I tried to fake/learn to fly fish, because we got married in the late fall.

Fly fishing became my passion, our passion. I find challenges and aspirations on every river. I crave the peace (mixed with a healty dose of frustation) that I find in the water. And most importantly, Jared and I grow closer through fishing.

Holly Finn Fly Fishes will be about the rivers, the fish, the adventures (the misadventures), the products, the shops and the people. It will be about the passion that is fly fishing.

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Henry's Fork 4/14/13

It was just plain crappy weather! We woke up in Island Park to a couple of inches of snow. But, by 11:00 it was 35 degrees, and we were off. We had snow, sleet, rain and lots of thunder. We fished until all my gloves were soaked (all three pairs) and my fingers frozen.

Jared made these videos using a gadget I bought him for a little Christmas gift. My local fly shop, Round Rocks, in Logan, Utah, had LokSak’s on the stocking stuffer rack. I bought a pack for him and one for me (still haven’t found where I hid mine). Luckily, his was a three pack and he gave me one. I always fish with a camera. It happens to be my Galaxy S3 phone right now-it takes great pics. With my history of mishaps, my gadgets have always been stored in a zip lock. This LokSak is like a zip lock on steroids. We really didn’t get to test it out its full potential until recently. Neither of us wanted to stick our hands in the icy water. The cool thing is that you can take pictures through the bag. The amazing thing is that you can take video underwater, easily.

I am formulating a way to tether it to me before I try it. My luck it will get ripped from my hand and end up somewhere near the sunglasses, pliers and other items I have lost in the rivers over the years. If your local shop doesn’t carry these goto www.loksak.com. It was about $7 at Round Rocks.

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The Opener 5/18/13

I really love fishing the Madison between the bridges. Yes, there are way too many people on opening day, but there are a lot of amazing little details that make you forget the crowds. It is our half anniversary, so we ditch the kidlets and enjoy a peaceful weekend. We had new gear to try out, which makes it even more exciting. I donned my new Korker Metalheads—love the Boa system. Wanna race getting boots on? Jared got new waders. He got a “too good to pass up” deal on Redington Sonic Pros. Both get two thumbs up. But I am getting ahead of myself…..

Saturday morning was 40 degrees and rain clouds threatened all day. (Nevertheless, I managed to get sunburned.) The people are predictable on the Madison; they start rolling in around 10:30, after breakfast at a lodge or café. We arrived at 9 and had the pick of holes for a while. Jared and I started at Three Dollar on the south side and fished up to Raynolds. The water was off color, but not the chocolate milk torrent that we encountered last year. I landed three beauties, and lost 6 or 7; I don’t know what my deal was. I got the hang of it on the other side as we fished our way back to the truck.

One of my favorite things about this section of river is the wildlife. I especially love to hear the geese. I love their honk, and they are beautiful in flight. Right now they are guarding fluffy little goslings. I get butterflies when I see them out in the current, the parents floating sideways keeping them safe. I would never do that with my kids! A few osprey are always soaring overhead; there is a rookery atop a big pole a half mile up river from Three Dollar. One of the pair sat patiently in the nest while the other hunted. It is amazing to see the osprey hover over the river for minutes at a time and then watch it dive into the water. One year I was fishing when a herd of at least 20 antelope crossed the river not 50 yards from me. We can usually see elk on the mountainside to the north of the river; today we couldn’t because the cloud cover was low. We spotted a pair of wood ducks on a rock in the middle of the river this year. They are so gorgeous! Off the top of my head I can’t think of a better river for wildlife.

The view is beautiful too. The mountain ranges to the east and north are magnificent. I actually caught a fish while looking at the range to the east. I wasn’t paying attention to my line which was fully extended downriver. All of the sudden I felt a tug and “fish on!”

Like I said, we fished from bridge to bridge and back. About a half mile from Three Dollar I was exhausted. Can you catch too many fish? I literally caught three nice ones in three casts (right in front of Jared). I began thinking about the ice cold vanilla cream soda in the cooler. I walked up onto the higher trail and hoofed it straight to the truck. The holes closer to the bridge are over fished anyway, I reasoned. Boy that was a good soda! I looked across the river and remembered that I had ditched my fleece layer under a bush about a quarter mile after starting. So I finished my soda and trekked over to find it. It was still there. I went back to the truck and figured I’d hit a few of the holes I skipped while waiting for Jared.

I went to a trusty old hole where I had to teeter across a large grey log step briefly onto another log and up onto a big rock. As I shuffled across and took my last step down onto the red decayed log I wondered when the log was going to break; it looked iffy at best. I pushed off onto the rock and had my answer. It sounded just like when a redwood falls. Crack! I went in all the way except for the right half of my head. I never felt the bottom, but somehow sprang up onto the rock. Wow, it was cold water! I looked around—no one saw. Good thing your reflexes make you clench in danger—still had my rod! I threw my line into the hole and pretended it didn’t happen. But it did and my hand hurt. My hoodie weighed a hundred pounds! I stepped back onto the log and tip-toed across as lightly as I could. Just as I got to the truck the skies opened up and it began to pour! No kidding; no rain all day despite the clouds and now it rains! I couldn’t get much wetter though, right?

Some of my "best" moments have come on this river; maybe that’s why I love it!

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Warm River to Ashton 5/27/13

We woke up in Rexburg to near gale force winds and dark skies. It figured, get the kidlets all psyched up for their first river float and the weather sucks. By the time we got up to the Warm River put in (noonish) the weather had calmed quite a bit. We outfitted the kids, Paige (11) in my old waders, and Jack (6) in pair of slightly huge hip waders, and situated them in the boat. It was the tail end of the salmon fly hatch so we put big black and orange creations on their rods with bead head droppers; easy enough for them.

As we launched they were wide-eyed and excited, but they didn’t want to fish yet. So Jared rowed and I chucked a brown rubber leg and hare’s ear. The first mile was pretty uneventful. All of the good water was occupied by those that put in before us. I looked back at my family, the kids behind their dad looking out into the water. I thought, “Now this is what it’s all about.” I got my camera, removed it from the Loksak for a photo and took a few pics. At that very moment, mid-picture, we hit a wave. I still had my rod in one hand and the Galaxy s3 in the other. The bump knocked me sideways. I caught the side of the boat with my rod hand and watched the phone fly out of my hand into the river. I quickly dunked my arm in clear to my shoulder, but only managed to get my ring and pinkie fingers on it. It was gone. “Damnit!” I yelled. I look back at the kids whose eyes were locked on me. Everyone was silent. Then Jack simply asked, “Mom, did you just drop your phone in the river?” “Yep. Yep, I did.” Paige laughed. We all laughed. We figured retrieval was futile and moved along.

About five minutes later Paige was asleep in the rear chair. Jack came up by me and looked for wildlife (he gets a quarter for every living thing he spots – sparrows and songbirds excluded). It was still slow; a few 4 inch rainbows. About midway Jared got me over by a seam and I had a few nice ones hit the salmon fly. We stopped below those holes and let the kids eat while we fished upstream. Of course I hooked branches above each prime spot and spooked the fish. I heard some brother/sister commotion and went back to see what was going on. They were into the snacks, and Jack had goo running down the front of him. Turns out he had a load of Butterfinger in his mouth and Paige smacked his cheeks causing the Butterfinger goo to exit. Ugh. I told Paige to come upriver with me. I showed her a spot above a little stick jam where fish were feeding on the surface. I threw a caddis and caught one right off. I set the hook and it flew out of the water and hit Paige right in the neck! Apparently it was smaller than I thought.

We moved along and the fishing picked up. The fish were still slamming the salmon fly, but not taking it. It was happening enough that the kids were now watching the fly and seeing the fish hit. Finally, we got one. Jared told Paige to grab the big net, and a netter was born. She netted the next three fish and loved it. Jack even got into the game when he hucked a whitefish back into the water.

Seven hours later we docked at the Ashton take out. It was deemed a great trip by all of us. (Except for what was later titled “Mom’s $300 slip up”.) We are already planning our next river, kids and all.

Happy birthday, Jared! Great rowing!

(Remember, there should be more pictures, but half are at the bottom of the river).

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24 Mile Reservoir 6/1/13

A few weeks ago when we went up to Chesterfield Reservoir, we also explored a little body of water to the east called 24 Mile Reservoir. It is labeled a trophy fishery, requiring motor less and barbless, artificial only. We decided that we would check it out sometime. The boat ramp is too dodgy for the drift boat or any boat for that matter. It is made for float tubes and pontoon boats.

We borrowed a friend’s float tubes intending to use them, but ended up scoring two at a garage sale early in the morning. After a healthy dose of yard work we headed out. We stopped at our favorite eatery along the way, The New York Deli in Preston, Idaho. It has the yummiest sandwiches in Cache Valley, definitely worth a drive, but luckily it is one the way to a lot of fishing.

When we arrived there were two float tubes on the small lake. But they were heading in. It didn’t take us long to realize we needed damsel flies, which neither of us had. Nothing like fishing with one fly tied behind your back, right? Jared went out for a more serious fishing attempt and Jack and I launched the “adventure boat” as Jack called it. We paddled around and stripped streamers hoping to catch a nice one. We did see a 20’ one floating wrong side up, and another 2 or 3 rose around us, but that was it. The visibility in the water was amazing. We could see clearly to the bottom everywhere we went.

Jack insisted that we try the float tube, together, so we paddled back to shore. I outfitted Jack with a pair of my old Simms. We cranked the belt to its smallest size, strapped on the life jacket and waded in. I am amazed by how much fun Jack had. The two of us barely had breathing room together in the tube, but he loved it! We threw a few midge patterns in hopes of enticing a fish, but nothing. We motored around, chased a few mergansers and laughed at the swallows dipping their beaks in the water as they flew around.

After another trip in the yellow boat we gave up. The sun was setting and the fish still weren’t rising like I thought they might. Jared struck out too. While we were packing up a lone guy and his boat pulled up. He said Chesterfield was crappy today too. Lake fishing; I just don’t get it. Fantastic time with the boy though; wouldn’t trade that time on the lake for anything.

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The Madison, Lyon Bridge to Palisades 6/8/13

We floated this section for the first time. I have messed around at the takeout a few times, but nothing serious. The weather was great and the floatilla suprisingly sparse. My dad and I threw a dark rubber leg with green legs and various beadheads. Jack was my sidekick, in charge of the dogs, and Jared rowed. My dad caught one right away, a decent brown. It was his first time in a drift boat. His feet were hurting, so it was a perfect way for him to relax and enjoy. I caught two small ones before we found a nice run to stop by. I crossed a little stream and tried to entice a big bow that was hanging out a foot from the shore. He was having none of what I offered. For some reason my little springer spaniel, Scout, decided to come hang with me. He got caught in the current of the confluence and headed down stream. I was really worried about him as he tried to swim straight up river in rather than bail out to the side. I had to sprint downstream and call him over to the side. Dumb pup!

We didn't see any bugs on the water at all. And zero fish were rising as far as we saw, so we continued with the rubber legs and beadheads. We each lost a few a long the way. The large rocks were plentiful and I worked them hard. At one point I was wondering why I never have much luck below big rocks and making a mental note to study up on the technique when all of the sudden my luck changed. I landed a modest rainbow. We each caught a few more before the crazy take out. Who designed that route? Its a good thing I was in the boat or the boys would have seemed very obvious bringing the boat to the shore by a grassy patch littered with bikini clad ladies. I hauled the boat back up to the ramp and promptly got carded by a fish cop. Nice guy though.

We loaded the boat and headed into Ennis for an early dinner at the Gravel Bar. The local sporting goods store, Shedhorn, was having a sale so we went in to check it out. They have the best gun department I have ever seen! I think they had three Scars in stock and loads of other tasty weapons. Life must be different in Montana because the gun stores in Utah are bare bones. I will make a point to return someday with cash in hand. I didn't find anything I "needed" in Madison River Fishing Campany, but I made a mental list for the future. We went into the Tackle Shop because they are an Orvis dealer and I have interest in their new women's waders. I have been researching my next purchase and the Silver Sonics had me at hello. They did not have my size, but it was my first hands on look. Impressive. Solid. A definate must.

We retrieved the other vehicle and sent my dad and Jack back to the cabin. Jared and I fished planned to up from Three Dollar until dark. I had read that streamer fishing was pretty good, so I tied one on. I had at least 20 fish come up and whack the streamer, but no takers. I think this was my first real try with a streamer, so I attribute a lot of those misses to the operator. It was facinating to see those fish come out of their nooks and crannies and take a hit. The visability was great and I enjoyed my front row seat. I fished up the south side for a while and then gave up. When I got back to the parking lot the sun had set. I knew I would have a bit of a wait for Jared so I tied and a rubber leg and a red shop vac and fished a few runs by the bridge. 1st cast, bam! I caught a beautiful 18" rainbow. It was so deeply colored. I snapped a few pics and set him free. The next cast, bam! I fought it for a minute and it got off. 3rd, hello lazy white fish! It used the current and gave me a respectable fight. A few casts later I hooked another healthy rainbow and it took off downstream. I headed down with it and tripped on a rock. I was in about mid-calf and fell straight back. It was a chilly dunk, but I kept my arms up and reeled while I fell. I got back up, let the water settle in my waders and landed the bugger. It was another 18" rainbow, but the colors literally paled in comparrison to the first one. It was a good fight though. Funny thing....I looked up and there were two guys on the bridge watching me. They gave me a thumbs up and moved on.

The Three Rivers Ranch fly shop in Ashton DID have my size Silver Sonics, and they are great on land! I was tempted to do a little gardening in them this week while I wait for another chance to get on a river. I will try them out this weekend, for sure, right after I explain to the kids why they won't be going to Legoland on our upcoming trip. Sacrifices. Life is full of them.

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The Onieda Narrows 6/13/13

I could hardly wait to try out my new Orvis Silver Sonics, so with kidlets properly farmed out, we headed north. (Fantastic pulled pork and coleslaw sandwich at The New York Deli in Preston!) The Narrows was a few feet higher than when we drove through last month. At that time a neighbor had given me a phenomenal report of a one hundred fish day at super low water levels. We weren't concerned about higher water; they have been raising it gradually. We were, however, leery of the wind. It was howling. When we left our house it was 90 degrees. 45 minutes later, in Preston it was 79. By the time we pulled into the parking lot it was 65! Good thing I packed a fleece.

As usual, the place was thick with caddis flies. I watched the water for a while and saw little surface activity so I started with a hare's ear and a caddis emerger. Jared caught one right away on a prince nymph. After I switched the emerger for a prince I caught one 15" rainbow and lost a larger one after a nice fight. I need to be more patient and let them run a little more. I tend to worry about wearing out the fish, but mostly I just want to net it fast and check it out. My impatience burns me. The next rainbow I caught was 13". It gave almost no fight, and when I removed the hook and released it, it went belly up. I grabbed it and tried my best to revive it. Nothing. During my efforts I noticed how warm the water was, really warm. No bueno for the fish. The skies were overcast and water fell from the sky, but it wasn't really a rain. The dropplets probably couldn't get through the clouds of caddis. Holy cow they were thick! I had them on my hat and glasses, up my sleeves and down my shirt the whole time. I eventually did see a few fish rise. One hog surfaced like a whale out in the middle; I tried to get to it but couldn't. Several more fish and we were out of daylight. It was such a beautiful evening. The wind conveniently died down while we fished. Lucky us.

