OK, so this is turning into a daily soap opera, but its MY soap opera. I can't even remember the fishing in June this year without looking back. There's nothing going on in the evenings unless I'm lucky, and I used that up the one evening at Osborne. So I have plenty of time and battery.
This morning, I wasn't going to get a repeat yesterday's cloudy-day magic, or all the luck from the day before. I needed a change of scenery too. Forecast was for sunny turning windy, so I figured it would be a short day anyway. One I needed, truth be told. So I stayed below Ranch View, knowing it wasn't going to be epic or anything. It did finally work itself out after a cold start that had me slipping on frozen wading shoes, and walking with my hands in my pockets. Fall on the caldera.
 |
| Cold walk in from the Silver Lake parking lot |
 |
| Only to find weeds nearly covering the path into the main channel, and birds galore. It was still cold, and I wasn't thrilled with my location. |
 |
| The water below the confluence was hardly moving. Too slow for me. |
 |
| So I walked out, warmed up, and drove down to Sage Flats to cross the river and walk back up. |
 |
| Of course, I ended up right back where I started, only on river left, and got in another mile of walking, wading, and sage busting. |
 |
| Its now nearly 10:00, and not a bug to be seen, trico or otherwise. |
 |
| In the distant shadow of the smoky Tetons. That's Les over on the other side of those peaks.😁 |
 |
| I thought this riffle might have its own little hatch of something. Nope. |
 |
| I had to do it. A mile of 6X and a #20 trico-ish thing. They ate it though! |
 |
| The current was slow enough to mess with the fish until they got a bunch of weeds on 'em and then I could run 'em down with the net. |
 |
| This stuff made an acceptable landing zone for the 6X. Yes, I'm upstream from where I first walked in (background), and then drove a mile downstream to walk a mile to get back up here! |
 |
| It really was very green |
 |
| The only one I saw all morning, on my waders |
 |
| The last risers were here, just before the wind. |
Like sands though the hourglass . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment