Fall Bronze Backs

I wanted to fish both days this weekend, but it wasn’t meant to be. I caught a cold on Thursday that kept me on the couch yesterday which was a BEAUTIFUL fall day. I felt a bit better today so I wadered up and hit the stream. Before I left I had some choice to make. Do I head down stream and poke around the lower river for one of the first arrivals? Or, do I hit the upper river in the hope that the bass are still hitting?

A few steelhead have moved into the system and are hanging out in the lower river. Everyone is waiting for a big rain, which should present an opportunity for the first good push of fish. With the river flowing at 88 CFS, I opted for bass fishing. I figured I had a better shot at some bass that are beefing up for winter than a few lonely steelhead that are probably getting pounded on by everyone and their mother. A beautiful Sunday afternoon at the beginning of steelhead season is prime time for all the idiots to come out and flog the water for the few fish that have moved in. Low water, low numbers of steelhead, tons fishing pressure; it just wasn’t worth the drive. The chance of catching a steelhead today under these conditions was not nearly as good as the chance at catching some good bass. It just wasn’t worth the drive down river to rub elbows with all the idiots.

The water was a bit off color. There was about eighteen inches of visibility. The air temp was 57 degrees, and the water temp was about 60 degrees. The leaves have begun changing and bass are getting ready for winter. The fish are holding a bit deeper than in the summer and want a slower retrieve. I had to let the fly sink a bit and then strip it slowly, letting it pause for a long moment after each strip or two. There were a few leaves in the water, but not enough to be too annoying. I fished a black wooly bugger variation all day.

I caught several small bass to start the day off. I lost the first good fish that ate the fly after it leaped out of the water a time or two. Losing that fish was worth the acrobatic display and fight this fish gave. I caught a few other good fish, some rock bass, and a sunfish before I relocated down to another branch of the river where I had some good luck earlier this summer. Fishing on the other branch started off slow but quickly heated up. I caught several really nice bass, one was a real hog!

I had a great afternoon on the water. I love being on the water in early fall. The air is temperate, the trees are taking on fall colors, but things are still green and some of the wild flowers still remain on the banks. Its days like this that remind me how pretty North East Ohio can be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Early Fall Fishing

I fished this past Monday and today.  Fall has definitely arrived bringing cooler temperatures and leaves falling into the water.  Monday (9/17) was OK, the water was low and clear, but I caught a few small bass.  Today, after a few days of solid rain the flow was up and the water was high and muddy, the fishing was pretty lousy today.

I should have driven down river to see if I could get into some chrome, but I fished near home for late season bass.  I don't know that I could have caught anything in the mocha colored water.  I always prefer to catch fish, but today, I was just happy to be out fishing.  This is how it goes in the early fall when you're in law school. 

Small Stream Fishing

Rain late in the week has made the larger rivers unfishable over the weekend, the one time I have a chance to get out and wet a line.  Forced to seek smaller water to find fishable conditions, I’ve fished small streams for the last three weekends.  I’ve fished a couple of class A trout streams in PA, a tributary to the Chagrin, and the Clear Fork of the Mohican.  I went to PA and the Clear Fork in search of trout that turned out to be illusive.  Water temps in the PA streams were at 68 degrees, a bit too warm form trout to actively feed.  The water was low and clear on both PA streams and the clear fork.  The trout in were illusive in both places.  I still caught several creek chubs, sunfish, bass and I even caught a wild steelhead par.  Casting and getting a good drift was challenging.  The scenery was beautiful.  The solitude was relaxing.  Most of the fishing done was with dry flies.  I have to say, the thrill of a fish rising to a fly and eating from the surface never gets old. 

PA Streams

 

 

Chagrin Tributary

 

 

 

Clearfork

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 7: Last Hoora

I could feel the end coming.  That awareness of mere hours remaining before it all comes to an end in a cloud of jet wash.  I readied my gear and laid out my clothes the night before.  I woke before the alarm went off, grabbed my gear and hit the road.  I only had a few hours to drive to the stream, fish for as long as I could before I had to get back to the hotel for breakfast.  The schedule was tight because we still had to make the two and a half hour drive back to Jackson, return the rental car, and catch the shuttle to the airport in time to make our flight.  This was it.  The last couple of hours of fishing in Yellowstone.  I had to make it count.

