Dream stream, oysters, snow

Right before I went to bed last night I noticed a few freshly gutted turkey remnants adjacent to where I had set up camp.  Some one had killed them that day and left the heads, guts, and plenty of feathers all over the side of the trail.  I wasn't too concerned since I was sleeping above the ground.  

There was a solid layer of ice encasing my truck an tent that morning.   I got out and sure enough something had come in the night and took every bit of the turkey remnants except for the feathers.  

I started heading for the dream stream the game Warden had told me about. It was about three mile connector stream between two resevoirs and apparently large cutthroat traveled up from the lower resevoir.  

I was driving through a cloud most of the way.  Then I appeared in a large plain like opening.  

And here is the dream stream.. 

Honestly, it was not how I pictured it the night before while going to bed.   To me, a great fishery is one not only full of stellar fish, but also surrounded by breath taking, eye candy, scenery.   Granted, it was super windy, cloudy, and snowing, so maybe the landscape encased by the elements was breath taking and just hidden from me.  Needless to say it was an amazing fishery!!!  Huge cutthroat stocked up in every hole!   

Because of the weather I was nymphing, with the wind gusts, that even proved to be a challenge.  Not to much of an obstacle though. 

I even caught a bunch of these mountain sucker fish things. 

Some larger than the cuttys.   

I ran into the only other fishermen on the river and chatted it up a bit.  They told me on any normal weekend day there would be over twenty trucks in parking lot.  I guess the weather scared then away, I'm not complaining.  

I left around one and was unsure if I should head south or west onto beuna vista.  I stopped in a very small town called Hartsel, where I ventured into a resturant/bar to grab some lunch.   Only two patrons were at the bar and seemed to be of the local variety.  The bar tender was a young bearded man wearing a civil war style cap, just like the one that you would often see me wearing in my younger days.  I asked if he had any food suggestions after I ordered a beer, and with out even thinking he said Rocky Mountain oysters...  Now I learned what these were when I was a kid, watching one of those food eating challenges on tv.   At first I thought it to be some kind of joke to play on the outa town folk.  Then the man to my right said they were his favorite and pointed to the plate in front of him.  They didn't look too bad.  Served on fries with a home made green chile sauce smothered on top.   The bartender then proclaimed "they're harvested locally!", and I decided it wouldn't be an adventure with out diving into the local flavors and placed my order.   It truly was a pretty delicious meal.  They were cut in strips and deep fried so I guess they couldn't taste that bad!   

After hearing that beuna vista had already gotten a couple inches of snow, I decided to drive due south towards canon city.  

And that is what I drove into.  White out conditions most of the way.  I think my bike hated it more. 

The storm wasn't letting up so I said the heck with it, got on interstate 25 and headed to New Mexico.  

After checking my map with the weather maps, I decided on sin city New Mexico, Las Vegas!!   Not much to my surprise, this was nothing like the Las Vegas everyone knows.   There was one camp ground on a resevoir near by and I decided to check it out.  The primitive camping was in a field, cost $10, and was not shelted at all from the blasting wind.  I set my sites on the national forest to the west of town.  Just before you get into the canyon you pass into a town called montezuma which holds an amazing castle like building that is now a united world college, what ever that means.  Here is a link to some pics http://www.stephencodrington.com/UWC/USA.html 

I drove up the step winding canyon that did hold a fairly size able stream in it.  But the road took me higher and higher away from it.  Every spot I thought I could sneak down had no trespassing signs.  When I could see the the stream it looked as though it must be some ones private fly fishing playground.   I was in no mood to get shot at or arrested so I carried on up the canyon looking for a camp spot.  For being a national forest, it had no trails or dirt roads.  This made camping seem impossible.  Finally a few miles in I called it quits and camped on a small pull off on a side road.   

I awoke to the fluffy stuff. 

I was totally warm and dry in the tent all night!  I certainly didn't want to get out of it though.  I suddenly remembered passing a hot spring in montezuma on my way up, so I packed up and headed down the snowy canyon to get in the water!  

It was totally empty, not surprising being 7:30 in the morning.  So I put on my swim trunks and hustled across the snowy road armed with my soap and shampoo. 

Since this was such a small town I think only locals ever used them. A bonus, it was totally free!!  The top pool you see in the pic was so hot I couldn't even acclimate my legs to it, so I just stayed in the second pool.   First bath in five days was a very refreshing thing.  

