Still Fighting For Utah Water Access

Here is a link to the current information on water right access in Utah. If you can help by donating, please do. Thank you to Bryan and Chris for all the time, money and energy they have sacrifised in this effort.

http://utahwaterguardians.org/

Coming Home Again

I used to consider the Ogden River in the canyon my home water. I could be there in 15 minutes from my house or place of employment. In the summer, I used to spend three evenings and most Saturdays there. I know every inch of that river from the parkway all the way to the dam. Those were carefree days and evenings for me. Some of the time I shared with another fly fisher or two, but alot of the time it was just me.

The river is home to 5,000 brown trout per mile. The Utah Division of Wildlife claim that is too many. The electro-shock surveys over the last few years prove that the trout are stunted. Trout that are 3 to 5 years old and should be 16 to 18 inches in length are typically smaller by a few inches. Mature fish in the 12 to 13 inch range are in there trying to spawn in the fall.

I haven't fly fished the Ogden like I used to. My search for native cutthroat trout has taken me to other waters. I decide today, that I would visit the waters in the canyon. I went, not so much for the fishing, as I did because I wanted to connect with an old friend. I needed to get famliar with her again. I needed her comfort. I needed to know that even though I left her for a season, that she was still the sweet piece of water I loved.

I drove up the canyon and looked for a section of water that had some sun hitting it. The canyon is narrow and when the sun is to the south, it recieves little warmth. Looking for places with sun has been one of the little secrets about the Ogden. At least for me in the late fall, the sunny stretches fish better. I know this goes against the wisdom of the fishing gods, and against the nocturnal nature of brown trout, but it is my experience.

I decided I wanted to fish the river like I did when I was 30 years younger. I was going to "rock hop" today. Rock hoppin' is a simple way to fish. I don't have to worry about waders. I put a small fly box in my hip pocket, a spool of tippet, a bottle of floatant and a pair of clippers in other pockets, and after rigging up the rod, I head for the river. Simple pleasure.

In the late fall, the Ogden River is low and clear. Its brown trout skittish. In the back of my head, I was prepared to be skunked. This is not normal mentality for me. I pride myself on being able to catch a handful of trout or more when I go out, but today, I knew the brown would be staging to spawn or in the act. I know there are guys who catch spawning fish and I have done it myself--today--I could care less if I caught a fish. I was out just to be out. Like I mentioned, I was meeting an old friend again.

I could see several fish from high up the bank. As I suspected, they were pairing up to spawn. Some were clearing gravel and some were already on redds. I walked down to the rivers edge and made some half serious attempts at drifting a mayfly over some of the fish. The fish like me, made a half serious look at the fly the first couple of drifts, but I could tell, the trout had other things on their minds. Not one fish actually rose to the fly. Most would move over to inspect and then move back to were they were holding in the current. With each unsuccessful cast, I became less interested in casting to them. I ended up slipping the hook in the keeper and just watching trout.

I hopped from rock to rock and made mental count of the fish I saw and their size. To be honest, many of the fish in this section, surprised me with their size. A 16 or 18 inch fish on the Ogden is a great fish and I am happy to say I saw 10 or 15 in that size range in a fairly short section of river. They looked to be good healthy fish, even though the DWR says they are stunted. Some did look to have large heads and slender bodies for their size, and that is one of the indicators of stunting. So I have to agree with the DWR.

I enjoyed the two hours I spent with my old friend today. I decided that I will get familiar with her again. She has brought me pleasure over the years and taught me many of the tricks I use on other waters. On summer evenings, I remember her trout as willing and easy. I remember fishing great hatches to numerous rising fish. I decided that I miss her. I might not be able to see her as often as I used to, but I made a mental committment that I will visit her a little more than I have. Don't I owe her that?

NEW BLOG

Instead of clogging this fly fishing blog up with non-fly fishing related outdoor adventures, I have started a new blog to write about "other" outdoor activities.
http://www.crossingopenground.blogspot.com/ will be a place for musings about hiking, mountain biking, running, and wandering and wondering about nature. It's in it's infancy; you are welcome to watch it grow.

A Nice Note about the Chain-stitched Mayflies

"I've finally had a chance to fish them now that fall is here. I used them on the south fork of the snake recently with good success. Couple notes: Being comparadun style, I had much better success in the run out of riffles where the water was calmer. They would sink in the rougher water of the riffles. In areas where they would float, however, fish took them willingly, sipping gently and not suspecting a thing. It was a lot of fun. The only thing I might do differently is the tails. I'd consider something stiffer, like microfibbetts. The tails on the fly (not sure what they were made of) tended to stick together when wet. All in all though, a great imitation and a lot of fun to fish. Thanks again." :)

-Mike Silver


Thanks for the report Mike. I sent patterns out to several individuals each year and rarely do I hear back. Nice to get a report. This pattern was created for smooth water. I was trying to get something that would imitate the silhouette of the naturals for picky trout. As for the tails, I have noticed the same thing. The tail fibers are made from the same material as the body. I have started to stiffen them up and make the split more distinct by running a little super glue up them. I use a small amount on the end of a bodkin so my fingers don't stick together.

Saying Goodbye!

I peered through the willows that lined the bank of a small, clear creek and watched as a 12-inch cutthroat trout moved from side to side, picking small dark mayfly nymphs from the current.

I was rigged with a brown stonefly imitation which had proven effective on this creek for years. I found a small opening that provided enough room to cast and crawled hand and knees up next to a sizable tree. I slowly stood up keeping my left shoulder snug against the tree; blending into the setting as best I could. I lengthened my line with false casts to allow the fly to float down into the trouts feeding lane.