There are no good trout streams near the Yellowstone Lake Hotel.  The guys at Blue Ribbon Flies suggested that I check out Middle Creek because it is the best trout stream near the Lake Hotel.  Middle Creek is a steep small stream, it drops one hundred feet per mile as it descends towards its mouth.  Much of the stream runs parallel with the East Entrance road as the stream flows towards the park boundry.  I read that the head waters are full of brook trout, but the lower section of the stream held cutthroats.  I had to drive all the way to the East Entrance to fish the section that contained cutthroat, that is, if Middle Creek held cutthroat inside the park.  The East entrance was as far as I could go with the limited schedule and only possessing a Yellowstone Fishing license.  I guessed and hoped there would be cutthroat there.  Why else would the guys at Blue Ribbon Flies direct me there?

When I hit the road it was dark as night.  After about a little while dawn had broken.  I was racing towards the East Entrance.  On a mission.  No time to stop and look around or take pictures.  The road follows the shore of Yellowstone Lake East before it heads through the Sylvan Pass, then down towards the East Entrance.  As soon as the East Entrance was in view I pulled over and parked the car at the first pull off I came to. 

The rod was already rigged.  I put on my pack and carefully removed the rod from the trunk.  A little extra caution was warranted after breaking a rod the first day in Yellowstone.  I scurried down the slope from the road to the creek and began working a fishy looking stretch of water.  The water was cold, my feet were numb.  The stream was small and tight, the current was swift.  It was difficult to get a good drift in the conflicting currents.  Middle Creek is a beautiful little mountain stream.

 

I had a fish make a quick slash at my fly shortly after I began fishing, unfortunately, I missed it.  Good.  That was no tiny brook trout.  There were some decent size fish in this water.  I didn't know if it was a cutty or brook trout, but I would have been happy landing that fish either way.  I hoped it was a cutthroat.  I really wanted to catch a few more cutthroats before I left for the airport, but I would take some decent brookies too.

I worked my way up into the next pool and missed another good fish along the right bank in a small eddy on the seem of the main current.  Damn.  I was a bit trigger happy because I was so eager to catch a few fish before making the trip back to Ohio.  After my day on the Yellowstone and Tower Creek, the concern of getting skunked the last time on the amazing waters of Yellowstone National Park was very real. This feeling had been nagging at me since I missed the first fish. I desperately wanted to score one more trout my last time on these legendary waters.  I persistently kept working every fishy spot.  I saw the fish rise... wait, wait, strike, the line tightened up, the rod bent and began dancing as the fish shook its head and pulled in an effort to free itself.  Fish on!  I quickly worked the fish into the net and got a picture.  It was a beautiful, wild, native, cutthroat trout.  I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment and relief.

 
Time was ticking.  My internal clock was ringing, I knew the alarm on my phone was going to go off at any moment.  I fished with purpose hoping I could bag one more cutthroat before I had to depart from this beautiful mountain stream.  I snagged my fly in a tree and had to break it off.  I re-rigged as quickly as I could with a flying ant.  After a few casts it was clear that the fly was too small to get any attention from these trout.  I cut the fly off to change it out.  As I was reaching into my pack to dig out my fly box the alarm went off.  It was just not meant to be. 

I reeled up the leader hiked up the bank and back to the car.  It was time to race back to the hotel.  I didn't have much time to pack up and get back.  I threw my gear in the car and I was off.  I made good time on the way back and had about ten minutes to spare as I approached Fishing Bridge.  We had not gone to see this famous landmark so I used the spare to time to stop and grab a few pics on the way.  I made it back five minutes early.  I cleaned up and we went to breakfast.

 

 

 

 

We ate quickly so we could go down to the lake for a few pictures before packing the car and departing Yellowstone.

 

 

 

We made good time despite some traffic as we drove through Grand Teton National Park.  We ditched the car and made it to the airport exactly when we had planned to arrive.  The airport was packed with travelers.  We hunted down some seats and joined the crowd.  We still had an hour before our plane was set to board.  We grabbed some lunch and watched as new arrivals were deplaning and passengers were gawking at the view of the Tetons that had captivated us seven days earlier.  Seeing this made me wish we were not waiting to board a plane back to Cleveland.  I love my home town.  I'm a die hard Clevelander, but I wish we had a few more days in beautiful trout heaven.

