Wyoming 2014 Day Four

 

Day four started off much like the previous day had; rolling out of bed feeling well rested Greg and I headed down to grab breakfast early. The difference for me today was that I had to consciously think about chewing my food and slowing myself down. The excitement was near boiling over for me as today we were headed to my favorite water.  I managed to put down enough food to fuel me through lunch and then headed back up to the room to get my gear together.  Carefully I sorted through my pack, with shaking hands, to make sure that I did not leave any needed piece of gear behind.  Of course I loaded up the humidor with a fresh supply of cigars as well...Leaf, LFD and Kristoffs would do nicely for the day on the water.  After what seemed like hours, but was in reality about thirty minutes, everyone met up at the cars and hit the road.

 

Today's river meanders it's way through some amazing geography and has formed some of the best trout holding water I have ever seen.  One pool with undercut banks flows in to the next through gentle riffles as it snakes it's way back and forth through a canyon rivalling Sedona's color with it's red rock outcroppings.  The fish in this water have adapted to the bright sun and red rock bottom in such a way that I have not seen any other place.  In this place their color truly reflects the conditions found in this valley.  Their appearance is spectacular having taken on the coloration of a bright yellowy slab with intesely dark spotting, and with their pectoral fins and belly taking on a orangish-reddish glow.

 

 

The very first pool we dropped in to had what looked like a pair of really nice fish rising in the tailout.  I had a small hopper tied on from the previous afternoon so I carefully waded in to position.  They both rose again so I waited  about the same amount of time from the previous rise then laid out a perfect cast to the bank.  The hopper landed with a satisfying *plop* then slid down in the current mere inches from the grassy edge and right over the fish...with no reaction.  Crap.  We backed off and took a look at the water to see what we could find.  There were a few female caddis flitting about dropping to lay eggs so we decided to go small and tie on a size 16 caddis.  It only took one more cast to confirm that was the ticket to start the day.

 

Another reason I was excited for the day is that we got to hang out with our good friend Clark.  Clark is a top notch guide and quick to laugh so we always have a great time.  When we get out with him we generally play baseball on the river...one fish then rotate out between all three of us.  While it does mean less time fishing I can not imagine a more fun way to spend a day than the shared excitement of catching fish and giving each other shit all day!  Frankly I think it also makes me a better angler to be able to fish some and then be forced to observe.  It is surprising how much happening on the river you may miss when you are zoned in on casting, mending and watching the drift.  This also allows me to see how the other guys approach the water and fish through it.

 

Where the browns have adapted their coloration to be more vivd and match the surroundings the rainbows actually went the other way and are a bit more pale.  In reality they are nearly like mirrors in the water and you rarely spot anything other than their shadows to give them away.

 

They just silently slide in and melt right back in to the bottom as you release them.

 

Clark was really digging the Orvis Superfine Fiberglass 4wt that I brought along.  As he fished it throughout the day he agreed with me that it was perfect for this style of fishing.

 

Did I mention that Clark really REALLY loves his fish...never a dull moment!  I won't give a play by play for the next few fish pictures as I think they speak for themselves.  It was seemingly an unending parade of gorgeous fish throughout the day.  I was super excited to be back here and it did not disappoint...this place is still king of the west for me.  350 days until I am back...give or take.

 

 

The day ended a little short of what we normally fish but everybody was all smiles.  We had to get om the road a little early to get back to town and then out for our traditional prime rib dinner at the ranch.  On the way back to the truck I caught the father and son team, Dan and Aaron, trekking back across the field.

 

Out at the ranch the dinner was amazing as always.  Shortly after arriving we sat down and out came the perfect cuts of prime rib with green beans and twice baked potatoes.  When we were on the river it was so good I had doubts about leaving but this feast made it worth it!  After dinner we headed back over to the the shop, that is also the bar, to unwind for the evening.  One neat thing about this place is the population of hummingbirds...they are everywhere.  To get a close look I posted up underneath the feeder on the porch and stayed as still as I could.  After about thirty seconds they were back buzzing close enough that I could feel their wings.  One actually landed on my finger to feed and then hovered inches from my face staring at me before flitting up in to the trees.  When you are close enough to a hummingbird to see their tongue you know you are close!

 

Inside at the bar people gathered around to have a few beverages and tell some stories from the day.  It's about as unique a gathering spot as you are likely to find anywhere and something I always look forward to.  This shot is from actually from two years ago but you'd never know it unless you spotted Teddy behind the bar, since he is guiding the Ponoi right now, or one of the new pitures not yet above the bar.

