Up Sweet Creek

Most outdoorsman similar to Rico and Bow like to think they're completely prepared walking into nature with a fly rod, backpack, and plenty of ambition. Generally everything works out, with nothing more than a few bruises and scratches suffered from the trip. There are those rare occasions where mother nature gets bored and decides to throw a mix of wild animals and inclement weather at the fisherman. One such case happened to Bow and friend Cody. Late last October in the backwoods of eastern Utah, many were out hitting the last of the elk season. Cody found a stretch of stream during one of his youth group adventures earlier that year. He saw slow curves and serene holes, tipping him off to big fish. He wasn't equipped with his rod, but took note of the spot. Bow was fortunate enough to receive an invite, and they headed out that weekend. This being an experimental spot, their female counterparts joined the adventure. As the red rock turned to granite, a look of nostalgic excitement came over Cody's face. He pointed to a pullout and they hurried to get the gear out of the car. Every five seconds was a hasty glance at the water until the rods were up and the flies on. Bow tied on a bushy, black bunny leech, adding a pinch of lead at the head. At this point the girls knew what to expect, realizing camp would either be set up by them, or in the dark upon Cody and Bows return.

They slowly made their approach, and with the nod of his head, Bow signaled Cody to make the first cast. Bow looked on not knowing what to expect, when a flash of gold came from the depths. Cody's line went tight, his reel whined, and his rod bent in a beautiful arch: the first fish was on. The fight was kept deep until Cody was able to get his line over a submerged log. He was rewarded with a beautiful golden cutthroat, looking as though it had never been caught before. With two big grins and a high five, they crept down to the next bend. Bow unhooked his leech and made a long cast, letting the fly sink. Three small strips later he felt the rod jerk from his hands as a Cutt came from below. Bow fought the fish to the shallows only to see three others following close behind. Cody and Bow looked at each other, wondering how many fish could populate such a small stream. From there they leap-frogged each bend, pulling out eager Cutts with each cast. The sun was almost set, so they headed back up looking forward to warm tents and a calm night.

Bow woke up with the hair standing on the back of his neck. Still pitch black outside, he looked out and saw five large, black objects surrounding the campsite. They weren't making any movement, but Bow wasn't any less tense. After several, eternal minutes, one of the black objects inched closer to his tent. Bow reached for his knife and calmly woke up his girl next to him. Quieting her whimpers, he assured her things would be fine. Ready to unzip and scare whatever was outside, a familiar smell hit him. Something very similar to manure wafted through the tent, confusing yet comforting Bow at the same time. The large black object revealed itself to be none other than a dairy cow. Bow unclenched his knife, and laughed a little as he caught his breath. And although taking the better part of an hour, he was able to fall back asleep for the night.

The next day came with much anticipation as Cody and Bow rigged up for round two. Despite the warm weather the previous day, there had been rain, and frost on the tents as they woke up. Undeterred, they rigged up and made a game plan. Giving the original stretch  a break, they headed upstream and split the radios with the girls. The same promise of downstream held true on the venture up: every hole filled with Cutt after Cutt. They neared the end of a fishable section when static started through the radio. Muffled cries came through, and Cody made out the word "moose". Realizing the seriousness of the situation, they reeled up and ran back down to camp. The girls were huddled behind a tree, but there was nothing else around. Looking at the them perturbed, Bow asked why they were crying. They pointed to the ground, then the creek. Two sets of large moose tracks ran through the campsite not two feet from the fire pit, and the creek was muddied right where they led. A bull moose and  cow  had been spooked from the gunfire and sprinted through as the girls were cooking. After things settled, the trout called Cody and Bow back upstream. Landing two more, they heard the girls again over the radio. Not hesitating, they ran back expecting to divert the attention of angry moose. When they came to the camp there were no moose, but instead a pacing black bear across the creek.

The bear seemed curious of what was cooking, rather than those cooking it. He wouldn't cross the creek, but made everyone afraid to even break eye contact. The bear became more restless, and Bow thought on any experience he might have with this situation. He knew black bears were generally skittish to aggresive behavior, and he remembered his girl brought her .380 just in case. He had Cody yell at the bear while he quietly made his way toward the tent. The bear stopped pacing, with a dead-lock on Cody. Bow hurried to ready the pistol and chamber a round. He took a few steps toward the creek, trying to fight the shake from his aim. As much as Bow didn't want to shoot a curious animal, he didn't want to be in the newspaper with his three friends. Steadying the barrel he took a few more steps to the waters edge, minimizing the number of shots necessary. When he and Cody made it to this point, the bear put it's head down, paused, and slowly backed away. There was no hurry, just a slow meander away from the creek, as if nothing happened. Shaking, Bow scanned the area, finally ejecting the round. After calming down, Cody and Bow decided to bring both gun and girls this time upstream.

They broke through the brush with a little more hesitancy, but the fear made the fishing that much more desirable. There were smaller holes and a few shallow riffles, but no possible honey holes in sight. They trekked over dead fall and through marsh, keeping an eye far downstream. Before long, they ended up in a small clearing with dark water and a beaver dam. The two looked at each other, knowing this hole would make the trip. Paying his respect, Bow again gave Cody first cast. Not two seconds into his retrieve, Cody had a jolting hit, but couldn't keep it pinned. A few more casts and an excited woop from Cody signaled a big fish. One of the most exciting 45 second periods of the trip, Bow did everything he could to direct the girls, aid Cody in the fight, and finally get a picture. The biggest smile Bow had ever seen from Cody happened as he held up a gorgeous, golden, kype-jawed Cutt. And despite a tinge of jealously, Bow was ecstatic to see this fish pulled out. Cody released the trout, watching it saunter back to its hole.

