Rise for Dries

After a night of very solid partying, laughing and enjoying the company of Santa Cruz's own, Steve Grider, Chris drug me out of bed to hit the river on what was probably the last day of decent fall fishing. The three day forecast called for snow down in the valley and the storm was supposed to hit later that same evening. With the "warm before the storm" upon us, we knew we had a small window of sun shine and decided to hit an "undisclosed" creek for some wader-less dry flying.

According to the guide book, our fishing stream of choice was going to require us to door knock and ask permission from local landowners to fish the untouched stretches of the stream flowing through their private property. With Chris and I both being in sales, we figured we would have no problem convincing the ranchers to let us fish these untouched stretches. After knocking on several doors and approaching cowboys in fields, we quickly learned that we were really not welcome. Most people were polite about it and receptive to the fact that we built up the courage to at least ask, but we certainly stumbled across several people who had a few choice words for us. As Chris about group of cowboys having lunch in the field; I thought we were dead. After learning that there was no way were going to get on anyone's land, we decided to drive up the road a few miles to fish the small public stretch of the creek. We spotted a few good holes, pulled of the road and geared up to get it on before the snow started to fly.

We entered the stream about 100 yards down from our car and figured we would hit a few of the honey holes we saw, while working our way up towards the dam. As we walked into the stream, we quickly saw that the fish were hitting the surface regularly and our blood started to pump. After presenting numerous bugs without yield, we looked at each other and realized we were in for a tough day of fishing. These guys were big, hungry, very smart and very selective; we had our hands full. Required to perform very tight roll casts and present our bugs exceptionally proved to be a difficult task for both Chris and I. After about a half hour of loosing flies in the leaf-less tress, Chris's foam hopper was finally smashed. From the looks of the take, the fish was going to be pretty damn good, that was if we could land it. As soon as it took the hopper, the big guy darted under a tangle of tree roots, where he hid out until I could free hand him out. After about a 5 minute fight (might not sound like much, but considering the size of the stream it was an eternity) we succesfgully netted the fish and this is what we found!

 

After landing this guy, we knew that the river was going to produce, we were just going to have to work very hard at it. We put him back in the water and started to move up the creek in hopes of landing a couple more big beauties.


We stumbled across a number of excellent stretches of water where we could see fish rising to the surface to get their grub on. The trees proved to be my demise, as I continued to loose bugs and get frustrated over the difficult fishing conditions. I was able to present a few bugs perfectly, had a few fish snap at my flies, but was unable to bring anything to the net. It has been a long time since I have been skunked on the many Utah stretches of water, but this creek definitely got the best of me; I blame it on my condition due to the previous evenings party. Here I am missing a fish and struggling to stay alive with the overhanging trees and grassy "fly eating" banks.

We were about to call it a day when we stumbled across an excellent scum line that we knew was going to yield. I flopped a couple tight roll casts deep into the ripple and watched my hopper float through what looked like the stretch of the day. Nothing! I conceded and passed the rod off to Chris to give him a chance at it. Upon laying his first cast into perfect position, we saw what was probably the hardest smash of all time. This fish looked as if it was simply hitting the hopper out of aggression in attempts to kill it prior to consumption. We looked at each other is disbelief; the two of us had never seen anything like it. We decided to let the hole settle for a little and then try to drift the same line and land this guy. A couple minutes later, Chris presented the bug beautifully and the same fish flew out of the water in the same fashion, only this time Chris set the hook perfectly. I grabbed the net and Chris led the fish right into it; we landed it and it was a nice big hammer hog that had clearly been beat up and hanging in the creek for some time.

 With the last day of fall fishing behind us and the snow beginning to fall, we stepped off the river and laughed at how humbled we were; me especially. It was a great day that produced 2 super nice fish that we hope to catch again. This was the first time I had fished this stretch of water and it will certainly not be the last. I'll be back up there soon (hopefully in better mental and physical condition) and will land a couple juicy Rainbows.

Stay tuned and thanks for reading. 

Jon <*)))><