Wader review? Fan-freakin-tastic! For the first time in forever I did not feel a little trickle of water running down my leg. I love the convertible feature, as well as the waterproof pocket for my camera inside the front. It was ultra easy to access. The fit was perfect. The only thing I am still unsure about was the cute little skid proof things on the bottom of the booties. They actually make the booty hang up as I slid my feet into my still super cool Korkers. I'd better get out again soon and see if I feel better about them then.

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Blacksmith Fork 6/14&15/13

Okay, I think I finally understand why people talk positively about the Blacksmith Fork River. We ignored it for years because we just didn't get that much out of it. I have been exploring it a little over the past two years, but still haven't been won over. Jared and I went up to the very top near Hardware Ranch and gave it another go.

The first day he did well and I had an awful experience. It wasn't me though, it was my dog. I could not control Scout and he was everywhere, in every hole. Even when I sent him with Jared and did a great sneak up to a promising run, he came bounding down the center of the river. He caused me to lose at least four flies, and ran through my line more times than I want to recall. I gave up, stomped back to the truck and organized my flies until Jared was done.

Fortunately we went back the next afternoon, without dogs. Jared stayed with me and gave me some pointers. He can spot fish really well. The BSF is difficult because it is very bushy. The open spots don't allow much back cast. The river makes you step up your game. Roll casting is important. Presentation is critical.

That reminds me (squirrel moment), last week on the Madison a guy's casting caught my eye across the river. When I saw it I thought, "No, it can't be." But sure enough, there was a guy doing the shadow casting that Brad Pitt rocked in A River Runs Through It. You know the one when he "broke free" from his father's instruction. If that is in fact a real technique I would advise against it. It looks ridiculous!

Anywho, I haven't seen a good, honest dry fly fishing for a long time. I had to dive deep in my box and dust off a spool of 7x. My leader looked a mess: 3x to 5x to 7x. After several fly changes I finally saw a nose appear in the middle of the river. I had a tiny caddis on and that is what he wanted. He was a cute little brownie. Four flies later I dangled a green drake blindly over a bush to a hole above a small waterfall and hooked another cute wee one.

Now a 9" fish may not seem like a lot, but it really all depends on the rod with which you fish. This river and the ones around Cache Valley are perfect for a 2 or 3 wt. I used my Diamondback Westerner 3 wt. Jared made this rod for me for our wedding. It has such a good feel with small fish. My family gave me a TFO 2 wt. when I completed a portion of my school last fall. (A rod for graduation, boots for Mother's Day, and spontaneous waders--we are wired right). I honestly think Jared got tired or worried about me using his Winston 2 wt. and so he bought me my own. He made the Winston and so I don't blame him. I fish the bigger rivers with a sage 5 wt. And I have a 9 wt. from our Alaska trip, so I am ready for ANYTHING.

At the end of the day I feel better about the BSF. It’s not an easy river, but I am starting to figure it out.

Salmon Flies, Madison River 6/26/13

I live a good life. Yesterday I spent all day on a shooting range, and today I am fishing five hours north of home on the beautifiul Madison in Montana. Because of an ill-timed family vacation (who goes to California when the salmon flies are due!?!?) Jared and I had to play hooky and race up to try and catch the beginning of the hatch.

It was reported on the web that the salmonflies had hit Three Dollar so we made arrangements and zipped up north for a quicky. What a disappointment. Not a fly in sight. The report must have come from one of the hoards of senior citizens we ran into fishing today; one must have seen a few swallows flying low and reported that they were salmonflies. I did put one on for fun and a fish hit it hard but didn't take it. Oh well, maybe next year.
*Note: I have nothing against seniors. I plan on being one someday. I also plan on being a menace.

All was not lost, we fished from 9-5 (following a work day schedule) and caught some nice fish. We also caught a few huge whitefish. I was so disappointed when I fought a good fight only to discover it was a whitey. Even worse, I foul hooked the sucker. But, I will say that if a whitefish must be caught, foul hooking makes it more exciting.

We fished up from Three Dollar for a few hours with limited success. The water was so low, down at least a foot and a half, and the fish were out in the deep runs. It was kind of like fishing a whole new section; nothing was the same. The wind was blowing too and got worse as the day went. We took a break and tried up between the lakes, but there were old fellas every 50 feet. I haven't fished above the mouth of Quake Lake but Jared has. He pointed out a few good spots. We will have to try and beat the crowd sometime. It is an incredibly beautiful area.

I had a horrible moment back at the truck. I broke down my rod and put it in the back seat. Just as I pushed the door the rod shifted and I broke both pieces of my Sage. Bugger! That's why we buy good rods though, right? I will ship it off tomorrow. Luckily I could switch to my Diamondback. A 3 wt. is not ideal in the wind or for chucking rubber legs, but a perfect feel with the fish.

We went back and fished down from Raynolds. Like I said, it is really low, which means I could wade out to places I normally couldn't. It was tough to find the fish and to battle the wind.

I read an article last night in Fly Fisherman about a guy looking at an old fishing photo of his dad and uncle. He described his dad as a "dandy" dressed in his flannel and khakis. Well I wonder what word a son would use to describe the guy I saw across the river from us....he was wearing a Chinese hat--point on top, big and round, woven. I had to watch for a while to see if it was really a guy. It was. I thought about crossing, smacking him upside the head and teling him to give his wife back her hat and then smack her for buying it. It was hideous! I watched for another moment to see if he broke free into some sweet shadow casting. Who in world sells those? Hey, maybe next week I will pick up a fishing sombrero!

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River Karma

I believe wholeheartedly in karma, river karma. RK is the act of picking up trash along the river and catching fish as a result.

I have never understood how a person can just toss trash on the ground, whether it is the side of the road or the bank of a river. How hard is it to stash a few grocery bags in your fishing bag and stash the trash until you get to a gas station?

My obsession started many years ago on the Weber River in Utah. We were fishing and not having a lot of luck. It was hot and high, and a little too early in the afternoon. A couple hundred yards from the car I noticed an unusually large amount of garbage on the trail. Pretty soon my net was full, then my arms. I took a few trips back to the car and wished I had a large trash bag or two.

It is not unusual for me to fill up my pack and net while on a river outing (unless I am on the South Fork and then my pockets are full of pebbles (love the little river rocks for frames and decorations). I definately pick up more trash where bait fishing is allowed. Why is that? I rarely find trash on the Madison, Henry's Fork or Green. If I do it looks to be unintentionally dropped, for the most part. Last week I pocketed a half full pack of yuppie mini cigars. (If I were a smoker it would have been a score.) Often times I have to reach back to the shore and dump the trash in my net in order to net a fish. In fact, a few weeks ago I went to net a big, beautiful rainbow at dusk and reached out only to see a ratty old tennis shoe in my net

Rarely do I find good "trash" and when I do I can guarantee it has a name and number on it. While fishing the opener on the Madison my husband found a flybox chuck full of streamers. Peel back a few layers and there was a phone number. Drat. The last name was Fritz. I took it. I asked the guy in the next hole if he was Fritz. No. A while later I saw two guys walking up on the ridge back to Three Dollar. "Is one of you Fritz?" I shouted. They stopped, looked at each other, and then the guy on the right pointed to the one on the left. "Do you want your flies?" I held up the box. He looked relieved and trudged down to me.

To that point I had caught a few and lost several nice ones. After that I was on fire. RK. No kidding. Same story on all my rivers. Find some trash and I will at least land one, no matter how tough the day.

RK. Believe it.

(My husband's RK comes from removing the trash from his truck bed after our trips.)

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The Narrows 7/13/13

I have been jonesing for some good fishing, but I have been going a hundred miles an hour since returning from Cali. Besides fishing, one of my hobbies is my raspberry garden. The literal fruits of my labor needed picking as soon as I got back. Smoothies & jam, baby!

Jared picked me up from work at 5a and we drove up to the Narrows. On the way up we stopped at a 7-11. I almost bought a 5 Hour Energy shot. I have made it through several stints on the graves shift with only two Rock Stars consumed. I prefer not to rely on stuff like that; Coke and Pepsi are more my speed. But this day I was tempted. I am glad I didn't take one. When we got out of the truck the cool mountain air combined with the roar of the river provided a perfect rush of energy. We were on water by 6:15. I started with a streamer, but my 3wt does not throw them well and I switched to a nymph rig. I was only fishing for about 15 minutes when Jared popped out of the bushes by me. He asked if I had felt the water. I usually wait until I fall in or catch one, but I dipped my hand in. Whoa! Warm, really warm. No bueno!

Jared headed down river to the island to check it out. My rush was over and I felt tired. I fished for another minute and then trekked down to Jared; I had to keep moving. He had caught one. I perked up a little. I fished up the far side of the island with no luck, but I did see a number of fish finning just off shore. They didn't appear to be feeding, just finning. Odd, but interesting.

The sun was on the river now and the air was warming up. I went back up river and threw nymphs. I caught a few little rainbows. They didn't fight much. Two casts in a row I had fish in different spots hit my pink indicator. Hmm. Then, like a smack in the face (and wise words from Jared), I realized that the annoying sound behind me was from cicadas. I borrowed one from Jared and tied it on. (Jared, it's in a tree above the bridge if you want it back). I caught a few more; nothing remarkable though. Jared landed a nice rainbow on a hopper. Then, just as fast as the fishing turned on when the sun hit, it shut down. We got back to the truck and were greeted by hoards of kids getting ready to tube down the river. Apparently we got out just in time--the fish must have been warned.

I stayed awake long enough to get an amazing brisket, cheese and mushroom bbq sandwich at the NY Deli in Preston. Great day.

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Uintah Mtns, Browne Lake 7/24-27/13

An extended family camp out is great when it turns into a fishing trip. Our family joined the families of Jared's three sisters and his parents at Browne Lake in the Uintah Mtns.

We wasted no time getting into the water and tried several little creeks. Browne Lake's outlet proved to be the only place to find fish (I didn't try the lake). It turns out some bunny hugging, bureaucratic a-hole decided to poison many of the lakes and creeks in the area to rid them of the dastardly rainbows and brook trout and reintroduce the native Bonneville cutthroat. I hooked into one of those coveted fish, but it must have been the only one they reintroduced because I didn't even scare another one. In the time it took to catch that one fish I would have caught at least a dozen pre-poison. *Note: As I write this I have researched and found that fisherman are supportive of the poisoning of these lakes and streams, and that they plan to poison more this year. They are stocking the native cutthroats until next year, so that one I caught is a native’s native and a survivor—that is until they poison him. I obviously still don’t agree.

I spent four days on the outlet (Carter Creek, I think it is). I caught dozens and dozens of little bookies (mix in a few rainbows and cutthroats) on Adams, purple haze and purple renegades. I even hung a hare's ear dropper during a slow moment in the heat of the day and caught a few on it. I was able to get at least one fish out of each hole, and there were plenty of holes.

One hole in particular will haunt me until I return. It is a little fast water pool with a log laying three feet above the water right over the heart of the hole. It took some skill to get it just under the log. I caught one right off and then lost my last purple renegade to another when I tried to unhook the squirrelly sucker. I wondered if I could catch my fly back. I made a few more passes and then vowed to return later. Several hours later I got to the hole just as Jared was stepping out. He did not catch my fly. I returned the following morning with silly hopes. I ran my big Adams perfectly through the hole and a fish hit but didn't take. Again, same result. The third cast caught on the log. I had to break the line. The fly fell straight into the water and was immediately gobbled up! Those buggers!

The best part of the fishing was when Jared took his sister, Reni, down to the river and taught her to fish with a fly rod. She caught a few fish and had fun. She even saw one rise, fished to it and caught it all by herself. A trout chick was born!

What a great trip! It's funny how when I am fishing the Madison or Henry's Fork and I catch an eight incher I curse the thing. But up here I spent hours and hours happily pursuing the wee ones. Great trip!

Gear note: Let me take two seconds to praise my Korker Metalheads. I hiked up hills and over miles of deadfall and rocks and my feet don’t hurt one bit. These boots provide excellent ankle support. I love em!

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Madison, Lyon's to Palisades 8/24/13

We finally got a boat! It's a Hyde Pro Series. Jared picked it up on Friday and we were on the Madison Saturday by 9am. I couldn't believe how many boats were at the Lyon's put in getting ready. And I couldn't ignore the looks we got when we loaded 3 kids, 2 dogs and 2 adults into the boat and shoved off. We were the circus of the floatilla, if you will. I guess we could say we were testing the weight limit recommended by the manufacturer, I guess.

Right off the bat we had a tail wind. With that much weight and a tail wind, Jared was in for a heck of a day on the sticks. Not too long after the start I caught a nice rainbow. I got it up to the boat and Paige went to net it a little early and got the upper fly caught in the net. This gave the fish a little slack and he shook it off. Paige felt horrible. It was a nice rainbow, 20" at least. I wish I could have gotten a picture, of course, but that's how our circus rolls.

We had a dry spell until our first stop by the little creek that comes in a few miles down. The kids and dogs ran around for a bit while Jared and I fished. Jared caught a small brown and a decent whitefish (I chuckled as I typed "decent whitefish"). Shancie, Paige's friend, threw a Jake's lure on her spin rod and almost landed a fish. That got the kids a little more excited.

Our floatilla continued with no fish. We found a nice spot for lunch and the kids played in some beaver ponds while we fished. Jared caught a nice brown, and the kids caught a fish or two after they were done playing. I caught a few small ones, rainbows.

We stopped just past a super low bridge and fished the area hard. We all caught fish. Shancie caught a really nice one. It was really fun to see her get Paige interested in fishing. Without Shancie there Paige wouldn't have picked up her pole. Both girls are familiar with casting a spin rod so we figured we will let them do that a few times and then let them try fly fishing. But truthfully, they were doing a lot better with the Jake's than both of us combined. I could have fished that spot for another few hours, but we needed to head out.

The take out came up quickly and we landed her much better than last time. It is still an odd take out. While Jared hooked up the boat I fished right above the ramp and caught a nice one. He ran down with the net and netting my 18" whitey! You know, I am kind of starting to respect the whitefish when it uses the current to give me a descent fight.

We drove into Ennis, and went straight to the Madison River Fishing Company. What a great shop. I absolutely love the logo. Kingfishers are my favorite bird. They could not pack any more gear into the shop if they tried. I found a hoodie and a shirt, and Jared found a shirt. Happy clams! We hit the Gravel Bar for dinner and had some yummy pulled pork sandwiches. Their desserts were the best though; huckleberry cream pie, strawberry rubbarb pie and a triple berry pie. All in all it was a great ending to a good day. Now, would I do it again? NO! Lose the kids or lose the dogs, not both ever again.

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Island Park 8/31-9/2

Our drift boat went to the Green River with our friends, and we went north to fish the Madison & Henry's Fork. It was to be the opposite of last weekend, no kids. Peace. I was hoping to end the "summer of small fish" with a few whoppers. Saturday morning we hit the Madison right at the mouth of Quake Lake. We were the first there, beating out the first car load if seniors by minutes. It was a gorgeous morning, but slow. I made my first real attempt at streamer fishing. Better late than never. After losing two beauties -streamers, not fish- I switched back to nymphs. I caught a few forgettable whiteys farther up between the lakes. The morning was gorgeous. There was a mist on the water, and geese flew through the mist as they set out for the day. We watched a heron preen atop a rock between the lakes.

