Sunday started at 5am with a cruise up Parley's, weighing the pros and cons of the Middle bwo's, or the Weber caddis. Due to inconsistent water levels and the inevitable elbow to elbow fishing, they kept on I-80 for the smaller Weber water. Bow noticed some frost on the hillside and looked at the temp. gauge to see it was a surprising 28 degrees. Bundling up, Rico waded out and threw a large Copper John. He sunk into a few good whitefish, but wanted browns. The water was low, and the sun high, so they focused on deeper holes. Around eleven, Bow noticed rocks along the bank thickly spotted. Upon closer inspection, those spots were size 16 Mother's Day Caddis. When noon came, the bushes vibrated with insects, and Bow noticed about 40 resting on his jacket. No luck from the San Juan nor the Platte Spider, so he took natures hint and tied on a green, size 18 caddis emerger. By 1, the air was full of green fluttering flies, hitting Rico and Bow in the face like Little Cottonwood snowflakes. At that point breathing through the mouth was risky, and the occasional caddis found his way into a nostril. As much as Bow loved their presence, he couldn't help but succumb to the distraction. Reeling up to shake off as many as he could, he also noticed Rico was the landing pad for about a hundred of them. Undeterred, Rico kept casting, waiting for his first brown. Crawling up to a few holes, Bow was able to get two smaller fish. And further up, the river bordered a large Alpaca farm. Being respectful of the landowner, Bow stayed within the high water mark and spotted a good hole. At it's head were boulders 6-12 inches apart, requiring precise placement. Making a few false casts to dial in angle and distance, Bow noticed a white, bushy animal running towards him. Too small to be an Alpaca, but Bow was intrigued. He made out a head, tail and soon straightened up when he heard barking. It was not slowing, so Bow picked up a large stick. Stopping three feet away, a huge, puffy white dog barked and snarled. As much as Bow wanted it unconscious, he knew it belonged to the landowner, and didn't want to lose access for everyone over something he could walk away from. However, determined to catch a fish, he held the stick in one hand and his rod in the other, with much more attention to fly placement. Three casts later his indicator stopped just past a boulder, then made it's way back upstream. Setting the hook, line started zipping off his reel as the trout headed back behind the boulder. Now shifting both hands to the rod, Bow yelled at the dog while trying to get the fish back to open water. Rico heard all the commotion and ran up to help.
He managed to scare off the dog long enough for Bow to land the thick, healthy brown. This trout made the effort worthwhile, so Rico and Bow headed back downstream for less stressful fishing. Still without catching a trout, Rico was determined to break his whitefish streak. He saw a bulge in the surface and made a few casts. Bow, being much less patient, headed downstream only to glance back and see Rico's rod bent from a dancing brown. He brought in his first one of the day, breaking the spell and subsequently landing three more on a caddis emerger before heading home. With the hatch this good, Rico and Bow are sure to be back this week with plenty of caddis patterns, and a few dog treats.
Sunday started at 5am with a cruise up Parley's, weighing the pros and cons of the Middle bwo's, or the Weber caddis. Due to inconsistent water levels and the inevitable elbow to elbow fishing, they kept on I-80 for the smaller Weber water. Bow noticed some frost on the hillside and looked at the temp. gauge to see it was a surprising 28 degrees. Bundling up, Rico waded out and threw a large Copper John. He sunk into a few good whitefish, but wanted browns. The water was low, and the sun high, so they focused on deeper holes. Around eleven, Bow noticed rocks along the bank thickly spotted. Upon closer inspection, those spots were size 16 Mother's Day Caddis. When noon came, the bushes vibrated with insects, and Bow noticed about 40 resting on his jacket. No luck from the San Juan nor the Platte Spider, so he took natures hint and tied on a green, size 18 caddis emerger. By 1, the air was full of green fluttering flies, hitting Rico and Bow in the face like Little Cottonwood snowflakes. At that point breathing through the mouth was risky, and the occasional caddis found his way into a nostril. As much as Bow loved their presence, he couldn't help but succumb to the distraction. Reeling up to shake off as many as he could, he also noticed Rico was the landing pad for about a hundred of them. Undeterred, Rico kept casting, waiting for his first brown. Crawling up to a few holes, Bow was able to get two smaller fish. And further up, the river bordered a large Alpaca farm. Being respectful of the landowner, Bow stayed within the high water mark and spotted a good hole. At it's head were boulders 6-12 inches apart, requiring precise placement. Making a few false casts to dial in angle and distance, Bow noticed a white, bushy animal running towards him. Too small to be an Alpaca, but Bow was intrigued. He made out a head, tail and soon straightened up when he heard barking. It was not slowing, so Bow picked up a large stick. Stopping three feet away, a huge, puffy white dog barked and snarled. As much as Bow wanted it unconscious, he knew it belonged to the landowner, and didn't want to lose access for everyone over something he could walk away from. However, determined to catch a fish, he held the stick in one hand and his rod in the other, with much more attention to fly placement. Three casts later his indicator stopped just past a boulder, then made it's way back upstream. Setting the hook, line started zipping off his reel as the trout headed back behind the boulder. Now shifting both hands to the rod, Bow yelled at the dog while trying to get the fish back to open water. Rico heard all the commotion and ran up to help.
He managed to scare off the dog long enough for Bow to land the thick, healthy brown. This trout made the effort worthwhile, so Rico and Bow headed back downstream for less stressful fishing. Still without catching a trout, Rico was determined to break his whitefish streak. He saw a bulge in the surface and made a few casts. Bow, being much less patient, headed downstream only to glance back and see Rico's rod bent from a dancing brown. He brought in his first one of the day, breaking the spell and subsequently landing three more on a caddis emerger before heading home. With the hatch this good, Rico and Bow are sure to be back this week with plenty of caddis patterns, and a few dog treats.
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