The two landed a few more fish, then headed back to camp before any animals joined them again. They were all a little wary when they broke down camp, even jumping when chipmunks scurried by. Mother nature gave Cody and Bow a reality check they would remember, embellish, and tell to all their friends. They would forever realize: wilderness is a lot closer than you think.

ATST 2

One of the more important techniques to learn, reach casting is quite useful. This cast not only involves reaching, but angling with respect to you body. This is used for difficult cross-currents, overhanging trees, and drifting around large boulders.

2. Reach Casting: The standard cast is parallel to the direction the fisherman is facing, with line shooting horizontally, and falling vertically. When trying to avoid an obstacle or ensure a drag free drift, often times the cast needs to be made at the right angle to get the fly in the feeding lane. This portion of the reach cast  is easy once there is comfort with the basic cast, only requiring practice. The second part of this cast has to do with  line turnover. Depending on how much power is put into the cast, the line can make a "c", placing the fly around an obstacle, or avoid line drifting over the fish.

American Fork Canyon

                                   
Last weekend TGTAF traveled to American Fork Canyon to scout its lakes and streams.  The first stop was Silver Lake Flat.  Rico and Bow spent two hours at the inlet of this high alpine lake enjoying the views and landing a few fish.  The most effective method of taking trout was to slowly retrieve a size 16 Bronze Collared Midge. TGTAF then headed down the canyon to Tibble Fork Reservoir.  Though the reservoir was recently planted with trout, Rico and Bow passed on fishing there due to the crowds.  The duo then tried their luck in both the middle and lower sections of American Fork Creek and connected with just one trout, a small brown trout on a Bronze Collared Midge.  The fish total for the day was 1 brook, 1 brown and 3 rainbows. 

 

All the Small Things: Part 1

Fly fishing for a number of years can make you oblivious to so many small things that make the difference in an angler of experience, and one just starting out. Fly size, placement, action, method fished, tippet length and diameter, reading water, mending line, and etiquette are all part of an anglers train of thought while pursuing fish. So much of what we do and take pride in as fishermen comes not from the gear we have, but how effectively we use it. Most of these things require time, patience and curiosity, or at least fishing with someone who does. Bow has read over 20 books relating to these aspects of fly fishing, and found a few that can be described to help those pursuing better technique.

Mending Line: Always seeing professionals do it so smoothly, and only reading simple ways to accomplish it, Bow settled for mediocrity in his mending. One day, a tough cross current that held thick trout was not allowing a natural enough drift to pick up any fish. With trout bulging at the surface, Bow had enough, and chose  to focus his energy on making smooth, subtle mends to extend his drift into the trouts' feeding lane. 
1. How To: When the belly of line forms from the differing current, a mend must be made to keep the drift natural. It is always beneficial to do this proactively: The less of belly there is, the easier it is to mend, and the more slack there is to prevent pulling the fly out of position. The physical act of mending should use the wrist and entirety of the rod. Pointing the rod tip where the line enters water (taking any slack), the line should be gently lifted, and smoothly accelerated rotating the wrist (as if flipping over a cup without splashing water). The final note should be made to flick the rod tip during this process to help carry the line. When it comes to practicing, instead of memorizing the details, focus on the phrase, "point, roll, flick".  It took Bow years to effectively do this, and is still improving.

Being Part of The Backcountry

TGTAF has joined Backcountry Hunters and Anglers in support of their effort to preserve aquatic ecosystems in Utah and throughout North America.  Backcountry Hunters & Anglers "seeks to ensure America's outdoor heritage of hunting and fishing in a natural setting, through education and work on behalf of wild public lands and waters."

Green Snow on the Weber

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.

A Guide to Fly Shops

When Bow was a child, he became ecstatic when it was time to go to the fly shop. As luck would have it, good report cards came, and Bow would get to pick out a few new patterns. Growing up, Bow still gets excited, but for more than just flies. Most shops are inundated with copious amounts of  flies and gear for any situation, with guides happy to get to know your fishing level, and advice for the trip out. A good thing to look for in a fly shop doesn't relate to gear, but those selling it. Depending on your level of experience, 90 to 100 out of 100 guides know more than you, as it is their job. Furthermore, any shop in today's world without a friendly, knowledgeable staff doesn't stay in business. If you walk through the door and someone greets you with a smile and a hello, that's the first step. They generally ask one of two things: "Where you been fishing?" or "What can I help you find?". If you are given the first response, chances are you've stepped into the right shop. The initial question dictates whether they are sales focused, or customer focused. By asking where you've been fishing, this adds to their pool of general info which eventually ends up coming back your way. On the other hand, asking what they can find for you implies just making a sale. Bow and Rico have worked at  the same sporting goods store, being in both situations.

The more they focus on the fishing aspect, the more you can trust they want to get you into fish, not your wallet. In Rico's and Bow's experience, Western Rivers Fly Fisher is a solid place to get everything from sound advice to a hot cup of coffee. Of their employees, the more notable ones are Bryce, Nick, and Matt for their knowledge, friendliness, and enthusiasm for the sport. If fly fishing is new to you, the rivers to fish and flies to use can be overwhelming, so it helps to stop by the shop for some direction. The general rule applies as: Any specific info they give on hatches, rivers, or flies, you should pick up one or two small items (i.e. tippet, flies, indicators). A definite sign of appreciation and respect, and helps keep them in business for tomorrow.