We stopped a Gallup's Slide Inn and replenished tippet. The shop guy recommended an articulated green and white streamer. I left with new confidence, and pit in my stomach at the thought of losing a $6 streamer. We fished down from Raynold's until we we ready for lunch. I did catch one on a $3 Dip, recommended by Gallup's. I only discovered that I had caught the minnow when I went to retrieve my rig from a bush and it was wiggling around from the highest branch.

Lunch was to be in Ennis while we checked out the Ennis on the Madison Fly Fishing Festival. I was looking forward to 40 miles of sleep. I slept maybe an hour last night; it happens sometimes when I try to change my weekend schedule from graves to days. I woke up in Ennis, refreshed. The festival was pretty good. All of the players in fly fishing had booths, including Adipose! It was fun to see Shelly. Man their boats are sweet! She is busily preparing for our "Rods, Fins & Friends" in two weeks. We also saw an old friend of ours, Rex Haung of "Rexfly". Rex and I used to play sand volleyball together. He was part of our group of friends when we got hitched. Jared demo'd the Rexfly, and he gave us a demo to go. (Google it, it's pretty cool).

We hung with for a bit longer and then headed out. We stopped at the Beartooth Fly Fishing shop on the way back. I have never been in such a jam packed store. It even beats out MRFC. They have it all. And they are super nice. They introduced us to a fly called "batman". It's a great little blue beadhead that they swear by. We bought a few and a pair of shorts for me.

We took a nap in the shade at Lyon's before continuing on. We fished up the north side from Three Dollar and got into some bigger fish. I lost a few beauties. Jared and I actually had some doubles. It was fun, but we should have caught more fish considering the great evening conditions. We gave up after dark and headed back by the light of the assistive light widget on my phone.

Dinner was a pint of ice cream from the store. We tried to eat at the Island Park Lodge but they told us the kitchen was closed. Whatever. Their food is mediocre, at best.

Sunday morning we hit Upper Coffee Pot. We could see the red salmon headed up river. They aren't in full force yet, but those present sure stood out. I tried out the $6 streamer in a tasty hole. Ten minutes later I was searching the rocks for the streamer. Crap! Now I know why Jared said I should be using stronger tippet with streamers. I moved down below the log jam and worked the water. It wasn't until I put on a pheasant tail that the catching started. I must have caught 30 plus, at least. Not a one over 8", but many.

That afternoon we explored the middle of Box Canyon. I rocked the hopper-dropper, but not the hopper, hopper, dropper. I had a few hit it, but no takes. I caught some wee ones on the batman. We headed back and napped until evening. Just before dark we decided to chuck streamers below the dam. Good choice. Jared tied a few green and white streamers while I napped, and we both went with those. Jared caught a huge one, and so did I. Both fish put on a great show with a lot of above surface theatrics. Unfortunately, I did not land mine. I got it to the net and it ran clear across the river, jumped, shook, and ran free. I was so bummed. But it was awesome! Again, back to the truck with the assistive light.

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Logan River 9/30/13

After a quick trip into town for a mammogram, a few errands, a Slurpee and a tasty Stromboli, I drove up Logan Canyon to the Wood Camp campground for a few hours of fishing.

Despite a recent cold spell, I started with a hopper dropper combo. Last night, Jared tied up purple hoppers and BWO emergers in olive and purple; I started with the olive. I don’t like to use indicators on smaller rivers and choose to use larger flies for the job. Every once in a while I choose a winner and get a few on the dry and many more on the dropper.

It was a beautiful day with clouds overhead that changed the light every few minutes. I patiently fished each hole and slowly moved up river. It wasn’t long before I hooked into a 14” cutthroat on my TFO 2 wt. The fish took the olive BWO emerger and gave a good fight. Everything is a fight on the 2 wt. I failed to bring a net and had a heck of a time landing the bugger. As I reached for my camera he swam between my feet, hooked the hopper on my boot and was off. Apparently, he was a shy one. Beautiful though; cutthroats have a subtle beauty.

I headed up toward a deep pool where I watched Jared catch a big one last time we fished the Logan. I tried a few different things, but nothing was moving. Based on the worn areas on the bank, I suspect a worm and bobber has taken more than a few fish away from this hole. Dam them. Nonetheless, I was entertained by three Clark’s Nutcrackers in the next hole washing and chasing each other.

I went back to the hopper and BWO emerger and caught a few more decent browns as I slowly made my way up river. Both took the emerger. It was such a beautiful day, I did not want to go, but the kids would be home soon and I needed to be in cell range when they did. I found a spot to get out and walked down the highway back to the campground. I assumed I had gone pretty far up the river, but it was really only 200 yards back to the car.

The kids gave me permission to hit another river and I headed to the Blacksmith Fork for a quickie. I stepped into a familiar hole and waded waist deep up to a foot bridge. I had to roll cast my hopper dropper because of the bushes behind and the trees overhead. I had several hits on the hopper; it was exciting. Despite the fact that I was still waist deep and in the middle of the river, the fish hit the hopper less than three feet in front of me. Crazy fun! I never hooked into one, but it was quite a game.

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Logan River 10/6/13

Jack was easy to talk into going fishing; we told him he could bring his bike and trains and he was in. Paige, on the other hand, would have rather stayed home and watched TV. There was some yelling and door slamming, but she was soon in the truck and we were on our way. We drove up Logan Canyon looking for the right place. The spot Jared had in mind had about 30 trailers parked—elk camp. Red Banks was completely empty, but the gate was locked. It seems the government closes campgrounds when it shuts down. Whatever. We parked by the gate, unloaded and went on our merry way. It couldn’t have worked out better. No traffic to worry about while Jack raced around.

Jared got Paige into waders and they left for a private fishing lesson. I found several spots where Jack could play trains on the bank and ride. It was funny, I worked the holes while he yelled and gave me a play by play on what the trains were up to. I caught a few small cutthroats and brought them over for him to inspect. Jared and Paige soon caught up with us and I showed them a few runs where I had seen fish. They looked good, but caught nothing.

Paige grew tired and stayed to play with Jack on the bank. Jared fished up around the corner, but soon came back to say he had just caught a couple. Paige went with him to find the fish. Jack was patient while I fished one more hole. I had a fish whack at my purple hopper a few times in a deep hole by the bank. Why is it they whack the hopper but don’t take it. Am I pulling it out of their mouths? Hmmm. Better than no action at all.

Jack and I went back to the truck as it was getting dark and got our gear squared away. AS soon as I climbed into the cab I saw Jared and Paige walking down the highway. Paige caught two, one decent and one wee one. She was pretty excited. Is it Utah that has the commercial themed, “Take em fishing?” I think that for us it is, “Take em fishing, kicking and screaming.” All was well in the end.

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The Henry’s Fork 9/20-22/13

We got up to our cabin in Island Park pretty late Friday night. Michael, his brother, David, and David’s daughter, Kristen were already there, and asleep. I work with Michael, and I first met David and Kristen last year in Island Park when they came up for a less than great weekend of fishing (during a hot spell). David and Kristen hail from Texas, but Kristen currently calls Florida home. There was a little pressure to get into fish this time and we were pulling out all the stops.

We were up at six and out the door by before seven. Our destination was the Trouthunter to meet Shelly. She came down from Helena last night to float with us. She had another boat to pull back to Adipose last weekend, so she left Ginger (her gorgeous orange Adipose) at our cabin and met us today for a decompression adventure. We chose Warm River to Ashton again because it was still being reported as the most consistent. It wasn’t great for us last weekend, but the weather was better this time.

