Fishing is Good-Private Property Sucks!!!

I have been out twice on the Middle Provo and once on the Lower Weber in the past week and the access couldn't be more different.

The fishing is great but there are big changes to one of our favorite spots near Morgan. It's been a while since I have fished this section and I was surprised when there was an official sign in box and an extensive map highlighted with what is fishable and what is now off limits. You also had to take a carbon copy receipt to show the land owner, if stopped, that you had signed in appropriately. We used to have absolute hay days on this stretch and as I worked my way up stream I was met with several signs on both sides of the river.

The river was a dismal trickle and the fish were few and far between which brings me to another important point. The Lower is blown out almost all year and then it slows to almost no flow at all for a few winter months. I have never seen it this low though... The land owners yield to much power, exercising their "water rights". Most of this section is diverted into irrigation canals (year round) and the main stem is left in limbo. Evidence of a blown out river were everywhere with logs, grass chunks, a deep channel with no features and blown out "J-hooks". You have got to wonder... if this stretch was managed like the Middle Provo what would it be like? A lot better in my opinion. But at the same time a lot more crowded. Catch 22?

I found myself looking over my shoulder and walking carefully trying to avoid any confrontation (I have been confronted by both land owners and DWR in this valley before). When I finally reached my favorite hole it was "end of the line" so to speak. Three signs clearly posted told me I was leaving "walk in access" and expressed written permission was required to trespass. I sat and starred at my favorite hole (affectionately named Proto Call) where I remembered all of the great fish my buddies and I have caught over the years. The name Proto Call stems from a system we invited in order to keep the fish flowing. The Proto Call went like this- hook a fish and pull him down stream to a big pool so the next guy could cast and hook a fish... we would do this for sometimes 30 fish before the hole cooled off. We would then eat a sandwich and do it all over again. Beautiful days indeed.

I reluctantly turned and walked back to the car as to not rock the boat. Maybe once the land owners realize we are not there to litter and keep fish they will lighten up.

I also know the DWR put a lot of work in on this stretch of river. countless boulders and "J-hooks" were put in to improve trout habitat but once "the law" changed or the owner had a change of heart he closed his land even though tax payer dollars went to improving his land for the enjoyment of the occasional fishermen. Sad.

Bottom line- Respect private property (for now) and fight the good fight with conservation, showing respectful behavior towards land owners and  eventually access will be granted out of good will or the law. hopefully the latter....

On my way out I did run into a land owner (the nice one) removing some downed trees. I yelled across the river "how's it going?" he replied "great" I yelled back "thanks for letting me in here to fish!" he replied "no problem!".

Randy lands a fish of a life time...

My Father in Law Randy Morgan caught this beauty on the Green River with his buddies.

22 inches and 6 pounds.

What a fish!

The Green River

 Dalton and I took off Friday after work and headed for the Green River in Wyoming. This was our maiden journey to the much talked about and widely known trophy trout river and we were stoked to give it a try.

We pulled into the deserted camp ground right at dusk and and as we pulled in we noticed two huge owls sitting on a branch over looking the river. As we slowed down for a picture they flew across the river and sat on a bluff over looking the river. It was interesting because there were no trees on the other side so they were perched right on the ground and they sat there and hooted at us as we set up camp. 

Then.... I was out collecting wood and I heard some yelling and saw Dalton's spot light in the tree right above our camp. I ran back and he was a little shaken up and he had his new puppy Millie put away in her kennel in the truck. Dalt explained that the owl flew back across to our side of the river and was in the tree above camp looking to swoop down and take the puppy.... He had to yell and throw sticks to get the owl to take off....After that we both knew we were in a truly wild section of the U.S..

 We quickly built a big fire and threw some steaks on the grill.

 With a side of potatoes. 

 We found an old hollowed out piece of cottonwood and it was spitting huge flames out of both ends.

 A shot of Millie sitting by the fire after things calmed down.

That night we played a few tunes on the banjo and hit the hay early mostly because we were running low on wood and it was so cold out. Way below freezing. We didn't sleep that great because of the cold and the wildlife surrounding our trailer. In the middle of the night we heard an animal cry out (maybe a rabbit) right next to our trailer and that was followed by several hoots in a row. The owls had made a decent size kill and all of the dogs went nuts!!!!

Once morning came around we picked up camp and took off on some dirt roads we had heard about. We ended up on a massive bluff over looking the river. We got out of the truck and walked to the edge to take a look. The river was big. intimidating. Crystal clear and wild. Just then as we were contemplating our chances three golden eagles came drifting up the bluff using the wind gusts to climb in altitude.  Then two bald eagles appeared and did the same thing. Down on the river we could see the Osprey's working the river for fish. We did not see a single human being anywhere...

What a sight it was.

Now we set out to fish....

 I got lucky and caught a fish on my first cast. Then it got quiet for a while. We waded out to an island and worked up and down a big bend. Kokanee salmon were all over the place spawning (some dead and some alive). The action would get hot and then cold and we fished for about 5 hours.