After that I loaded up and hit the road.  I knew this was to be a big driving day since I was going to shoot right across New Mexico, into the Texas panhandle, then through Oklahoma.   An area I had planned not to stop in and for good reason; there really isn't anything there. 

I did stop in armadillo at the Cadillac ranch, as per my dad's suggestion.  I left my mark on the first car.  

In this 14 hour driving spree from New Mexico to Arkansas I had a few hiccups. The first being in New Mexico when I locked my only keys in the car.  I had mentally prepared for this before I left and purposely left the rear sliding window unlocked so I could climb through from the truck bed if I did happen upon this scenario.  The thought was easier than the actual process.  My truck was loaded to brim. So I spent a good ten minutes unpacking stuff so I could crawl up to the window.  But the placement of my tv prevented my body from fitting through.  So I put some inside out gorilla tape donuts on my spinning rod and some how managed to stick my keys and get them out. It truly was a miracle.  

Next came about thirty minutes after I left gas station.  There was a very strong north east wind blowing, making driving pretty difficult.  All the sudden my truck started to bump and severely slow down. I looked in my mirrors and noticed my tent cover flopping around.  I pulled over to find out the years of weather elements and this excessive wind, had shredded the top middle of the cover.  So again I broke out the gorilla tape and really taped her down.  This lasted til my destination in Arkansas.  I will have to think of an easy repair for this later on in the week. 

Now I am near ozark arkasanas.  Plan on heading into the ozark mountains in the morning and fishing the white river. But I am setting my alarm for early in the AM so I can see the lunar eclipse because it is a beautiful, clear night here!  

Duh! Yeh! We're in the Rockies

I had no real plan for Friday.  I packed up and set out with my atlas.  My cousin lives in Estes park and although she was out of town she really thought it would be worth checking out.  It's also had a nice river to potentially fish!   

I got into Fort Collins then headed west up the canyon towards Estes park.  This canyon contains the big Thompson river and was one of the areas decimated by the floods they had last year.  It was a fairly tight canyon with tall and steep walls.   This area was littered with small cabins lining the banks of the big Thompson.  The amount of destruction caused by the floods was terrifying.  Houses were just flattened.  Some lifted off the ground, only to be found somewhere down stream.  Many of them were literally cut in half.  You could see couches and kitchens perfectly from the road.  You really get to soak it all in because there is still major road construction and stream renovation going on, pretty slow moving.  

Enough with the despressing stuff...  I emerged out of the canyon and into Estes park, with an incredible view of Rocky Mountain national park.   It was warm and not a cloud in the sky.  I found the outflow of the resevoir and decided to fish.  This was a Friday morning and a completely different fishing scene then I was used to...  The river was packed!!!  People were fishing almost on top of each other.   So I slithered my way into a small spot and went to work.   Multiple fish hitting the surface and I had been watching people catch fish that were  three feet in front on them.  It wasn't long until I hooked into some beautiful fish! 

Unfortunately this floppy fish pic is the only one I got.  But very healthy rainbows for days!! 

The one spot my cousin said I needed to see was the Stanley hotel.   This hotel was the inspiration for Stephen kings "The Shinning".  It was also were it was filmed. Apparently King and his wife stayed in the hotel, which was already at that time known for some ghostly happenings, and saw things out of the ordinary then wrote the book.   The other truly legendary work of art that was partly filmed there was Dumb and Dumber!   The scenes that were shot there can be seen here. 

And I got a pic with this gem, which is still in the same location as when the movie was shot. 

WE LANDED ON THE MOON!!!!

The hotel itself was a magnificent place and mostly originally.  I imagine the grand hotels, during the early days of my home town looked very similar inside and out. 

It had an ok view.  

I took rt7 through the mountains south, into boulder.  From there I hopped on the highway and headed through the construction and traffic nightmare of Denver.  I immediately missed the mountains.   I set my sites on a place called deckers on the south platte river.

A very tight winding road finally leads you to banks, seeing the river made the drive seem totally worth it.  

As the day was winding down, I decided it was more important to find a campsite then to fish right away.  I drove past three, the first empty but no wind protection, second was full of a large Mexican family reunion with a sectioned off crowd of very terrifying teenage rednecks who insisted I stayed and partied, the third was right on the banks of the river with plenty of trees in a deep ravine.   I picked the latter. 

