Big Wyoming

It's a different river up here in the arctic barren wasteland known as Southwest Wyoming.  An hour and a half from the house.  There's hardly a tree or bush taller than the sage across the huge 100 mile expanse of sage flats between two 12,000+ foot mountain ranges of the Uintas to the south and the Wind Rivers to the north.  On the clear days, I can see both ranges in the distance, 50 miles away in each direction.  The river runs out of the northwest Winds, and right through the plains known to pilots as the Wyoming wind corridor.  My pilot/clients say controllers often guide all commercial aircraft around it to avoid turbulence.  But this damn river sure holds some big trout, and I shouldn't drive past it on my way to somewhere else as often as I do.  Its a long one too, with plenty of public access and trout in every mile, but the tailwater below the only dam on the main stem in Wyoming gets most of the attention.  Word's out on it these days, but pre-internet in the 90's, oh my god.  The stories I could tell.  We didn't know how good we had it, or at least didn't appreciate it as we should have.  I'm fortunate enough to catch two giant fish on back to back days, a rainbow and a brown. The brown is probably my last fish of the month, if not the fall season.  I'll have a little buzz from this one right through the winter.

Not sure what the spike was about the other day, but its a smooth, easy-to-wade 654 now.

This River won't win any beauty awards, though many say it has a "beauty of its own."  Ya, brown most of the year, windy as hell nearly all year, hot for a few weeks, cold nearly always, really cold most of the long winter, and home to a shitload of antelope and some really big trout.  I do like the solitude that still remains in the off season, and its the closest thing I have to the MO in daytrip range.

The picture doesn't come close to doing this fish justice.  I shit when I see it.  The heaviest rainbow I've taken all season.  "Only" 21 or 22 inches, but a football.  My hand never comes close to fitting around it, but I have a bank to balance it on.  Hell, my hand won't even cover one side of it!

Back in the day we used to float down from the dam and camp on this island, wading and casting parachute Adams all around it to big rising fish with no humans in sight for days on end.  We called it "Cow Shit Island" for obvious reasons, but we could always clear enough space for a couple tents and the fire pit.  

Riverside trees in the floodplain.

Cows are still allowed to graze on the BLM land.  Before the wind!

I find a place further upriver with less wind, and where it blows from behind me, off my right shoulder.  Hero casts!

This is the scene for most of the 90 mile drive here. You pass a car every 10 or 15 minutes, but definitely more antelope.

The river's origins in the wind River range off in the distance.

I've caught fish in this side channel during the high water of spring and summer.  The last couple of trips I've been driving through it.

This side channel doesn't get floated this time of year, and it was the magic spot today.

The salmon spawn has been over for a few weeks but they still remain in this form.

These guys know where to fish.

Wide water with very long riffles and pools.

I was pretty sure this was going to be the fish of the day.

I knew this would be the fly of the day since the hatch was extremely sparse and brought up mostly small fish.

And then the biggest trout I've caught all year ate it!  I'm still shaking a little.

Pictures can't do him justice, and I sure as hell couldn't hold him.  He is one of the most beautiful browns I have ever seen.  Have to hurry too.

25 inches based on the net and the mark on my wading stick.

Little Trib.

One I used to fish a lot.  Then just in October a lot, when the hatches were heavy and the crowds not so much.  Now just to end October, and this year, be one of the last before they close the gate on the season tonight, a week early.  I get there soon enough to be first through the gate and first to the favored run to cast the dry to oversized rising fish in low water.  There's a few up, but I have to wait a lot.  A midge or two fly here and there, and once in a while I see a bwo.  It's really not much to write home about, but the day is perfect otherwise.  Worth the 100 mile drive just to check up on things and make sure there's still some good ones left. There's ungated water below the lake I can fish later on if weather and desire match up.

Magic Bend

I thought this was a #20 Griffith Gnat when I tied it on.  Upon further review, it looks to be a LaFontaine Buzzball.  

This fish ate it an inch off the weed bed.

The Mole got some sweet refusals!  Maybe a bit too scruffy?

Right against the weed beds is where they ate the occasional bug on the bend

Glass calm all day, very rare for this part of Wyoming.

The toughest run with the spookiest fish on the whole creek, but there's sure some nice ones that live here.

Rare and endangered today, but some were a whopping size 16.

The top end of the creek has a large beaver pond/outlet pool with very little current at these flows, perfect for this.  It got a couple of great grabs in the long slick too.

Said pond held some nice colorful rainbows

They sort of saved the day.

Locals

Often overlooked, sometimes ridiculed, but never forgotten.  The Green is one of the largest drainages in the West, and hundreds of miles of it grow large trout, along with some of its tributaries.  I'm smitten by Idaho and Montana, all their beauty and tradition, and their favorable stream access laws.  The fishing in western Wyoming and northern Utah is just as good in some places though.  I have two within 90 miles of the house, and one that is half that.   Warm, sunny fall weather hangs on, so I take the week to soak it in while I can.  Three days on the lower start it off.

The Utah tailwater now flows at bare minimum during the day, 820 cfs, with a surge at night for power.  I get to the river around 10:30ish, just an hour's drive over the mountain.  Up the trail 1/2 mile or so leads to some good water to blind fish a hopper or flying ant to the banks and the slower water.  The blue wings start around noon and go for two to three hours.  I park in a wide riffle or work up a rocky bank and stay engaged with some rising fish.  There's a few good ones in the mix, even though it never boils.  Just enough fish in just the right spots.  It's always productive with as many fish as it holds.  The challenge is targeting the nice ones, in skinny water, where they're skittish.

This is what power generation does, but at least its low and stable during fishing hours, and constant from day to day.

Fall with some summer-like feel, without the crowds.

These scum holes always hold fish, but they get a bad rap as "scum suckers."  Perhaps deservedly. 

They like this one.

Gotta love it.

This is a good pre-hatch prospector along the banks.  Yes, a hopper in late October!

Rainbows too.

The ole "splash down" channel is too low to hold fish. (you had to be there!)

This thing works both pre-hatch and during the hatch.  They just come up for it!

These make missing the Beaverhead in October a little less painful.

Just enough bwo's.

The winner for the bwo's.

Just enough of these Colorado River Cutts to get that silly "slam" thing every day.

Ate the hopper on the bank!