The cutthroat continued to sip nymphs as my stonefly landed about ten feet above him. The fly drifted down toward the trout as I mended line to keep a natural float. The fly was right on target and came directly into the trout's view. My arm became tense in anticipation of the fish's strike. The cutthroat did not move as the fly passed his snout. I let the fly continue to drift past the fish and began a slow hand-twist-retrieve so I could cast again.

I didn't want to disturb the water by a quick pick-up and risk spooking the cutthroat, so I slowly worked the line in and brought the fly up into the shallows on the creek edge. Suddenly, I noticed a flash of color a few feet below my fly and watched wide-eyed as a different trout raced toward the fly. The fish slammed into the fly with its back exposed, out of the water, producing a wake that sent the cutthroat trout racing upstream for cover.

I set the hook and stared with amazement at the 18-inch brown trout thrashing up and then down stream. This was a powerful fish and was not interested in giving up. Again, the fish tugged line as it tried to head down the creek putting pressure on my shoulder.

I held the brown for a second to admire its length and girth. It was a beautiful trout. I sat it in the shallows and watched as it caught its breath. I was doing the same. It moved toward the middle of the creek and deeper water. I thought I saw it roll its eyes back and pause for a second--maybe not. I waved goodbye anyway.

Fly Fishing and Thoughts of Thoreau

"The lesson he (Thoreau) had taught himself, and to which he tried to teach others, was summed up in the one word "Simplify." That meant simplify your needs and your ambitions; learn to delight in the simple pleasures which the world of Nature affords. It means also, scorn public opinion, refuse to accept the common definitions of success, refuse to be moved by the judgement of others."
---Joseph Wood Krutch (part of the introduction to "Walden and Other Writings by Henry David Thoreau.")

When I started fly fishing as a young thirteen year old kid, I used a very simple way of angling. I was introduced to it by my father. He was a wet fly fisher who only used a couple of patterns and always fished them down and across. These patterns were hair flies (Fizzle and Rockworm) as tied by the late Franz B. Pott of Missoula, Montana. These flies were tied onto the end of a seven to nine foot tapered leader which was tied onto a floating fly line. The flies were cast down and across stream and them allowed to swing with the current. They were manipulated into the proper seams and runs and then slowly worked upstream with a hand-twist-retrieve. Trout would either hit the fly on the swing or grab it as it was worked upstream. It was an effective method and a very simple method. I used this method for thirteen years.

When I married and decided to take up fly tying as a hobby, I originally wanted to just tie the Pott flies, but as I subscribed to the popular fly fishing magazines and bought fly tying books, a whole new world of fly patterns and fly fishing techniques was opened to me. I tried all the techniques which were new to me, nymphing, streamers, emergers, and dry fly fishing. I spent time using all of these methods and would find myself switching from one method to another during my outings.

Several years ago, I decided to simplify my angling again. I grew fond of dry fly fishing and found that it was my preferred style. With experience I found that at almost every month of the year, I could catch fish on top if I understood the hatch and was on the water at the appropriate time of day.

I have not lived in the woods as Thoreau did, but as I look back on my life, I realize I have spent a great deal of time wandering in the woods. My fly rod has been, and is, a magic wand. I wave it and it carries me to beautiful places. Wave it again and the scenery changes. My favorite rod is a seven foot, six inch paint brush that helps me create the paintings of my mind. Sometimes, it is a pen that helps me write the beginning and ending of my life.

Life is full of rivers to cross. I have for a long time felt I crossed these rivers alone. I prided myself on doing this. I, as Thoreau, sought for solitude:

"I have never felt lonesome, or in the least oppressed by the sense of solitude, but once, and that was a few weeks after I came to the woods, when for an hour, I doubted if the near neighborhood of man was not essential to a serene and healthy life. To be alone was something unpleasant. But I was at the same time conscious of a slight insanity in my mood, and seemed to forsee my recovery. In the midst of a gentle rain while these thoughts prevailed, I was suddenly sensible of such sweet and beneficent society in Nature, in the very pattern of the drops, and in every sound and sight around my house, an infinite and unaccountable friendliness all at once like an atmosphere sustaining me, as made the fancied advantages of human neighborhood insignificant, and I have never thought of them since."

I wonder if Thoreau is right? He also said, "I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers."

For years, I believed and pointed out the above quotes as my justification for spending time on solo fly fishing trips. Like I said, I was proud of my ability to wander up streams and creeks alone, to cross rivers alone, and to spend time in the woods alone. I like Thoreau, felt I only needed "three chairs in my house; one for solitude, one for friendship, three for society."

I'm beginning of late to understand better things of solitude, but also of my need to have friends. But that is really another story. What I want to do is get back to my original thoughts on simplicity. I've decided that the pursuit of trout through fly fishing can be very simple, especially, if you are fishing waters that are not what I call technical waters. These are waters with shorter growing seasons, waters that are typically smaller, and where the type of water is more turbid, with lots of riffles, seams, pockets, and sometimes gradient.

In my neck of the woods, this is what I've discovered over the past 30 years (I know, that 30 years just keeps on finding its way into my writing).

December, January, February: Midges. Small nymphs and dries. Hatches occur the warmest part of the day.

March, April: Midges, Blue-winged Olives. BWO nymphs, emergers and dries. Usually between 10:00 AM and 2:00 PM.

May, June: Pale Morning Duns, Caddis and Stoneflies. Evening fishing starts to warm up. PMD hatches most afternoons in June.

July, August, September: Hoppers and beetles. Afternoon and evening caddis

October, November: Still some hopper action, Blue-winged Olives are back. Swinging and stripping streamers.

Yes, there is the specific hatch of this or that, which you may have to figure out, but the above is a simplistic approach to most of the Intermountain areas regular hatches.

I wonder if Thoreau ever considered taking up fly fishing? Probably too busy writing about solitude and civil disobedience.

Charles Swindoll quote:

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.”