 

 

After a few hours of having more fun than anyone should be allowed to have the day was catching up with us.  We had one more day to fish and needed to head back and get some rest so we said our good byes to those that would not be out the next day and headed back to town.  Thanks to a pair of flats it was not a quick trip home...  Cole and Justin bounced out with headlamps to help us out and it wasn't too long before we were back at the hotel and crashing hard, just under five hours before the morning alarm...

 

-mike schmidt

www.anglerschoiceflies.com

Wyoming 2014 Day Three

 

When you are travelling there are all sorts of tricks to settle your body in to whatever time zone you will be enjoying.  Sometimes they work well and you don't skip a beat, but other times your body doesn't fall for the ruse.  The amount of food eaten the night before and the high level of anticipation had everyone rolling early on Day Three! 

 

 

One nice thing about hopper fishing is that it is not really a crack of dawn type of thing. It takes a little time for the water to warm up a degree or two with the sun and the bugs to wake up and get to doing buggy things. Knowing that we usually get up and have some coffe a nice breakfeast about 7 then head back to the rooms to shower up and grab gear for the day before meeting around 8:30 to hit the road. Greg and I rolled down about 6:45 to find that everyone was already chowing. This year we had the father and son team of Dan and Aaron finally back for a second year along with Chad and his business partner Rob who is just dipping his toe into our proverbial rabbit hole of a sport. I could not wait to see the smiles and excitement on the faces of the return crew and the absolute look of awe with the new guys.  The forecast was for rain showers throughout the day but you sure couldn't tell that on the drive in!

 

Greg and I got to fish with Anthony for the first time and on Greg's favorite water to boot.  Anthony is a great guy that we have joked around with the last few years out there but not had a chance to hit the water with yet.  I always give Greg first crack on this river as this is his ShangriLa and right out of the gate Anthony was on his game and was coaching up Senyo.  Greg let it go for a few casts before the shit talking started.  We were going to make it one of the easiest days for him as a guide, but we were going to talk shit and laugh hard all day.  Despite Anthony barking out when to set just to rile Greg he kept his composure and hit the first fish of the day a few minuted in.  This was going to be fun.

 

I quickly got on the board as well with a great surface eat.  This fish wanted the fly so bad that it slow rose to inspect it and took too long to eat so the fly started to drag out.  That made no difference as he was on the fly like a cruise missle...he chased it down a few feet out of his holding water and sharked it!

 

The water we hit this day is a mixture of narrow willow lined chutes and deep meandering bend pools.  The combination really forces you to keep track of where your line is at all times.  If you get too excited and lose track or are off target then you are definitely in for a date with a tree.

 

If you can keep the line in the water though and get a good drift then there are jewels in these depths!

 

 

This is a pretty typical chute.  Great undercut banks with overhanging grasses and a well defined current seam.  Trout heaven.

 

In all the days I have spent out there I had somehow avoided all bad weather, until this rolled in.  It went from sunny to nasty rolling thunder just over the range and out of sight to dark and windy in about five minutes.  The sunlight coming through the clouds and bouncing off the canyon walls a really sinister dark purplish look and we knew that we were not avoiding this one.  As Anthony was hoofin back to grab out lunches the storm hit and Greg and I found ourselves in hurricane style sideways rain.  It was pretty warm so we did not have rain gear on us and chose to back in to the willows get a little out of it.  And then it was gone.  As fast as the storm popped up it was out of there in about ten minutes.  Lucked out again!

 

 

There was just enough rain to raise the humidity to normal midwestern level soupiness and wake up every mosquito in the area.  Time to cover up or become a meal.

 

Some places you can get away from the swarms of little blood sucking bastards but not here.  There is just not enough space to separate you from them so you ignore it because it is some of the best trout fishing around and they generally do not stick around too long.   Just to be safe though I lit up a particularly girthy and dark cigar to give them more incentive to look elsewhere, and it worked...mostly.

 

The color of the fish here never ceases to amaze me.

 

This is the reason I will continue to go back every year that I possibly can.  This fish needs no photoshopping of any kind to glow and is as thick as my wrist.  I will never get enough of it.

 

Greg has a spot that he has been waiting to hit literally since last year.  Two years ago he hit the biggest fish of the day in a nondescript spot that has mere inches of depth change as a current break with a small stump to guard it.  Last year, on the same fly, he had what we decided to call the same fish in the same spot rise and miss the fly...and it was all of a solid twenty.  As the day wore on I caught him looking upstream and knew this was where he wanted to be.  Just downstream of 'the spot' he re rigged his leader and put the fly on then worked in to casting range.

 

It wasn't Neo that he hooked in to but a great fish none the less.  Greg was admittedly down on it a bit at the time, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't as well, as when the line went taught for that split second we yelled and thought it was stilll there.  Looking back on it later that night we both were impressed with this fish, both in color and fight that it displayed.  Now this is the one we will look to find next year, a little wiser and a few inches bigger!

 

This foam tasted like hopper.

 

The rainbow above and brown below show the amazing spot patterns that this river has.  High frequency of spots and dark as night, providing great camoflage.

 

 

Really just about perfect camoflage actually.  They seem to just melt away at your feet in to nothing and do it right in front of your eyes.  If you blink they are gone...even though they are still right there in inches of water.  Really an amazing adaptation for survival in a harsh and unforgiving environment.

 

It really doesn't get much better than this.

 

At the end of the day we all met back up at the cars to shed our gear and load up.  Everyone had enjoyed a fantastic day on the water and there were smiles all around.  Rob, our least experienced guy, had caught his fill and had a look of near shock on his face.  On the drive back towards town the silence was frequently broken by headshakes and laughs of disbelief at what we had experienced.  It was beyond fulfilling to be in this environment and share it with people that so obviously were enjoying every second and soaking it all in.  We stopped up on the mesa in one of our favorite spots to show them the scope of where we were.  Parking the car on the side of the road you can see the valley is there, but not until you walk about 100 yards out and up a gentle slope do you come to the edge and realize just how vast this single valley is.  Awe inspiring.   

 

We made it back in to town in time to stop off for a quick pizza dinner and by the time it was on the table you could see the jet lag and physical nature of the day had caught up with everyone.  There were a few stories told of fish from each team of anglers but once the food was gone so were we.  Back to the hotel to recharge, organize gear and get to sleep.  Tomorrow we do it all again.

 

-mike schmidt

www.anglerschoiceflies.com

Wyoming 2014 Day Two

 

On morning of the second day Greg and I were both wide awake and geared up to hit the road before our alarms went off. It was early but we were already as jittery as a couple kids that just left an all you can eat sugar buffet. Today we were headed out to some water that we had known about for a couple years but had just not found the opportunity to fish yet. I like to think that I am in decent shape but you can’t prep for altitude and it had my head spinning on day one. As we would be back at altitude and be hiking farther today I was hoping that my body had adjusted a bit overnight. I will deal with near migraine level headaches if needed to fish these waters but prefer it be pain free if possible!

 

For anyone, and especially a Midwestern flatlander, a drive through the Wyoming foothills and then up in to the mountains is simply breathtaking. This drive was certainly no slouch and spectacular as expected. The anticipation rises around each blind corner as the views seemingly get better and better. Taking an hour to go a couple miles is way better when creeping along a mountain two track than when stuck on a city outer belt. With the windows down we crept along in silence soaking in the sounds and smells of the canyon. We careful picked our way around sharp rocks and deadfalls, until we rounded the last bend and parked to gear up. From here we walk. Up.

 

After getting through a gate and scrambling over a fence ladder we walked…and walked…up..always up. After about 45 minutes on the trail had finally made it as far as we were going to this time and the view was surreal.

 

In the dry mountain air you can see seemingly forever, or at least until a mountain gets in the way. From the high point of the trail we slowly and carefully picked our way down towards the water to start the fishing at a promising looking pool. As we stood on an outcropping above to look down in to the waters we could see plenty of fish sliding around in the depths of the crystal blue water, including one that had us shaking a bit before we even strung up.

 

The water was classic mountain freestone…fast and clear. It was pocket water heaven. Even the smallest pocket was enough current break in this brutal water for trout to take refuge. Long drifts were possible (with diligent mending) in the slow pools but the majority of the fishing was done with quick and short drifts to backpack sized targets. Lots of roll casting, being sure to cover all water before moving, was the name of the game as they could be anywhere and spooking one at your feet would temporarily shut down the fishing for as far as that fish would run…luckily not usually more than to the next micro pocket though! 

 

Getting a good drift was tricky due to the speed of the water quickly taking any extra line so high sticking and body positioning were at a premium. We generally stayed on the same side of the river for safety sake but did move in the water between spots. Crossing in many areas would have been treacherous due to flow and slick rounded rocks on the river bottom, and we did not want to get stuck on the side without the trail out! The water was gin clear and ice cold…almost literally. Let’s just say it was *ahem* paralyzingly uncomfortable if the water hit a certain level.

