Endless Summer

Cruise control.  The days, the fishing, the life.  I've grown accustomed to my little 15 minute morning commute to the chosen fishing grounds.  A few minutes south and over the first bridge at Sheep Creek, eyeing the river where I've fished a couple times both above and below lately, the little island showing above Tower Rock on river right.  A few more minutes and miles, and the canyon opens up a bit as I cross two more bridges near the tiny development of Dearborn, a place I'd live.  Over a little knob and down to the next bridge where the river of the same name comes in, then following the long flat glide up to Stickney.  I need to fish those two mid-river islands at Stickney.

Another couple of bends and "high bridge" gets the juices pumping as I stare at the classic runs to both sides, checking the parking areas for any intruders . . . er, fellow fishermen.  One more little hill, a two-second look at the Ladders parking area as I whizz by, then the Craig exit around the bend finishes the interstate portion of my commute.  I've maybe seen 5 or 6 cars.

When the Ladders is empty, there's often a quick U-turn right there.  Otherwise, 5 minutes up or down river  from Craig puts me just about anywhere I want to be.  Its been quiet everywhere as of late.  If there's more than one vehicle parked, there's none at the next spot.  Things have pretty much reached epic status now.  I know I keep harping on it, but the low water and 70 degree days just make for very special conditions that we don't see every year.  I can wade to every little island and every little side channel for the ultimate in sight fishing.  

Each little spot in a run has its own nuance, its own preferred approach, and its own memories.  All the spots now have soft fish-landing zones.  Every island, point, and turn or indentation in the river bank.  The flows bring everything together that turn a big river into a little dry fly paradise.  I haven't mentioned the weeds.  Yes, there's some floating down, but not a bother.  I've seen it far worse in October.

This week, I fish wets for a bit in the morning, and blue-wings all afternoon.  The colors are at their absolute peak.  Wind is minimal to non-existent until today.  There's finally, truly, somethin' comin' called late Fall, or Winter as I call it.  So it'll end, but this dream seemed endless.  Today is day 12 here by my count, and I've fished 'em all.

Home

Precarious parking with semi's and cars flying past at 70 and 80 mph.

Once over the ladder, it gets quieter with every step

That view before the descent

It's worth many looks

The fish here see you coming, but its always fun to see them back.  You ain't gonna catch one at these flows.

Some mornings the hatch is in progress.  Pick a bwo and get to work.

On windy mornings there's been a protected slot in the middle with risers.

Glass calm on the next channel down.

Even got a couple of fish on this one all powdered up and dry.  Size 10!

When this one is calm, you can spot every fish.

A size 12 swinger

The 'ole glory hole.

So much good water

I shoot this tree every year.  It just shines at you all along a shallow 100-yard long run of the main river teeming with fish.

Took a day to walk down to this one, only to have the wind come up.  Wets to the rescue.

Just above Stickney