Archive for the ‘#minturnanglers’ Tag

Hell or High water….   Leave a comment

Hidy ho Good Neighbors!

High water and run-off close a few opportunities for fly fishing moving water, but opens up the chances of fly fishing still waters.  I grew up on mountain lakes and fly fishing still waters.  I absolutely love it and always look forward to fishing and guiding the glass.

Back in May I took a trip to Arizona to present to a few clubs (Arizona Fly casters and Desert Fly casters) the Systematic Approach to Fly Fishing.  Some of you may not know that I am originally from AZ and remember the fly fishing more than I remembered the heat.  One hundred eight degrees in Phoenix one day!  So, I was overjoyed to travel up to the White Mountains, where I cut my fly fishing teeth on lakes, for a bit of lake fly fishing.

We arrived at Becker Lake, near Springerville, AZ, at around noon. The boys (Gentry, Joe, and John), were gracious enough to outfit me with a pontoon, booties, and fins.  I was fixated on dry fly fishing first, running streamers secondly, and nymphing as a last option.  Not that I don’t make a living fishing under a bobber or I have anything against it, but I wanted dry fly or streamer action, because I don’t get to do too much of that. I can never get too much of that!

Well, there were very few fish eating on the surface.  I could see size 18 chironomid adults sporadically hatching, but couldn’t raise a fish.  After about an hour of that, I switched to a tandem streamer rig.  I threw a black slumpbuster on a jig hook in front of John Rohmer’s simi leech (black and olive).  No love on that rig either.  I could see the writing on the wall, nymphing time.

Now these guys are running 18’ leaders and break-away indicators, with trolling motors and fish finders.  Pretty serious individuals.  I thought I knew how to rig a break away indicator, and had picked up a few before leaving Colorado. I couldn’t find the dang things in my waist pack, and finally asked for help getting that thing rigged.  I put on as close to matching bugs with what I could glean from the few guys that were hooking up, but soon realized that my formula left much to luck.  Soon, I took off the indicator, loaded up weight and fished it “Czech-style” right on the bottom.  I did have a couple eats, which I completely missed, but I did move fish.

Mercifully, the wind got big, and I got to cruise to the dock.  Not that I didn’t have fun, but I always like to feel I’m in at least a smidge of control.  I met my nephew on the way to the evening’s festivities as I cruised back toward Pinetop, and watched him fish for Apache and brown trout on a small stream that I don’t know the name of.  He moved more than a few on dry dropper rigs. I felt a little better.

That evening, as I lay there listening to my brothers dog snoring, I realized I needed to fish to my strengths tomorrow on that lake.  The White Mountain Lakes Foundation was hosting an annual event that raises money for the organization, which in turn, helps the organization support and enhance the fishing in the White Mountains. I was honored to be a part of it.  I was up early the next morning, drinking a cup of coffee and puffing my pipe, in front of a 7-Eleven, rigging a double dry rig consisting of a Royal Wolff followed by and adult chironomid pattern matching the adults I saw earlier.  My plan was to go back to my roots and walk the edges early morning looking for and casting to rings and noses.

I had just thrown on my waders, when a gentleman named Mike came up to me and Gentry and said, “There are fish coming up on the far end”.  “Where abouts?”, I asked. He pointed to a spot that was maybe a five minute walk.  I was there in four.

I stood for a moment watching the action and planning on how to fish to these noses from near to far, trying not to spook them.  First cast….bam, fish on!  What? Tiger trout? “Oh this is even gonna be better than I thought”, I mumbled, as another fish ate my second cast.  Mike had put me on a pod of small tiger trout on the munch.  He eventually showed up, and I thanked him for the intel again.  We both moved a few more (I snapped of a big one) and then it was time to head back for more festivities.

High river water offers the opportunity to seek out still water.  If you don’t fish it often, there is an adjustment period.  Go back to your roots, do what you do well and have confidence in.  I do want another shot at deep still water nymphing techniques because the systematic approach works well there too.  I always say that folks should fish to their strengths while working on their weaknesses.  Someday I’ll get back there better armed with information and techniques and flatten out that weakness. It’s all part of the process of becoming a complete angler.  In the meantime, Fear No Water!

Duane

El Tigre on a dry

El Tigre on a dry

Meat eater in the lake

Meat eater in the lake

Gentry in mid-cast

Gentry in mid-cast

Sylvan Lake, Colorado

Sylvan Lake, Colorado

Head for the Hills!   2 comments

I feel sorry for them, I really do.  Just finished guiding the South Platte near Denver over the Memorial Day weekend.  It was cold and rainy, but that didn’t stop the multitudes of anglers and “recreationalists” from enjoying time on the water.  I don’t have any ill feelings to folks getting out and using Mama Nature, I just feel a bit sorry for the fish.

Right now, the South Platte near Deckers, Colorado is one of the few games in town.  Because of our epic snow pack, and a very wet spring on top of that, the rivers are pissed and dangerous.  More water than I’ve seen in a long time.  The South Platte is a tailwater tucked close to Denver.  Certainly, she is going to feel the brunt of traffic, because amazingly, she is still below normal flows.  Oh, the water will come, but for now, she’s “it”.

I watched the fishing success dwindle in the last 3 days leading up to Memorial Day.  Oh, we were still catching fish, but it became more and more technical.  Drifts had to be more precise, mends more complete, and sets were on anything that looked suspect.  You just had to work much harder than usual.  I got to thinking, “How many times has this fish been hooked this week?” “Today?”

Where the fish would usually hold in a particular seam in a particular run in days prior, they just weren’t there.  You may think, well they just went deeper in the column and you can’t see them.  Nope, not in this case.  The flow is only a little over 100cfs, meaning, you could see a quarter underwater in most of the runs we fished.

No, these fish headed for the hills.  By noon on Monday, we were catching fish on skinny rigs (check the archives for more info), along the edges.  One big brown comes to mind.  He ate my Brachy Pupa, on the far bank, in about a half foot of water, on the first drift.  We didn’t know he was there, but assumed the fish had moved because they weren’t in the usual haunts. I know this fish, where he usually holds, and how he likes to eat.  He broke the rules, and he lunged out of my net before photos.  Salty bastard.

Have a few other thoughts as well.  One thought  centered around how grateful I am that fly fishers are so diligent when it comes to releasing fish unharmed.  The fish in this area are for the most part, clean, fat, healthy, and pound for pound will fight with any in the state.  My other thought is how grateful I am to be able to work on a resource such as this so close to home.  Shouldn’t feel sorry for them I guess, they’re doing fine.  When the fishing gets technical, the technical go fishing………….

Fear No Water!

Duane

Don’t forget FATHERS DAY is coming up.  Pick up a copy of the Fly Fishers Playbook for your favorite father, or son, or brother, or son-in-law or…….!

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