 Out of the 20 fish we caught, we caught 1 Brown,  1 Cut Throat, 3 White Fish, and 15 Rainbows. The river seemed to be very healthy and we didn't even scratch the surface. I can't wait to give this river the attention it deserves...

A nice rianbow catching his breath after release.

 Most of the fish we caught were fairly small but I finally hooked a huge Rainbow in a fast shallow run. 

 Nice and fat.

 Another shot

 We took a measurement and he was 20" on the dot.

Last shot.

This fish really wore me out and was a challenge to get in.

Later that night at home I was in bed at about 8:30.... The sleepless, cold night and the elements on the river really put me down for the count. I have a new zest for fly fishing and I haven't stopped thinking about the possibilities this river holds.

Thanks,

Chris Giles

21" Brown in the Uintas

 Got out on Sunday and went for a solo mission to one of my favorite spots. The hopper/dropper was on! I caught 8 Browns and 2 Cut Throats and about 6 of those were on the hopper. 

 First Brown was on the dropper...

The second fish was also on the dropper and he also measured in at 21". I threw my hopper along a deep, fast under cut bank and he hit my hopper. I saw how big he was and I tried another cast. This time he took the dropper and he took me for a ride. He jumped and rolled several times and I had to follow him down stream. When I finally got him in the net I could feel my leg was shaking a bit and I was breathing heavy. What a rush when you fight a big fish.

Being on my own I tried to snap some photos without me in them and I hope they do it justice. 

Before I released him I held him along side my rod and took a measurement. I made a little nic on my rod and when I got home I measured my rod and the fish was 21" exactly.

Here are a few shots of the fish.

 Fresh in the net

 Nice color and his under belly was pretty beat up. That's what happens when you are a big fish in a small stream...

 On the bank for a photo.

 A little perspective with my hand in the for ground...

 Pretty rugged looking Male.

 Nice kype jaw going

 More of me trying to do the fish justice.

 The release

 Last one

A look up stream. I hooked him up above that pine tree on the bend and this is where I netted him.

Great day.

Thanks,

Chris Giles

Private Lake Near Giles Cabin

 My Parents have some good friends that own some land and lakes near the Giles cabin. My Parents called and said they were going to the lake and told me I should try to come up. My Dad said it with a little optimism in voice... Like he was really saying "You shouldn't miss an oppurtunity like this...."

He was right. What a beautiful piece of property and the Owners have done a really nice job with their lake. It has a great inlet that pushes water toward the dam. They recently re-engineered the entire lake and and it really paid off. They dug it out so there are areas that are 20 feet deep and the inlet has gravel for the fish to spawn in.

They have stocked Rainbows but there is also a self sustaining population of Brook Trout. They didn't come easy to the fly though. I had to really work at it and I ended up catching 3 big healthy Rainbows and a small Brooky.

Enjoy a few shots.

 You can tell they are healthy fish..

 Another Rainbow

Little Brooky but I saw a few big ones cruising the banks.

After fishing we enjoyed hearing stories about the property.

I hope I get to go back soon....

Thanks,

Chris Giles

All Timer

 

 Me with a nice little Cutty

With so much periphery to catching fish, could the fishing actually become secondary?  Being out in nature, walking a river, studying insects, hatches, other wildlife, and being with friends are only a small part of what makes fishing fishing.  But a trip to a beautiful remote stream in the Wyoming wilderness has brought me back to the root of fishing: throwing a line in the rare hope that maybe, just maybe, a monster trout will be enticed by your imitation of nature and take you for a ride.

The day started off early, dawn patrol early, and we set out with high hopes.  It was Chris' birthday and we hoped that mother nature would reciprocate some birthday karma our way.  A lot of driving, a quick stop for our licenses, and more driving finally found us at our destination.

We were excited because we knew this would be a day to float dry flies on the surface and the crystal clear water would allow us to watch fish emerge from their hiding places and take our bugs.  The fishing started off slow but sped up as the day wore on.  We began to lure out some beautiful cutthroats, which were healthy and fought well to avoid our nets.

 Chris gets on the board

 Pretty sweet conditions

 Chris with a big Cutty

 Another Beauty

 Healthy for sure

We continued to cover ground.  In one particular stretch Chris and I both had a new experience: a whitefish coming up for our hoppers!  The one Chris caught looked like a bottlenose dolphin.  Man it was ugly.

Chris definitely showed his skill in hunting down the fish.  He placed cast after cast in the right spot, and wasn't missing the set on anything.   I felt like somewhat of a hack because I missed a number of fish, particularly in the hole we stopped at for lunch.  I just couldn't hook a fish, until I finally felt the tug only to have the trout snap my line and leave me frustrated again.  But we pushed on.

 Brown in the net

 On the big hopper

 Another close up

 The release

 The recovery

 The lunch hole

 Nice Cutty

 First Whitty on a hopper

 In the net

We came around a bend an hour or so after lunch, and I looked at a strange little hole with some fast water and thought there had to be fish in there.  I caught a small cutty, and Chris was surprised to see me return to the spot and cast again.  He moved on to the next spot, but luckily was within earshot when the unexpected, yet hoped for occurred. 

