One Week at The Ranch

Spring in Utah marks the peak of fishing in many waters. Temperatures increase, insect activity picks up, and waters have had a break from pressure during winter. 

During one of his first spring outings, Bow thought about throwing midges on the Middle, or dawning his waders to fish low water on the Weber. One Saturday while driving through town, Bow noticed a fair amount of snow on grassy expanses in parks, fields, and golf courses. One course had a stream flowing through. Bow instinctively pulled over, looking for activity. Sitting a few minutes, he saw many head and tail rises at the end of a long run. Generally speaking, Bow experiences difficulty obtaining permission fishing golf courses. He looked across the way to see a familiar car pull into a driveway. After further investigation, the car belonged to a girl Bow attended college with, and her dad was a member of the golf club. Fortunately, Bow was able to fish the snow-filled course as a guest and not worry about golf balls coming his way.

He began at the edge of the course, working his way upstream using a size 18 Copper John and a size 20 Beadhead Peacone Midge dropper. His excitement began on the second cast as his indicator dipped in a deep hole. He pulled an 11" brown, and proceeded to pin two more the same size. He moved upstream, watching trout bulge and sometimes burst the surface after midge clusters. Even in steady success, Bow was tempted to tie on the first dry of the season.

Sticking to what worked, Bow dead-drifted the double rig, picking up fish in a 50/50 manner between the two flies. After fishing only a few hundred feet through the course, the sun began to disappear. Sticking 20, landing 12, Bow marched through the snow with a smile firmly cemented on his face.

That night Bow stayed in a hotel with some friends by the river, and was able to hit it again the next day. Over night it had snowed considerably and Bow feared turbidity. As he drove down to rivers edge, his concerns were apparent. The water had clarity of chocolate milk, thus techniques would have to change. He first threw the nymph rig from the day before to see the degree of murkiness. After a few flat drifts, Bow changed his approach to a size 12 White Crystal Flash Bugger. He stripped it across, swung it down, and ripped it through every deep run and hole to be found, but with no result. After 6 hours wading through knee deep snow, Bow walked upstream to find a bend with feeding trout. Focused on activity rather than terrain, Bow slowly crept around a tree until he took one small step off the bank. Slipping feet first, he found the river bottom with a loud splash. The activity quickly stopped. Already soaked, he decided to continue wading up. He finally pulled one out of principle, released it, and headed back for the day.

After leaving for almost a week, Bow returned Thursday to light snow and stained water. Trout were rising steadily, again keyed on emerging and mating midges. This scenario was similar to the first venture Saturday, so he threw the same double nymph rig. Bow cast to the run, without getting so much as a sniff. He knew these trout didn't get much pressure, surprising Bow in their selectivity. He reeled up, snipped off, and sat back to observe. Some midge clusters were picked off and others ignored, puzzling Bow. Location didn't seem to matter: many trout moved well out of their feeding lanes to sip clusters. Bow focused on a smaller sipping Brown, looking for any pattern to its rises. Bow took note of every cluster. He found those ignored were moving on the surface less so than others. Bow thought for a moment and tied on a size 20 Griffith's Gnat. He tried a few times with a dead drift but couldn't move any fish. He switched to an across and upstream presentation, occasionally stripping a few inches, imitating natural movement. First cast a Brown darted and Bow finally hooked up. Using this technique, Bow pulled three more from the hole, even landing an uncommon Cutthroat.

Bow continued up, only stopping to tie a fresh Gnat. In one bend, a seam was made between a deep run adjacent to slack water. The Gnat was cast with a wiggle of the rod tip to the slack water with the rest of the line taken in by the run. This made the fly swirl in an "S" shape. Coming through its second curve, a 17" golden flash enveloped the fly. Quick on the trigger, Bow felt the fish's weight only a moment before having it spat back. A bit disappointed, Bow chuckled at his inability to pause for the full take. He pulled a few more in redemption and headed home.

The next day brought overcast skies, silty water, and no visible hatches. Bow went from the Griffith's of yesterday to the original double nymph rig. Fishing through a few holes without success, Bow reeled up and scoped things out. He picked up a few loose golf balls and saw an object darting in his peripheral. Looking over, there was a small Sculpin sifting through silt. Intriguing Bow, he tied on a feathery Sculpin and slung it to a deep hole. First cast, an abrupt jerk bent the rod but didn't hold. Second cast Bow let the fly sink deeper, stripping in slow twitches. He made a slight pause when the rod tip darted and line went taught. Bow cocked his wrist quickly for a solid hook set. Line peeled from the reel as Bow angled his rod around bridge pilings and loose brush. After a few tense minutes the fish tired and Bow caught a glimpse. A speckled golden Brown made one final dart for the brush; Bow luckily turned the Brown on it's side and brought him in. This was the only trout he managed that day, but a solid trout it was.

Bow knew he was on to something and returned the next day. Fortunately the sun was out and the silt disappeared, unfortunately the snow did as well. This would be the last weekend open to fish the course, so Bow dialed in quickly. Sporadic hatches, few fish rising, and harsh sunlight drove the fish deep. Bow knew aggressive trout would hit a swung streamer, so he dead-drifted along the bottom, stripping the end of each run. He skipped riffles and seams to focus on deeper runs and holes. His first attempts snagged bottom, but after a few adjustments he gained confidence. Casting to a run, he saw his indicator stop again. This time he pulled back to have his indicator shoot downstream. He made a second hook set and followed the fish. Bow brought the trout in sooner than was ready, getting splashed in the face as it bolted back in. Bow continued to power-fish far up the river as he pulled at least one 17" or better per hole.

He finally came to a rocky cascade pouring into three separate, deep runs. With the same dead drift, Bow pulled another brightly spotted Brown. Casting into the middle run, Bow's indicator stopped just as thefly entered. He pulled tight with excitement only to be stopped dead. Not wanting to lose this pattern, Bow walked above the snag to pull from a better angle. Bow continued to pull until it slowly gave, as if dislodging a log. Moving slowly downstream, Bow was unable to bring it to the surface. With as much force as his Winston could handle, Bow pulled the fly to the side until it suddenly popped out, flying onto the fairway behind him. Bow reeled up and inspected his fly, finding something surprising stuck to the hook point.  Bow looked at his fly, then water, then back to his fly, in awe of what the snag actually was.

Hoping for another opportunity, Bow stayed at the falls; casting repeatedly to similar currents. Picking up a few more Browns, Bow moved above the falls for an aggressive approach. He cast across and swung the Sculpin downstream. First cast resulted in a spriteful Cutt, followed by two more in the 14-16" range.

Putting in a few more successful hours, Bow called it a day and walked back down the course. He stopped for a few at the falls, hoping he would somehow see the fish he stole a scale from. To no surprise the river kept its secret, and Bow continued on.

That week at the ranch gave him the most diverse set of circumstances in which to fish. From weather, to water clarity, to fish activity, Bow was thrown something new every day. One almost getting skunked, and the next hooking fish every five minutes. Although the course is now inaccessible, he felt lucky to explore, and satisfied with his adaptability. Beyond soaked jeans, Bow took home two very important principles: Never judge the river in a day, and always make a solid hook set; that log might very well turn into a hog.