Painfully I had to pay a site fee since the camp steward drove around right after I arrived.   It was worth it in the long run though, my neighbors for the evening were a bunch of folk my age from Denver who wanted out of the city for the weekend.   They kindly invited me down for dinner and we drank around the campfire til the wood ran out and copious amounts of alcohol were consumed.   

The next morning I woke up early, somehow, and set out to fish.  Already at 8am the river was packing up with fishermen and ladies.  I couldn't believe how many people were fly fishing.  It was like musical chairs, everyone moving to the next whole at the same time.  By about 10 I'd had enough.  I caught one nice brown and headed back.  I returned to the smell of pancakes that my neighbors had been cooking.  They insisted I come down and indulge with them in exchange for some fly fishing lessons, I happily agreed.   I strung up another rod and took a few of them down to the banks for a fly fishing crash course.   Most of them got a hang of casting fairly quickly.   But before any catching took place, check out time arrived.  I said my goodbyes and headed south towards forest park.  

Around the fire the night before there was talk of a big storm coming.  One with colds temps and potentially quite a bit of snow. So I wanted to get on my way south to see if I could juke around it.  

The next destination was a place called 11 mile canyon. This is east of gunnison co, about the same lattitude.  On the way in I decided to stop at a little convience store and get some beer.  While in there I saw a computer set up to get your fishing license online.  For some reason I just had a feeling it would be a good idea to get one, so I did, it was a lucky decision. 

I have to give a big shout out to western rivers fly shop back in Utah.  I brought in my atlas one day, telling the guys my proposed route and seeing if they had any suggestions.   They circled on my atlas some of the most beautiful trout streams I have ever seen.  11 mile canyon was one of those.  Clear green water, huge boulders all along the banks, and plenty of eating fish!   Not mention some really cool rock tunnels! 

And a double one 

I stopped a few places and fished on the way up, with pretty good luck on a dry dropper. 

I stopped near the dam and while I was fishing guess who pulls up...  Colorado game warden!   He came up to me and asked how I was doing, I told him great and about how amazing the area was.  He abruptly asked for my fishing license. With a huge shit eating grin I presented my license.   This was the first time in my life I had been asked to show a fishing license and it just so happened to be one of the extremely few times I actually had one!  He was very friendly after and he gave me directions to a place I could primitive camp as well direction to colorados "dream stream" which I will be hitting tomorrow!  

I found a nice little spot off the beaten path and made camp.  I still had a bit of day light left so I decided to clean my .22 and shoot some cans.   Just as much fun as when I was ten. 

 After a few shots I finally hit the pop top bullseye.  

That's all for now.  Hittin the dream stream tomorrow!!

Wild West

When I looked out my tent Wednesday morning, the skies were clear and flaming  gorge resevoir was dead calm.   I had spent the night before reading a trout unlimited magizine lucky lisle gave to me.  It had an article in it about a place in Wyoming called little mountain.  It contained a very small stream, about 3 feet wide, which held native cutthroats.  This was a random place for these fish since it was a high desert and water was scarce.  It just so happens that it was on route to my next destination, green river wyoming. 

My first new state on the trip!!  I drove north on rt191 and saw the towering land mass called little mountain. The area was much larger than it's name led on to believe.   I drove down dirt roads and searched for the small stream but all I found was dried up creek beds.  I'm sure some locals knew where to find it and would most likely keep it's location hidden to the grave.  

So on I went. Rt191 climbs up extremely high on a ridge line where you had a 360 degree of everything, or nothing depending on what you were looking for. Seventy miles to route 80, seventy miles of absolutely nothing but rocks and sage brush.   

Since my mission to find the small stream failed I decided to hit the laundry mat.  I had forgotten how exspensive those places were!   Afterwards I met up with my friend Kate who I had met in salt lake but was originally from rock springs wyoming.  Her brother joe now resides in green river and had offered up a roof over my head for the night and to take me fishing on the gorge.  

We left around three and got to a secret spot down a long dirt road he had fished many times before, that produces a plethora of meaty rainbows.  By this time the wyoming winds had really kicked up and we decided fly rods were not going to cut it so we broke out some spinning rods, his secret lures, and headed to the bank.  The shore line was very loose rock and you could tell by the water coloring that it dropped sharply at the bank to a depth of about fifty feet.  Joes instructions were to cast it out far, let it sink for a few seconds then slowly twitch in... I hooked into a beautiful deep purple rainbow on the first cast!!