 

Much of the day was spent fishing Chubbies or something similarly bouyant to stretch a possible drift just a little longer.  Surprisingly a good portion of the fish did not come on the first cast in to a spot but required multiple drifts through before they would come out for a look.  Many times we were screaming in our heads for the fish to take before the fly was sucked out of the strike window...sometimes that worked and other times the fly went shooting downstream and the fish sank back to it's hidey hole. 

 

The lack of fish pictures today was not from a lack of fish being caught, in fact I landed browns, rainbows, cuttbows, and a brookie!  Frankly though I was in total awe of the surroundings.  More than once I caught myself staring off in a daze, while other times I just did not feel it was a good idea to pull the camera out of the protective SmithFly Roll Top to risk a shot.  Sometimes though the scenery alone was worth the risk. 

 

Something's got to be in there...right....?

 

Greg and I fish very well together.  Rather than split up we always stick together to share the laughs provided by the fish or the constant jawing.  Since that is how we normally fish these canyon situations are perfect for us as really only one person can fish forward at a time or you spook out the pools.  As the day progressed we fished our way back towards the car so that we kept getting closer rather than forcing a longer walk out as we were on a bit of a timetable.  It was not the normal upstream approach but the water was moving fast enough that the broken surface hid our movements from the fish.  With the rest of the weeks clients coming in that night we had to make sure to be on the road to meet them for dinner.

 

As we got to the end of the day we found a spot that was begging to be hit.  There was a long stretch of bank to bank heavy flow through broken rocks  for 50 yards ending about ten yards behind Greg in this shot.  When I say ending there I mean it as that wood in the picture is hanging over a 20 foot waterfall!  On the far bank there was a car sized rock close to the bank that blocked the flow perfectly for a gentle bucket tight up to a rock ledge overhang.  It was one of those spots that there was no question held something.  It was a nasty presentation requiring a 45 foot roll cast with an aerial mend to pile in some slack.  Greg's first attempt was a bit short and fired out over the falls before he could collect his line.  The next few were right on target though; placed right at the top of the slick with nearly the entire leader piled allowing for maybe a 2-3 second drift before dragging out.  After a couple casts with six eye intently staring at the fly we were rewarded with the sight of a solid fish rising from the depths.  Time slowed down and I swear the fish was in quicksand as it rose and closed it's mouth...where the fly had been only moments before being dragged out.  Crap.  After some collective groans and a minute to rest it Greg fired in another home run shot.  Again the fish rose under the fly but this time inhaled it!  Greg set and then somehow turned it's head away from the falls to keep it up top and fought it over to our side of the river.  Awesome fish from an awesome spot.

 

We worked out way downstream and cherry picked a few more likely spots but were up against the clock by then.  As bad as we wanted to keep going we had to hit the road and be presentable for our clients that were in the air at that point.  After hitting one last spot just up from the car we piled in and hit the road.  Back in town we got checked in to the hotel then headed down to meet the guys for the traditional first night feast at the Winchester Steakhouse.  Everyone was all smiles to be there and excited despite being tired from the road.  Much entertainment came from one of the guys confusion about what oysters were ordered and ate...let's just say we had a ball of a time with that one the whole rest of the trip. 

 

As dinner was served the combination of food coma and travel weariness set in and the conversation slowed a bit.  We finished up and headed back to the hotel to try and get some sleep.  The morning would come quickly...

 

-mike schmidt

www.anglerschoiceflies.com

Wyoming 2014 Day One

The human mind is an amazing thing.  With it we have accomplished spectacular feats; extremely complex problem solving, pushed bodies to then past their perceived limits and time travel.  Yes…time travel.  With my mind I am able, albeit unwillingly, to turn the minutes leading to an anticipated trip into days and then once there seemingly turn days into minutes.
 

My most recent time travelling experience revolved around my yearly return to the Bighorn region of Wyoming.  As with previous years the lead up to the trip seemed to take forever but the day finally came and I still somehow found myself scrambling to get my gear together.  With the car packed I pointed the car north and headed towards Greg Senyo’s place to crash for a few hours before heading to the airport in the morning.  The first leg of the journey was uneventful as we breezed through security and got to our gate with an hour to spare.  The stay in Denver was not nearly so smooth.  I will not bore you with details except to say that a brief scheduled layover turned in to a walking tour of all three terminals followed by over seven hours at the ass end of A terminal waiting.  We were literally minutes from renting a car to drive the remaining six hours to Sheridan when we finally boarded the last leg of the flight.  Greg and I got in to Wyoming late enough that we decided to nix the planned afternoon fishing session in favor of relaxing and catching up with some guide buddies who were nice enough to let us couch crash the first few nights.  Over a few beers we caught up on stories missed over the year before the conversation turned serious; where should we fish in the morning?  It did not take long for us to settle on a spot and as we started to think about crashing a crazy storm rolled over the mountains and started hammering us with sideways rain and bone shaking thunder.  Not usually something I worry too much about but we were staying on the second floor of a log building…the second oldest building in the state…

