Weeds, Puyans, and an Ant

Okay, so that fish I posted the other day is not going to be my last Ranch fish.  Three hours from Silver Creek to here isn't far enough to keep me away.  I gotta know.  I pull into Ranch View about 10:00 am. There's some horse trailer rigs, a couple of cars, and Fred's van. I take the van as a good sign. As I walk over to the river, Fred and his wife are sitting in a chair overlooking millionaires. Neither have waders on, not a good sign. A quick exchange of pleasantries and I head to the top of the run.

It's not happening, and I end up back down at the cliffs with not so much as a wake from a fish.  Dead.  Down here, every once in awhile one comes up, totally random and out of range. The drifting weeds are as thick as they get. Everywhere in the column.  I drove 3 hours last night, so I'm damn sure going to try and catch one. I finally try swinging the natural squirrel leech.  I'm getting chases and follows from some nice fish I can see through the weeds, but when they reach the fly it's already turned to salad.  Swinging anything in the water is futile.  

I finally get a few feet of a clean swing and scratch one out! I don't know what it is about the rainbows in this run of this river, but many are the most beautiful rainbows of anywhere I fish. Like I've said before, there's just something about a Millionaire's rainbow.

Late lunch time.  Next to nothing for risers, and weedy water, so now I'm thinking Livingston or Craig by dark.  Might as well go up to the log jam to park, have some lunch, and think about which one for tomorrow. 

Two cars and a camper in the lot.  I walk over to the platform where four people are standing.  Two guys in waders, and a man and woman in terrestrial clothing.  The two in waders, with rods leaning on the railing, talk about how the fish wouldnt eat anything. Not surprisingly, there's fish rising at the log jam.  Mostly smaller ones, but as I take a few steps down the trail and look across at the slick foamy bottom of one of the riffles, it sure looks like heads.  I step into my waders and negotiate the lava rocks to give them a closer look.

Soon I'm hooked up, and then again.  Two of the four observers leave after a thumbs up. I'm hooked up for a third time.  All big fish.  This is kind of nuts. Big ranch rainbows. I'm landing them bank side, out of the faster current.

The lady finally asks what I'm using, and I tell  it's a giant flying ant that I don't know the name of. "it's a Harrop pattern."  "I'll have to ask Rene about that," she says.  That gets my attention, as she accents his first name like friends do.

I'm already near the bank 30 ft below the platform. "Here I'll show you one." I explain I got the pattern from one of Rene's writings many years ago, but that I didn't think it was in any of his books.  I open my box and offer her one, and she thanks me for it.

We exchange names as is customary here.  "I'm Jennifer Puyans.". Wow. I do one of those double-takes and she immediately smiles and nods, "Yes, I'm Andre's wife!" We end up chatting for a good 15 or 20 minutes about a few things fly fishing.  AP styles.  Tying.  Whip finishers. Euro nymphing.  Traditions. The Harrops. AK. She says she still fishes all-wire pheasant tails (no thread). I tell her my favorite quote from Andre, "Don't take any shit from your materials." We both laugh, and she confirms that he used that phrase often.  I learn that Andre taught Mel Krieger how to cast.  Who knew?  So this is my brush with fly tying royalty on the Henry's Fork.  You just never know what the little walk to the platform, or a little fishing in front of it, is going to bring.

She departs, leaving Bill from Oregon and me overlooking the log jam. A big fish works on the far side of the slick.  "That fish is probably tougher than the ones down in the riffle," I tell him. "Let's see it," he says.  I wade out and stick the 20 incher on the big ant with the first cast and a long float.

 

I ask Bill if he wants a shot at the remaining two big heads eating out there, and he comes down off the platform and wades out to me.  "Do you want one of these ants instead of that little parachute you have tied on?"  That's a no-brainer.  I give him one and stand back as he wades to the fish.  A few casts and he gets ate but misses.  "I was looking down at my line when he took it." I know that feeling.

I go back down below and boil up two more killer eats but don't keep them hooked.  I'm fishing this thing on 3x so I have a chance in the weeds and current.   

The fish rise for the rest of the evening, but are wise or disinterested in the big ant.  I get an eat with a big triple double though!  One fish pigging on the tiny blue wings beautifully refuses both.  I get schooled with a mole on 5x. Sunset is now at 6:36.  Yikes.

One more look at the most beautiful millionaires rainbow.