After that the hits kept coming! 

I think we caught about twenty fish total.  All big healthy rainbows.  Oh and it was a treat to have "real" beer again!  

We left at Sundown to head back to joes where Kate and joes girlfriend Ashley had prepared a wild game feast.  Featuring cuts from joes deer and moose he shot this year.  It was by far the best game meat I have ever tasted.  Accompanied by cauliflower, potatoes, joes secret sauce(he has got a lot of secret things), and finished with an ice cream sandy.  I got to sleep on an air mattress as well!!  Great food and wonderful hospitality, thank you Joe, Ashley, and Kate! 

I left in the AM intent on hitting the north platte river south east of Rawlins wyoming.  I had heard good things about this stretch and fish with in it.  The ride east on rt80 was fast and easy.  I had about a twenty five mile an hour tail wind that resulted in some fantastic MPGs.  But then I turned south and was slammed with wind.   I arrived at a little town on the platte with a familiar name to it. 

They also had a hot spring!!  What are the chances??  In the town I stopped at a local fly shop to see how the river was. It was completely blown out from the past two day thaw.   I was given some recommendations on where to fish/camp and set off south.  

Unfortunately every spot I stopped at was extremely windy and very murky from run off.  Then it started to rain/snow...  I knew my spell of great weather couldn't go on forever!   So I kept trucking south hoping for a break in the weather or Atleast a sheltered place to camp.  No luck.  I ended up only being a few miles from the Colorado border, so I dove in!  

I opted to head east towards Fort Collins in search of less rain and snow.  

It was a bit different scenery.  I was driving through Roosevelt national forest. This sent me over 10,276' Cameron pass then down the mountain on the other side.  

I was following the Poudre river down and stopped multiple times to check out the water and fish situation.  It was quite a few miles before I got below the snow line and I starting searching for a place to camp.  For a state that prides itself on being so liberal and albeit hippy in the eyes of the rest of the country,  it sure has a lot of "No" signs.   Trying to find a primitive camp spot with in this national forest proved to be very difficult.  The scenery made up for my frustration.  Steep canyon walls following a stellar river that reminded me of the Ellis river in New Hampshire where my grandma lived. 

I stopped and talked to a hiker who said there was one camp area open a few miles down the road that was open.  I'm not sure if some one broke the locks or it was actually open but I passed about ten other sites with the gates closed, so I pulled in and set up camp.  After the tent was up I put on waders and hit the river which was right next to my truck.  All this after I tapped into an old friend from back east who I found in a cooler in Wyoming... 

I did not see any fish at all. I walked the river a bit, checking rocks to see what kind of creepy crawlies were lurking, and decided on a dry dropper.  The combo work and I hooked into this furotious little guy. 

I caught a few more little fish then headed back to my camp.  The winds died down, I made food, and relaxed with some blue heavys.  

Headed to the green

Tuesday morning was clear and sunny.  A trend I have been experiencing that I truly hope continues.  I closed up shop at the site and headed back down to jones hole to get some morning fishing in.  I stopped into the hatchery and talked to one of the seasonal workers who lived there.   He was from vernal but said he hadn't fished this gem of a creek in a year and he lived there!   We talked about some fishing destinations he recommended in Colorado and New Mexico.  I urged him to string up his rod and hit the river!   That is what I did promptly after.  

Plenty of stellar fish all hitting the surface.   I had on an elk hair caddis and the fish couldn't resist!  This river had pretty thick foliage all the way up and down and I caught almost as many fish as trees.  Just before I left and right after losing a fly in the trees I decided to tie on a fly that I tied before I left.  This fly really didn't look like much of any thing specific but it was sort of buggy.  The second rock I casted behind I got a hit and pulled a fish in.  The first ever fish I had caught on my own tied fly.   A special fish on an amazing stretch of water that I will never forget. 

I found a way to get from my current quardanants to rt191 and then onto the green without back tracking.  Albeit lots of dirty, muddy roads but it was worth the scenery.   I saw wildlife everywhere in the forms of rabbits, deer, and lots of pronghorns.   

Jones hole drained me of a lot of fly gear and I stopped at a fly shop/convience store right before the dam.  There I met lucky Lisle, a fly fishing drift guide of the green who operated out of the shop. We exchanged quite a few fish stories and he was taken back by the rivers I had visited while in Utah and on the trip thus far.  After I paid for the most exspensive flys and beer on the planet, I said my good byes to lisle and the staff and lisle offered me a trip "off the meter" if I ever returned.   I headed down to little hole at the beginning of section B of the Green River. 

This was a biggggg river!  I was told you could wade fish it up and down from the boat ramps at little hole.  I saw some fish rising and multiple BWOs flying around.  I couldn't coerxt any of the fish to take the imitation.   It was very intimidating seeing the size of the river and the amount of places fish could be.   While by the ramps a hawk dove into the water about twenty yards in front of me, emerging from the water with a 15" brown trout in its claws, quite the site.  Along the way I also saw some familiar back east friends, blue herons! 

I decided to head up stream and around the bend to explore the river as much as I could before sunset.  The water was super clear and when the wind would calm down I could see fish all along the banks not feeding on the surface.  So I strung up a dry dropper rig with a stimulator and one of Lisa's little red riding hood nymphs.  I hooked into a nice size rainbow on the dropper right off the bat.  

And another.. And one more.  Then to my suprise a brown on my top fly.  Stimulators are my favorite flys and it felt great to get a fish on one again.  Summer is coming!  

I hiked about a mile upstream, fishing a bit, mainly watching the drift boats go by that some day I will try.  On the way back I spotted a nice size brown feeding in the shallows, one cast about five feet in front of him got a bite! 

I headed back to the truck and started my search for a place to camp.  There was one campground in the area and strictly enforced no primitive camping.  I was not about to pay $15 to park my truck so I headed north on 191.   I found a pull off called jug hallow.  It was a few mile dirt road that led right to the banks of flaming gorge reservoir.  I drove around for a bit til I found a nice spot out of the wind and made camp.  

I tried fishing a bit but shore fishing just isn't my thing.  Too used to having a boat at my disposal, spoiled I know.  So I made some food and watched the sunset.  

The warmest night thus far.  Didn't even need thermals on!!  Next I am into the town of Green River in Wyoming to see some salt lake friends who live there. 

Eastern Utah

I awoke Monday morning to a wee bit of frost, not to my surprise the tent stayed relatively warm!  I decided to suit up and hit the river for an hour before I departed.  A few more fish were to be had but it was time to ramble on. 

I travelled a dirt road that followed the strawberry river from the pinnacles all the way to starvation resevoir.   At this point I was torn between heading straight to section b of the green river or head to a spot in far north eastern Utah.    I opted for the latter... And I did not choose poorly!  

On the way to this spot you head high up on large plateau from where you can see clear into the uintas.  It was a bit cold and desolate atop this plateau and I did fear it might be a cold night.  A 10% grade sign signaled the dive into the canyon where the spot was hidden.   What a magnificent canyon it was.  Here is a view from the top. 

After quite a few miles of descending you reach the end of the road, a national fish hatchery, set at the spring that feeds the creek.  I arrived around one, put on my waders, and set out to hike down the canyon to find some fish.    There was a plethora.  It was a small stream enormous cliff walks everywhere you looked.  The water was super clear and it only took about ten seconds for me to spot fish.  And they were big!   Nice size rainbows filled every eddy and rock tail.  All were hitting the surface and after about 3 casts I hooked in my first bow. 

Beautiful fish every where I looked!   I would toss a fly behind a rock and BAM, fish on!!  I fished for a few hours until the sun was long disappeared behind the canyon walls then headed up to find a place to camp.   There is a great primitive camp site ten feet in front of the no camping sign so I dove in.  

My first fire of the trip, wood compliments of the previous dwellers.  Nothing like a beer and warm sphagettios roasting on an open fire!  The night was calm and the whole area silent.  Just a few rabbits running around.   I climbed into my tent and spent the night reading max brooks Zombie Survival guide and fiddling around with the wind up am/fm/weather radio mom got me for Christmas.  The canyon walls prohibited any sane type of broadcast and the only chatter on the small green box that I could find was the Glenn beck show on fox radio...  So I went back to reading in silence.  

My posts will most likely all be a day late. So far I have been out of service a lot.  So tomorrow I plan on posting about today's adventure, just to keep ya on your toes here is a teaser. 

Wow big surprise Scott, you are at another river...