We launched our two boats with Shelly, Michael and me in the Adipose, and Jared rowing David and Kristen in our Hyde. I sat in the back and started with a brown and yellow streamer. Michael caught a few small ones before we stopped to get Shelly fishing and wait for Jared’s boat. I was hoping to get on the sticks so Shelly could fish; she spent all of last weekend rowing. But it was clear she likes to be in control of Ginger. I can relate; maybe later. Jared caught up with us and reported the Kristen had caught her first rainbow. It was a wee one, but she was happy. Pressure off, we fished from the bank for a bit. David caught a whitey or two. I hooked into a few teenage bows. We continued on. It was really relaxing and fun. About half way we got Kristen into our boat and kicked Michael out. She was a fun fit for us. We caught a few more here and there.

We really turned it on after we went under the bridge at Ashton. We anchored up and Shelly schooled us in the art of fishing. She had a fish on just about every cast. Kristen and caught a few too. I threw a streamer and watched one fish chase it up to the boat cast after cast. He never took it, but it was almost more fun watching him give chase. The boys were on the fish too. Jared was in the money. It must have been good karma for the rowers. Shelly finally let me row about 30 yards to the west end of the island. I sucked. We did a few circles on the way. But I did put us in a good position and we were on the fish again.

Some fisherman tell tall tales, but I promise this one to be 100% truth…Shelly hooked into one and it was a weird fight. Kristen and I watched waiting to see if it was foul hooked. Kristen said quietly that she thought she saw two fish. She didn’t want us to think she was a dufuss so she kept watching. Sure enough, Shelly got it close to the boat and TWO FISH were on the two hooks. They were both teens, but together that’s about 26” of fish. Unbelievable!

That was a great way to wrap up a fun float. In the end, we all caught fish, nothing huge, but it we kept busy. Kristen caught a brown, a whitey and a rainbow. And Shelly became a legend of sorts. We loaded the boats cleaned things up, parted ways with Shelly and headed to dinner exhausted.

We were a little slower to get on the water on Sunday. We wanted the temp to be somewhat tolerable. We drove over to River O and trekked up river to honey hole #1. The water was low, but fishable. The deep holes from the spring were gone, but the tiny ones were rising and Jared helped Kristen perfect her dry fly techniques. David stuck with them while Michael and I moved up river. I fished honey hole #2 with a black and red leech and caught two cuts right away. This is just what we needed to get Kristen into. Michael fished while I called Jared and dinked around with my pack and picked up garbage.

Kristen, Davis and Jared got there soon after Michael took a break. Michael and I found the best seat in the house, accidentally. I climbed up onto the hillside and sat down. I was looking right into the hole they were fishing. There were literally hundreds of fish stacked up, and some were HUGE! I don’t think I have ever had so much fun fishing, but not fishing. We watched the fish as her fly drifted over and past them. We could see the interest and the takes. It was not long before she hooked into one of the monsters. Jared had just walked up to see what we were seeing. We saw the take, and the rod bend in half. We all started yelling for her to keep the rod tip up and Jared bounded over sage brush to get to her. It broke off just as he got there. Wow, it would have been the nicest fist cutt ever. They continued to fish and soon Kristen was hooking one after another. They changed flies every 15 minutes and the first stayed interested. It was an amazing show.

Jared and I were about an hour past our get gone time. We said goodbye to our friends and headed out. It was a very fun trip for all of us.

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The MO 10/11-13/13

Our trip to Helena, Montana, and the Missouri River began by meeting fellow troutchick, Heidi, and her husband, Ryan, in Brigham City. We got them situated in the truck and began our long trek north. We made three vital stops on our journey; lunch at Gator Jacks in Rigby, Idaho where the huckleberry lemonade and sandwiches are delish; Trouthunter in Island Park to pick up a boat to haul up to Adipose; and Three Dollar Bridge on the Madison for, well, you know…..

We spent a few short, but wonderful hours fishing around Three Dollar Bridge. It was as productive as always. Heidi and Ryan received a proper introduction to Montana, I think. They seemed happy. Except Ryan, who though I was Heidi at one point and scolded me for not giving him the right flies. It was hilarious when he realized I wasn’t who he thought I was. He made up for it by taking a few photos of the fish I was landing (while he was scolding me). I spent too much time trying to get a few risers to take my flies. Sadly, they beat me. Jared and Heidi cleaned up catching several nice fish.

After the anticipation of fishing was gone, the stretch from Three Dollar to Helena was long. We got in town about 8p and met Shelly and Jesse Ball (via Bozeman) at our Super 8 Motel. We handed off the boat and headed to dinner and a tasty little Mexican joint. Dinner was great. We crashed hard and dreamt of big fish on the MO.

We met Shelly and Jesse bright and early and they led us to the home of Adipose where we met up with Cody who works at Adipose and picked up a boat for Jared to row. We drove about 45 minutes to Craig, Montana. It was a gorgeous drive through a canyon that screamed “elk country”. Craig is a cool little fishing town that contains fly shops and that’s about it. I saw a t-shirt in one of them that said Craig is a small drinking town with a large fishing problem. That shirt fits this town perfectly. I am sure that the population of Craig more than doubles every Saturday morning. We shopped around the Trouthunter and found a few necessary goodies. Trouthunter is an eclectic little shop with great goods and people.

We also met up with Justin and his boat in Craig. After gearing up, we made a short drive to a gorgeous put in on the Missouri; I honestly cannot imagine a prettier spot on the river. But I was wrong; there were many more spots where I could hardly concentrate for the beauty. I took a while to get on the fish, but I caught a nice rainbow on a streamer by a cliff area where I was watching a bald eagle. And so it went. We didn’t catch a lot of fish, but the fish that were caught were all respectable. A few miles before the take out, Jared and I actually had a double going. I landed my rainbow while Jared’s took a dive under the boat and broke off. That would have been a cool pic. We got to the take out right as it got dark. After getting the boats and gear taken care of we went back to Craig and ate at the only restaurant, Izaak’s. It was really good, and pricey. Back to the Super 8. Out!

In retrospect, after an eight hour straight shot back to Utah, we should have headed back early and stopped on the Beaverhead or Big Hole to fish and break up the drive. Instead, we put in at Craig and did a shorter float. It was okay, but slow. Ryan rode in our boat this time. We got into the fish a few times. I caught a few nice browns, one on a streamer. I did do quite a bit of rowing. It was great water for figuring out the ins and outs.

I really would have liked another day on the MO. Sadly though, it was time to leave and make the long, long drive home. I absolutely loved meeting Jesse, Cody and Ryan, and floating the mighty MO. We will definitely be back. Thanks Shelly for being the super hostess! And thanks to Adipose for lending us another great ride!

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Hitting the Local Rivers

The Logan 10/17/13 – I took Jared up to that new spot on the Logan. I had purchased a furled line earlier in the week and was excited to see what the hubbub was all about. Frankly, if you want to remember how it felt the first time you threw a fly, tie one of these on. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right. Meanwhile, Jared hooked into a few, including a really nice cut; now his new fav fishing hole too.

The Blacksmith Fork 10/18/13 - A quick trip up to the top of the canyon only produced a few fish. It was nice that the fish are still hitting the hoppers. The hopper dropper is a lovely combo. I startled a few deer and I made my way through the thick bushes. It was a pretty evening. Jared did catch a bigger whitey. I think we haven’t been giving whiteys the credit they deserve. Really any fish on the end of the line is a good fish. I think the problem with whiteys is that they are so damn ugly. So, I propose that from now on we photograph them tail first. Keep that nasty face off of the camera. The furled leader was a little better today.