I saw a big hammerhog, as we call it, come up and subtly drag down my grasshopper from the surface.  As I saw his body curve on the return dive I knew it was massive.  I yelled to Chris, and no doubt he knew from the inflection in my voice and my deer-in-the-headlights look that I had a monster on the line.  The fish dove back into it's hole, making my line look like a snag on the bottom.  But I knew I had hooked him well and could still feel movement on the line.

Slowly the monster worked into the faster current behind his hiding place, and the rodeo began.  I saw the dark outline of the fish and it looked like a shark.  Chris saw the size of it's mouth and dropped his own jaw.  Our coordinated netting effort began.  For the next ten minutes, we worked our way down river, trying to tire out the slab of muscle toying with us.

I did not want to put this guy on the reel, but rather fought him by hand.  I have lost fish before on the reel and regretted doing so.  With my 5 weight bent and my arm sore and tired, we slowly worked him into the shore, and weren't surprised by a number of bolts he made as he saw us with nets ready.  The tension in the air was ten-fold of the tension on the line.  We both knew this was the biggest fish we had hooked and it letting go would have been the ultimate heartbreaker.  But I finally got him close enough to Chris and with stealth and precision he netted the beast.

That is where things stood still for a minute.  I looked into the net and the image didn't compute in my mind: the fish was just way too big.  Chris has a large net, but the thing was still too big for it.  Seeing the jawbone, the kipe, and the eye finally registered and the primal screaming of jubilation ensued from both Chris and I.  The tail was giant, and the frontal fins looked like golden lily pads.  The mouth was gruesome and full of teeth, just perfect for eating other fish and I am sure a mouse or two.

I didn't even know how to take the thing out and hold it for a picture.  Both Chris and I have big mitts (often referred to as banana hands) which sometimes makes our big fish look much smaller in photos.  I didn't care this time.  I held him, took out the tape measure, and tip to tail measured 23"!  Surely the biggest fish I had ever caught, and perhaps the largest I could ever hope to net on a dry fly.  We snapped a few photos, and with a slap of a tail the big boy was released back into the river.

High fives and even a hug ensued (yes, how bromantic).  I was in complete shock for the rest of the day.  I have never caught a fish that actually made my body feel numb, but this one did.  The exhilaration, the adrenaline, all of the thoughts and realizations of that beautiful moment were hard to fully take hold of.

 The fish fresh out of the net

 All Smiles

 Money shot!!!

A few things I learned and am very grateful for that day:
* a good fishing partner not only helping to net, but also taking and sharing the joy of the moment.
* said fishing partner, whose birthday was that day, moving on from the hole (I would have felt terrible catching that one if I were in front of him that day).
* having lost a fish earlier in the day, which made me extra focused on making everything on my rig was correct.
* a good rod that punched above it's weight.  My Sage RPL+ held strong though only a 5 wt.
* the perfect bug that matched the hoppers on the bank so well.  Imitation is the highest form of flattery!

The beauty of it all is that catching a fish that big is hoped for, but not expected.  Every cast made carries with it that hope, and I am jubilant that mother nature exceeded any hope or expectation I could have concocted myself.  Surely a day to remember, a fish to set the bar, and a perspective forever changed in regard to the wonder that is fly fishing.

 Looking back down the valley

Looking up the valley

Thanks,

Jon Dalton

Wyoming Beauty....

This was my 4th trip back to this remote stream in South West Wyoming and I truly love this river. The water is crystal clear and almost resembles aqua blue tropical ocean water. There are big fish here. These big fish will take big hoppers. The hole Jon is standing in above is a prime example of where a big fish will hit a big hopper.

Ten minutes into our fishing Jon floated a hopper behind a boulder in deep water. We both watched as a massive 21-23 inch cut throat followed his fly down stream (time stood still...) and proceeded to smash his bug. The fish seemed stunned and didn't put up much of a fight (at first). When it saw me trying to scoop him into my net it made a mad dash and he was gone. Jon screamed. I felt his pain but I assured him the day was young and we would have other opportunities. What a strike that was though. We caught 40 fish with a combo of hopper droppers and one nymph rig. The nymph rig brought lots of white fish but also the occasional trout. We would canvas a run with hoppers and then finish it off with some drifts with the nymph rig. It seemed to work well. 

Enjoy a few shots of this Wyoming beauty....

 Partly cloudy, lush mountains and aqua blue water.

 Looking down stream.

 First Brown of the day.

 "I think I will try a different hopper heh?"

 Can't get enough of this river....

 Biggest brown of the day.

 A close up.

 Wild cut throat on a hopper.

 Nice color on this cut.

 Another beauty.

 Close up.

 Jon nailed three cutty's along this bank on a hopper.

 Healthy fish for sure.

One more...

Ashley packed a great lunch and we had a great day. It is safe to say that we will be thinking about the one (several) that got away though.

Get out for some hoppers. They are finally here!

Chris Giles