                  

Day 6: YNP fishing tour

After spending most of the previous day sight seeing rather than fishing, it was time to catch some fish.  The agenda for the day was to start on the Lamar River, then head to Slough Creek, from there it was off to the Yellowstone River and Tower Creek.  It was a lot of water to cover in one short day. 

We drove from Yellowstone Lake up along the Yellowstone River, through the Hayden Valley, over the rim of the Caldera, to the Lamar Valley located in the North East corner of the park.  On our way through Hayden Valley we saw a coyote cross the road, a buffalo heard, and a momma grizzly and her cubs (from a distance using a scope).

Morning mist on the Yellowstone River 

Looking out across the Hayden Valley

Photo credit: Cobalt on YNet Forums

View from the rim of the Caldera

The Lamar Valley has been described as the Serengeti of North America because of all the animals that call the valley home.  There was wildlife everywhere.  On the drive along the Lamar River there was a traffic jam caused by bison standing in the middle of the road.  As we passed by the giant animals they were close enough to the road to reach out and touch.  We were surrounded by bison almost everywhere we went.   I was sort of surprised how "cow like" the bison were.  They didn't seem to care about our presence, they just went about grazing or lounging in the meadows and ignored us. 

The plan was to fish the Lamar pick off a fish or two and then head to Slough Creek for the better part of the day.  My wife wanted to hike and see wildlife, I wanted to fish.  The Slough Creek Trail seemed like the perfect place to accomplish both of these goals.  Our first stop was a pull-off along the Northeast Entrance Road that was about one hundred yards from the banks of the Lamar River.  It was a quick jaunt down to the river.  My wife found a spot to observe the bison herd that was grazing on the far side of the river.  I worked a nice run with a chubby Chernobyl.  I fished through a good stretch of water without so much as a look from a fish.  I moved downstream to a nice drop off.  I provoked a few fish to rise, I missed the first and stuck the second and third.  The second fish was an average cutthroat, a good start for the day.  The third fish was a hog!  After a quick fight the line went limp, I pull it in to find nothing at the end of the tippet.  That hog robbed me of my fly.  I worked downstream a bit further and decided it was time to head to Slough Creek.  I could have fished the Lamar all day, but we had a lot water to cover and there was no way we'd get it all in if we didn't get on the move.  I did what I came to the Lamar to do, I provoked a few rises and landed a fish on this famous river.



Lamar River

Both fish were hooked by this rock pile where the river bottom dropped off

We pulled into the dirt parking lot at the Slough Creek campground, parked the car and grabbed the gear.  The parking lot was a mess,  I almost got the car stuck in a pot hole the size of a garbage can.  I quickly rigged up and we headed off to the creek.  I fished a drop off below a riffle first and had a few small fish slash at my hopper fly and hooked a small rainbow.  These were not the giant cutthroat trout that legend has it occupy Slough Creek.  As I was releasing the little rainbow, my wife brings my attention to a bull bison that moved out of the tall grass on the far bank from where I was standing.  The bison was only about twenty feet from me.  My wife was a bit concerned, but I thought it was pretty cool to see a bison so close in its natural environment.  I figured with the stream between us, I was safe so I grabbed a few pictures of the animal.  I decided to move and fish some water up stream, much to my wife's relief.  I thought she wanted to see wildlife? 

 

Beautiful Sough Creek

A little to close for  my wife's comfort

I crossed the creek and began working a medium paced run that looked really fishy.  Nothing, no body was home.  As I was working this run a deer moves out of the grass into the creek just upstream from me.  My wife got my attention thinking I was too busy fishing to notice the deer.  I see deer at home all the time, but this was kind of different, this deer was much more wild than the deer at home when I moved it spooked and took off into the tall grass of the meadow. 

I crossed back to the other side of the stream and as I was walking I noticed a big fish cruising through some slow flat water.  This fish was clearly on the hunt for food.  I was positioned on a high bank about fifteen feet downstream from where the fish was rooting around for food on the far side of a downed tree.  I stopped, pointed the fish out to my wife, and put a hopper right between the fish and the log.  The splat of the fly on the water grabbed the fish's attention and it turned towards the fly, slowly rose to the fly scrutinizing every detail as it sipped in the fly.  Wait, wait for the fish to turn its head and STRIKE!  The water erupted with the splashy fury of this angry fish.  I was on a high bank about  ten feet above the water and I had a huge fish on.  I took me a second to realize I was in a bad position to fight and land this fish.  I had to get down into the water.  The fish was running for the cover of the downed tree as I was sliding my self down into the water.  I steered the fish back into open water, I could feel the light tippet straining at the weight of the fish.  I gave the fish a little line to run and run it did.  The fish made a few long runs before it was finally ready to come to the net.  This was the kind of fish I came to Slough Creek to catch.  On the way back to the car, a bison popped out of the tall grass and seemed to follow us.  I stopped to take a picture, my wife got nervous and kept telling me to walk to the car.