The Narrows 10/19/13 - Our friends, Troy & Kevin, joined our family for a trip up to the Narrows. It was a perfect day. Yesterday Jared picked up a “spare” rod for the boat. He got a Redington Vapen Red 6 wt. from Round Rocks. It is a little weird looking as it has a red rubber grip, but it felt nice and the price was perfect. There were no huge fish caught, but fish were caught. I took the new rod first and chucked a pretty little tan and gold streamer that Jared tied the night before. My first fish was an odd little 14 incher that was missing a nose. I have never seen anything like it. It was actually cute. We decided to call it a “fith”, as I am sure if he could speak he would have a pronounced, but adorable lisp. Spunky little guy to go after a big streamer like he did. Jared worked with Paige and taught her to nymph. Paige was excited when they saw a fish near the bank and she fished to it. She actually caught it but some moss helped it sneak off. Troy and Kevin caught a few too. Jack played with trains in the mud on the bank, and the dogs ran and ran. We really like the new rod. I throws so well and is very forgiving which is what I need as I continue to learn. We stopped at the NY Deli on Preston for a yummy bite. I had the Reuben and was completely happy.

Logan 10/25/13 - Jared and I got away for a few hours and went up on the Logan. The new favorite hole was occupied, so we drove up to the next pullout. We found a few new pockets that we will revisit again and again. There were fish rising so we spent most of the time trying to entice them. I gave up after they hit my hopper 10 times but wouldn’t take it. I went under and netted a couple of decent cuts. We went back to the other hole and pulled out a fish or two.

Black Canyon 10/26/13 – Jared, Jared, the dogs and I drove up to Niter to see what BC was looking like. We got there around, 2p, after stopping at the NY Deli for a Philly. The canyon was beautiful, the 60 degree temps perfect, no wind. We got there during a BWO hatch. Every time I looked up Jared had a new one on. I fared well too catching my share on the dries. Jared caught a bigger one in the last hole, but most were 12-14 inches. And, Jared caught a “fith”! What is up with these? I will have to ask the Idaho fish cops, if I ever see one. He tried to get a pic, but it was feisty. Jack had a great time playing on the bank with his trains. Those trains were made for river boulders. He even found a 4’ 2x4 that he toted back to the bridge. Good times!

The Narrows 11/02/13 – The kid’s basketball season started unexpectedly so our plans to hit Black Canyon all day were thwarted. We called an audible and left for the Narrows right after the 1p game. After a tasty pulled pork and coleslaw sandwich at the NY Deli, we were ready for fishing I can’t even speak of my fish because all pales in comparison to the monster that Jared hooked into. 25”easily–a brut of a brown. We have been fishing here for 20 years looking for that fish. Epic!

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The Madison - 11/9-10/2103

Happy Anniversary to us! 17 happy years of fishing together!

There was 6 inches of snow at the cabin. Temps were in the low 20’s when we left Saturday morning. Our destination was West Yellowstone, an apparent ghost town. The ONLY thing open besides McDonald’s was the restaurant at a hotel, the Holiday Inn. We fueled up and hoped the shops would be open by the time we were done. They weren’t. Oh well, it saved us money.

We started our day just up the road from West on the deep and slow moving section of the Madison. We parked on a bluff that overlooked the river. A herd of buffalo grazed on the bend we were hoping to fish. They slowly moved away as we fished toward them. Both Jared and I stripped streamers at first. I switched to a nymph rig and back to a streamer and back and back and back until I lost the beautiful olive and purple streamer Jared tied for me. I had a few hits on a streamer but no fish on this section. Bummer. Last year we were here in the fall with Josh and Jen and I hooked into a huge one. I fought it and it went into the submerged pine tree and got hung up. I had to break off and it swam away. I wanted to meet up with that guy again today. Jared caught a really nice brown.

We moved down between the lakes and fished for a while. I couldn’t quite wade to the spot I had my eye on. I almost got stuck in the current. I have done that before. Luckily, each time Jared has been close enough to hear me yell and come to my rescue. I lost my other olive and purple streamer too. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, behind me; I have no idea how it happened. Jared found a few whiteys at the bottom of the island. We moved on to the bridges.

Three dollar had a few cars, but no one was in the river. Lately I have been suckered into starting in holes right by the truck. Dumb, dumb. I wasted too much time there with few results. I moved up to hole Jared had already hit and finally gave up. Dinner at Pond’s Lodge was pretty much our only choice. IP too had become a ghost town. We sat with a neighbor of ours from back home. He had fished the lake today and the wind kicked their butts. The roasted chicken dinner was delicious. We went back to the cabin exhausted.

We went straight to Three Dollar Sunday morning. The parking lot on the south side was empty, as was the north one. Just as we were almost ready to head out another truck pulled in. The entire lot was vacant, and he parks four feet from us. Then, he gets out and asks us what side we were fishing. We said, “Um, this one.” Me too he says and seriously follows us up the river. We stopped at the little island hole and exhausted it. The guy stood behind us in the bushes for a while and then moved 20 yards to the next hole and stepped in. As soon as we left our hole he was in it. Seriously! What a douche.

There wasn’t a soul on the other side so I walked around. I went to a hole straight across from the guy and proceeded to pull out two respectable rainbows. I fought them a little longer than necessary just to rub it in. The first one took me about 30 yards down river. I climbed over rock and log and prayer my feet were on solid ground. I was a little impressed with my nimble-ness, for once. I moved up river and had a few hits. The hot fly was an olive and black caddis emerger. Jared gave it to me and promised it would be hot. About 5 yards past the fence, I hooked into a big brown. Man he fought hard! He jumped and shook and used the current to take me way down stream. Just as I was about to net him he swan in toward my feet, thrashed and was off. Ahhhh! It would have been the fish of the day for sure. Cool moment when I was standing on the big rock by the fallen log....there was a large back eddy of foam up against the log. Fish were sipping the flies dotting the foam. Neato!

I fished back up and dinked around a little, but it was pretty close to go time so I took the high trail with the dogs and headed back. Just before crossing the fence I went back to the river and dipped my line one more time. Bingo! Another brown. Another fighter.

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Local Rivers

I went to my spot on the Logan a few times, but never really did anything worth mentioning. During one of those visits I gave up on my furled leader. It proved to be very inconsistent when switching from dries to nymphs. Despite the snow and temps in the 30’s I was still fishing a dry dropper. One day I used a big old royal wulff and the fish hit it but never took. That’s almost as fun.

I had a few hours to kill one morning so I geared up and went up Blacksmith Fork Canyon. I stopped at a camp pull off and tried water I had never fished before. I was better looking than I thought. I caught a few wee ones on a nymph rig. Just as I got to a fast chute I lost my rig in the trees. It was almost time to go and I was down to the thick leader so I tied on a small streamer. Jared made me a handful of mini streamers for our mini rivers; perfect for my 2 and 3 wts. I chucked a brown and yellow on up a deep side run and let it dead drift down. To my astonishment, a lunker came out of the shadows and followed it. Just then my alarm went off. Time to goto work.

I went up for another hour two days later and tried to figure out how to run a streamer through there. It is tight and the fish sit in a back eddy that it just out of reach. I did get it there once and hooked into THE fish. He tugged twice, jumped and shook me off. Wow! I have been up there several times since and I just can’t quite master that hole. I think I have about two tries before I spook the entire run. This may be the death of me, but I am determined. I found another stretch above that is good too. It could be a good winter.

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The Narrows 11/23/2013

After a few early morning basketball games, we geared up and headed north to the Narrows. Troutchicks Heidi & Emily were already there, exploring new water. We caught up with them on the bend before the campground. The wind was blowing and they were in the shade. I was having none of that. We coaxed them a few miles up into the bright sun, below the bridge.

Emily spied a run below the trees and Jared followed her down. Heidi and I walked another couple hundred yards and started chucking streamers just below the rapids. Three casts and I had a medium sized rainbow, then another and another. Triplets. I caught all three on a black and purple articulated streamer.

Jared and Heidi were soon down to the island and then out of sight. I saw Emily hook into one which popped right off. I walked up to see what she was up to. She was taking it easy today and fishing through some pain. We walked down to the pig farm and I left her on the jedi. I fished down to the lower side of the island, spied on the others and fished back up past Emily. I really wasn’t having much luck. I took a break and went to the truck for a treat.

Back on the river but on the other side. I fished into the middle and spied a few tasty spots on the other side. Trying to wade over I got stuck. It was one of those moments where if I move my left foot I’m going in and if I move my right foot I’m going over. Yikes. I could see Jared making his way back; my knight. But before he got to me I managed to spin a little on my down river foot and get free. He stepped into my hoe and caught my fish. Darn it. Funny thing, a fish kept taking his indicator and pulling it under, the indicator, not the flies. Weird. Well, I was done. I went back to the truck and Emily and I talked until the others got back.

Of course, we stopped at the NY Deli on our way home. Emily & Heidi were anxious to get back do theirs was to go. Jared and I sat through another tasty sandwich. It was a good day. I hope we get many more this winter.

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Fishing in the COLD! December 2013

After Thanksgiving the temps in Northern Utah and everywhere else dropped to the freaking freezing levels. Jared and I decided to hang it up for a while; it was just too darn cold. Then along came my introduction to Trout Porn Nation’s World Leader Board and their fishing contests. I was seeing posts on FB about men v women and points and the like and could not put the puzzle together. I messaged Shelly and she told me about TPN and WLB. I was in. A men v women weekend was underway, and I was back in the game.

I met Jared for lunch on the 6th. We transferred gear to his truck and headed up the Logan River to a spot below Third Dam. I left my boots in my car. I hardly ever wear my snow boots, but there they were, on my feet. I pulled the liners out and pulled them on. Perfect--or good enough. It was 11 degrees when we got on the water. I had rigged up my 2 and 3 weight rods before I left home. In this cold I figured it best to not have my hands out too often. We fished for a little over an hour. I started with a good run, but could not get any takers. I met up with Jared after trying get a few bigger ones to get up off of the bottom below a bridge. No luck. Jared took me up to his hole and I tried to get onto a fish before we had to go. He traded rods with me saying that his set up was better. I made a dozen casts with no luck before spotting a good picture to take and giving up. Before I could even get out my camera he had a fish on with MY ROD! I took my pictures and pouted all the way back to the truck.

We had a few hours to spare on the morning of the 8^th, so we bundled up and headed up to the mouth of Blacksmith Fork Canyon. There are a few holes by near a footbridge that rarely disappoint. We trekked through the snow and were surprised to find that river was almost totally frozen over. We shouldn’t have been surprised as it was 9 degrees and this particular bend rarely gets sun. I tried to run a fly down a slit in the center, but it was dangerous. In the open water we could see that the river bottom was a light blue. The river was actually icing over on the bottom and top. We moved down the road a half mile to a sunny spot. No fish were caught, but it was nice to be out.

I earned 2 points for the women, but we still lost. Apparently there are 700 men on the WLB and only 20 women. If we look at the ratio, the women definitely won.

It was a men v women again the next weekend. I had an hour on Friday and ran over to the Wellsville pond. It is actually a reservoir, but it bugs the locals when I call it a pond, so I do. The south end by the footbridge was not frozen so I chucked streamer with the Redington Vapen Rod. There were fish surfacing, but just out of my reach. I was picking up too much vegetation, so I gave up. When I got home the mailman was just dropping off a package to me from Vermont. I few weeks back I won a Facebook giveaway from Rock River Rods; a reel. I had been mad dogging the mailman every day. It was beautiful and smooth. I had Jared set it up that night with the line from my Sage 1850. It would be a great reel for my Sage RPL 5 weight, which hasn’t been fished since I broke it chucking streamers on the MO.

After a morning of basketball games Jared and I headed up to the Narrow’s. The reel was so smooth. I went to a honey hole and stripped streamers following Jared’s routine of streamers down and nymphs up. The temp was in the mid 20’s and there was a slight wind. I stayed warm except for the tips of the toes on my left foot. I met up with Jared as I neared the bridge. He had gone up by the dam, but only caught two modest bows. I finally caught a 13 inch bow, and then another. We fished until dusk and headed out. Like idiots, we gorged on gas station food on the way up and had no appetite for the New York Deli on the way home. What were we thinking?!?!?!

This is the review I sent to Rock River: Love this reel! These are my first fish. Slow day at 27°. The reel was smooth. It never froze despite several dips in the river while chipping ice off my guides. Can't say that about my Lamson, Sage or Galvin. Smooth and gorgeous. Thank you so much!

The women lost again, but mathematically we kicked butt.

On the 17^th I ran up to the spot below Third Dam for a few hours. I didn’t catch anything, but I tested out the Kast Steelhead gloves Santa was giving me. They are great. I unhooked several underwater snags with no effect to my skin. The sun was out and it was so nice; still high teens, but nice. I think the lack of fish may be due to a high viz orange leader I was using. It floated awkwardly on top of the water and I think it scared the fish. I was totally entertained by the dippers flitting around the river. The American Dipper is a portly little grey bird that lives near rushing water. He dives in and out of the water and stays under for quite a while. I read that the dipper runs along the bottom with his wings out catching bugs. Silly little guys.

On the 20^th the Combat Fly Fishing FB site began a weekend ugly Christmas sweater fly fishing contest. I was so in. My initial attempt to borrow a sweater fell through, so I called Missy and she met me in town with a few ugly sweaters to choose from. Jared and I got on the BSF Sunday afternoon. The sweater was not comfortable, nor warm. Fortunately, it was the warmest day of fishing so far in December; 30 degrees. I fished one hole while Jared took a few pics. I was hoping to get a fish pic, but I slipped and dunked my left arm in and the sweater fun was over; knit cotton in heavy when wet. Jared and I fished side by side up the river. I caught two decent ones, a brown and then a cutt with really orange fins around his belly. Jared got into a nice brown. It was one of the most enjoyable days fishing for sure. I got home and posted my sweater pic. I ended up in the top three and they had their followers vote for the winner. Honestly, Dan’s sweater was better, uglier, but I gave a shout out to my friends, family and coworkers and hoped for the best. I came in third. I appreciate all who voted, except my sheriff’s wife—she voted for Dan. I sure hope Jared doesn’t forget who to vote for come November!

Santa is a fly fisherman at heart, and he gifted me all of the things I asked for…..Korker Aluma trax soles for my boots, a Madison River Fishing company hoody, a buff, Kast gloves (surprise), Simms fleece gloves, and various small items. He also gave our family a Go Pro. That will be a lot of fun on the boat for sure.

With a few days off after Christmas, I was anxious to try out my Korker Aluma Trax. Jared worked a half day on the 26^th and we headed up to explore a new bend on the BSF. It was 18 degrees, but it felt colder. I found a good spot, but it was deep and tree covered. I was in and out of the river with no success until I tried above a bridge. I watched a two bigger fish sway back and forth, but I couldn’t figure out how to get to them without scaring them. I slid down to the river and they scurried away. I knotted up three times in a row. My hands were frozen. I gave up. Walking back I spotted a couple more fish and made mental notes as to their locations. I really like the Kast gloves. They are hard to get in and out of for the delicate tasks, but they were warm and dry. I switched to my Simms fleece at the bridge. The must be defective gloves because the thumb covers do not pull over the thumbs all the way. It was annoying. I was frozen by the time I tried one more hole and then fled to the truck. My toes were ice! Poor things. When I pulled my boots off at hole they were bright red. Good news though, the Korker soles were money. They gripped like crazy. Not good on the icy road though. Thumbs up! Jared caught two and recorded both on the Go Pro which was strapped to his noggin. Cool video.

Our final fishing day was east of Salt Lake at a river not talked about among decent people. We ran into the River Damsel and shared a good many holes. The temps were in the high teens and chilly, but we fished most of the day. We each caught our fair share of large browns. They were hunkered down in large numbers in the deep holes, buttaking our flies. It was a great day.