 

Thankfully we survived the night and the morning came quickly.  We rolled downstairs to the shop/bar/gathering place and put down some breakfast sammies and got our gear together.  Greg and I had no plans except to fish to our fill and get back sometime that night.  The night before we had talked it over and settled on where we were heading as it was filthy with cutties and was a place neither had yet been.  The drive was spectacular in a way that only switchback roads can be.  It took us nearly an hour more to get there than it should have as we kept pulling off at each possible place to soak in the view. 

 

 

Eventually we got to elevation and saw the river, or rather the half mile wide valley filled with willows that had the river running through it…somewhere in there.  It is a public place so we expected to see people but were surprised to see there were multiple cars at every turn off on a Thursday morning!  We drove the whole length of the valley and then came back to the spot we decided was the most promising and got geared up.  Walking in to the river there was spooky in the same way that a unfamiliar forest at night or walking through six foot tiger grass at Katmai…not specifically dangerous but definitely a spot that the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

It was a long bushwhack in that rewarded us instantly as a nice cuttie bolted from the first bank where we wet our boots.  Cutthroat have a reputation of being the dull edge of the knife but we found them to be relatively selective here.  That’s not to say that we didn’t catch them eventually on just about everything we tried, but small beetles and ants outfished everything else four or five to one.  This gorgeous little guy was the first fish of the trip.  Stalking up that first bank I switched off of the small foam hopper I came in with and switched over to a small caddis after watching some come off accompanied by splashy rises.  One close cast was all it took to seal the deal. 

 

This is the first fish of the trip on the Orvis Superfine fiberglass rod.  This 4wt stick was the perfect tool for the water we fished this trip!

 

I did start the day fishing my Carlin bamboo rod.  When the wind was down this was a fun rod to fish, and fighting a fish on a rod that bends all the way through the cork is always a blast.  This was the best fish on this rod for the trip and put it to the test.  I was able to turn him and get him upstream from his rootball home to start the fight and then enjoy the tug of war through a big hole.  The coloring on these cutts was awesome.

 

The previously mentioned bettle pattern that crushed it.  Greg was the one that cracked this code when he tied on this small sz16 Crow beetle.  I believe he hit six fish in the first eight casts out of a deep and shaded run.  It was filthy!

 

At about 7 or so the mosquitos woke up and made their presence known.  We decided that nine hours of stalking these gorgeous fish was enough for day one and headed back to the car.  Truth be told the jetlag caught up to me and I was ready a little earlier but the fishing was just too good to pass up.  Once we got back to the car there were a couple guys gearing up in the lot so we BS'd with them for a bit.  Greg showed his usual Midwestern hospitality and gave the guys a couple of the beetles that had worked so well for us before we pulled out and turned the car towards the couches.  I hope those guys had as great a time as we did.

 

Eventually we got back to the shop and kicked back for some people watching.  A few beers in a comfy chair just feet from a river is perhaps the best way to relax.  While we were there our good friend Cole came in and let us know that he had the next day off and was going to spend it chasing fish around with us.  After a short discussion we settled on another spot that neither Greg or I had been to. Honestly the 'conversation' was more of a single question. 

 

Greg:  "Hey man, how about RiverX tomorrow?"

Cole:  "Yeah, we can do that.".  (**editorial note: there ws a brief twinge in the corner of his eye as he wondered who got drunk and told us about it)

Greg and me at the same time:  "Sweet!"

 

After a full day on the river  I do not even remember hitting the pillow...I was out before impact.  Good thing to as we would need every bit of sleep for the hiking on Day Two...

 

One final piece of business to address here is river names, or rather the lack of them.  I will not be specifically naming any water that we fished over the course of the trip.  Some of the water we fished on the trip was private so knowing would do you no good and other places were public but not 'my spots' so not my place to pass them along even if I wanted to.  If you know the places from the pictures then you are a lucky person that knows the awe I had the whole time I was there. 

 

-mike schmidt

www.anglerschoiceflies.com