From Slough Creek we headed to Roosevelt Lodge for some lunch.  After lunch we drove over to Tower Falls.  A sign indicated that the trail to the bottom of the falls was closed.  What?  Can't get to the bottom?  I was worried that I would not be able to get down to the river to fish.  I took the rod anyway.  I was determined to find a way down to the water.  About half way down there is a spot to view the falls from where we stopped to take some pictures.  I continued on down the trail and noticed that there were people down by the water.  There must be a way down.  When we got to where the trail was closed, we picked up an unimproved path down to the water.  I was standing on the bank of the mighty Yellowstone River.  I began fishing a back eddy behind a big rock.  A fish came up and took my fly, a few head shakes and the fish was gone.  I kept working the soft water along the bank of the Yellowstone on my way to the mouth of Tower Creek, another fish rose to the fly and refused at the last moment.

Tower Fall

Yellowstone River

I worked up into the mouth of Tower creek where there is a fast pool.  I had two rises here and one fish one and off.  As I moved up tower creek, the water was bolder strewn pocket water.  The current was fast and the only fishable spots were in the pockets of slow water created by the big boulders.  I fished upstream a little bit with no rise even after switching flies.  It was time to go back to the Yellowstone.  As I turned to work my way down, there was a deer standing in the water behind me, as if it was following me upstream.

Mouth of Tower Creek

Looking upstream on Tower Creek

I worked my way back down to the Yellowstone and fished the bank of the Yellowstone on the downstream side of Tower Creek before I walked way upstream and worked the drop off in the between the bank and the seam of a heavy run.  Several fish rose to the fly but wood not eat.  I changed flies several times.   Seeing these fish come up sent a shot of adrenaline through the system.  Watching the fish disappear again without eating was disappointing.  Every fly I tried was refused.  Some of the Yellowstone Cuts were HUGE.  The sun was high and bright.  There was all sorts of commotion from all the people that came down to the bank of the Yellowstone to enjoy the "beach" like environment a large sand bar made.  This spot must get a lot of pressure since its right at the bottom of an easy trail into the canyon.  None of these were working in my favor.  These well educated Yellowstone Cutts won this round.

I was able to provoke several huge Cutthroat trout to come to the surface only to refuse my fly on the stretch of river. 

After getting skunked on the Yellowstone, I put the rod away and we drove over to Yellowstone's Grand Canyon to see the upper and lower falls.  This canyon is an amazing site, the water falls are breathtaking and the colors on the canyon walls seem to change in the light and mist.  Artist's Point is a place everyone should see at least during their life.  Truly an amazing sight to see.

Upper Falls in Yellowstone's Grand Canyon

          

 

 

 

First glimpse of Lower Falls, the tallest water fall in YNP

View from Artist Point

 

 

After taking in the vista at Artist Point we went to see the mud pots and sulphur cauldrons as we worked back towards the hotel.

Mud Pots


Dragon's Mouth Spring

The sulphur cauldrons are filled with boiling sulphuric acid and smelled like rotten eggs.

Sulphur Cauldron     

There was about a half an hour left after the sulphur cauldrons before we had to leave for the hotel to make our dinner reservation.  I used that time to fish a section of the Yellowstone River that used to be legendary, but today this part of the river is a shadow of its former self.  Whirling disease and lake trout has decimated the cutthroat population between fishing bridge and Yellowstone's Grand Canyon.  There are still fish, but not many.  The fish that remain are reportedly big, real hogs.  Bugs were popping all around me, I fished a caddis and a parachute adams dropper.  I didn't see any fish rising and I fished all the fishy spots, but I came up empty.  Not even a rise.  Oh well.  At least I was fishing the Yellowstone River, that was much better than going to dinner early.

When we were walking to the dining room, there was a little bat that had clung to a concrete retaining wall by the sidewalk.  I thought it was pretty cool, I've never seen bat up close before.  I was concerned it was sick or injured because when I saw it in the same spot in the morning.