Fly Fishing in Colorado
The crew just got back from a great week of fishing and hanging out in Steamboat Springs Colorado. The Yampa River flows right through town, and though the weather was a bit tough, we had lots of great opportunities to fish. I’ll post a full report soon, but meanwhile here are a few pics from the trip…..
Wood Duck Soft Hackle
The duck feathers from early season hunting have been begging me to tie a few flies, so when they came out of the freezer a few nights ago I had to sit down and stock the boxes. Wood duck feathers are some of my absolute favorites to tie with. The chocolate brown feathers on a hen wood duck are awesome for Baetis-style flies, and since Baetis are hatching right now on the streams, I decided to go with a BWO theme. I’ve been wanting to tie a soft hackle with the tiny feathers on the shoulder of a duck’s wing, so I tied up this little soft hackle emerger that ended up faintly resembling a BWO… Hook: Nymph or wet fly hook of your preference Bead: Gold brass Thread: Brown 8/0 UNI (I used black on this one) Tail: Chocolate brown hen wood duck breast/neck feather fibers Body: Brown thread…
Dry Flies and Driftless Tricos
The past few days have been a little chilly, but it was downright cold this morning when I hit the river before sunrise. I was freezing by the time I had waded a few yards upstream in my shorts, but the crisp morning air got me excited for the cooler fall days ahead. Fishing was a little tough this morning. I fished for about an hour and only pricked a fish, tangling a few rigs and losing a few flies in the process. I got my first trout of the morning indicator nymphing with a #20 pheasant tail in a sweet hole that brushed right up into a big logjam. Once I landed that first trout, things started to pick up. I managed a few nice browns in the riffles before coming upon a good run that flowed against the rip-rapped bank, very similar to the pool we found tricos…
Tricos on the Root
September 1, 2013 Day 2 – I persuaded Noah to hit the river with me early Sunday morning. It was another beautiful morning in the Driftless as we hiked down the trail and started fishing. This time we headed downstream and hit some of the deep, turbulent pools that brush against the limestone cliffs. Both of us fished dry-dropper rigs in hopes of picking off a few browns, but didn’t have any luck. After fishing nymphs for a while, I noticed a few sporadic risers feeding in a slow tailout. I checked the river for bugs, and sure enough a few tricos were floating downstream. I quickly chopped of the nymph and tied on a #12 Pass Lake dry with a big white calftail wing followed by a #20 trico spinner twelve inches behind. The trout were still rising inconsistently, and the first few browns I floated my trico over…
Fly Fishing the Root River
During the past long weekend, we camped on the South Branch of the Root River for a few days of good fishing and hiking. The Root is one of the premier trout streams of southeastern Minnesota’s Driftless Area (Fly Fisherman even ran an article on it). Winding through valleys bordered by limestone bluffs, the Root harbors a great population of wild browns approaching a few thousand a mile in the prime reaches. The river is born from springs in the headwaters after taking a trip through the subterranean passages of Mystery Cave, emerging as a cold, clear stream enhanced by the nutrients from the cave. We pulled in the campground late Friday night and set up camp in the dark. I had heard and read about the Root and it’s prolific trico hatches before, but we’ve never fished it, so I was pumped when we decided to head down for the…
Boundary Waters Pike and Smallmouth
I slid the canoe into the lake and stared out at the white caps. Across the bay, the pines were bending and straining to stay upright in the 30 mph gusts of wind. A light rain started to fall as Braden and I shoved off and headed for the tiny island a hundred yards off the campsite. Canoeing, let alone fishing, seemed downright ridiculous in the fierce, heaving lake. For the past two days, we were stuck in our tents as the wind howled and rain pounded our tent as temps approached record lows (in the high 30’s), weather more conducive to curling up and reading a book rather than fishing. But it was the last day. I couldn’t handle it anymore. At first, the wind seemed manageable as we started out from shore. But when we reached the open water it was obvious that it would be all I could…