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| Utah Rivers |
You know how it is...you have a friend, who has a friend, to whom you're introduced. Before you know it your mutual friend is telling you where to go!
Spey Clave, the
Fly Fishing Fair, the
St. Joe,
Silver Creek and a special river in Utah. Though this very special river was written up in a recent issue of a regional fly fishing magazine, reminiscent of James at the
KINGFISHER, our friend asked we keep the name of this waterway to ourselves. Also reminiscent of James, we never shared a section of river with other anglers, but there was steady angling traffic, i.e. - no secret!
So we're keeping mum, but not to be smug. Whether offering flies or advice, fly fishers are typically a generous lot, however, like any other endeavor, fly fishing depends on building relationships. One can glean dream destinations from the glossy pages of magazines (writers need to make a buck too), but add a lively mix of one-on-one with the local fly shop and other anglers, and you'll bank your own relationships and not-so-secret, secret fishing holes.
No matter where we're fishing, floating or wading, Donna and I have good intentions of sticking together. Donna is the more disciplined of the 2 of us. Wading, she likes to hike downstream and fish her way up. She persuades me to come along, but when I pass a nice spot, I see no reason not to to fish it on the way down, then again on the way up. Within minutes, our good intentions are up in smoke, measurable by the minimum quarter mile distance between us.
At
special river, together we resolved to fish by compromise - fish our way upstream, dry fly; combined hopscotching each other and taking turns as we moved from fishy section to fishy section. We had a blast, in turn scouting, netting fish, taking occasional photos and simultaneously fishing the same long stretch.
Special river residents include wild cutties and browns - BIG browns.
You can stand or sit as still as a statue when you catch a small trout, just strip or reel it in. When you catch a bigger fish, who is looking for opportunities to slip the hook, you need to be prepared to move your feet or your watercraft. The long stretch of creek pictured shows where Ms. Brown and I became acquainted and where we finally parted company and yes, she tried every trick in the book to twist me off on stray rocks and twigs.
Donna, net in hand, moved to assist - the trout dashed between Donna's legs, putting the 3 of us in a pickle. Donna didn't know which way to dodge; I didn't know which way to parry; the trout didn't know which way to counter dart. Shame we didn't get a picture of all that.... What are the chances of this happening twice in 1 day? Let's just say, as gillie, Donna is temporarily fired : )
I'm accostomed to brown trout hunkering down like a catfish or snapping turtle, once hooked. They sometimes behave more like an anchor than a trout and need to be heaved up from the fathoms. It was my turn to fish a nice sandy bottomed clear pool, 5 - 8 feet deep. Two trout were holding there, 1 a very nice brown. My Goddard Caddis fluttered to the surface and the big brown shot up from the bottom, we hooked up for a split second at which time Mr. Brown skyrocketed out of the pool about 5 feet straight in the air. My mouth dropped as high as that fish jumped and with a definitive snap, that was the end of that.
There were more big trout caught and missed, likewise middle-size fish caught and missed.
Special river was wild and beautiful, full of wild, beautiful trout - in short, very special.
On our drive out, about here we saw the bear. At first I needed to crane my neck around a bend in the road to try to make out the dark shape I caught a glimpse of. A small bear, topping out at about 300 lbs. was curiously standing on hind legs, on the driver's side of the road. In fact, I think the bear was doing the same thing I was, "What the...?". The bear, figuring well ahead of me, was on all fours, crossed the road pronto, then scampered passenger-side for a couple of hundred feet, before ditching into the brush and forging the river.
Donna asked why on earth I characterized the [black] bear as small, when it looked big enough to her. So far, we've encountered a bear twice while we were driving in the truck; so far that's my favorite way to encounter bears, motor running. We've a pal who's fished Alaska multiple times. I heard her say just the other day, " I'm used to fishing with bears." Indeed she is!
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| Slash & shred |
Hardly comparable, but we've fished with bears on more than 1 occasion. I'm not used to the idea! I can happily report no bear has eyeball-to-eyeball scared the bejeezus outta' me - yet. Once, we even fished/camped with a bear trap prominently parked in the middle of our extended campsite and while the implication may have been lost on the (spoiled) bears, it was not lost on me! One maurader rumaged the truckbed, leaving a telltale mark on a piece of my shredded personal gear. Looked like this photo.... Somewhat disconcerting, as we slept in hammocks the night before.
Armed with my vast experience, it's my observation, regardless of size, a bear running away from me is small; a bear running towards me, regardless of size, is BIG! On second thought, Donna's right, they're all big.
© Marian Tallon, September, 2012
*geology.com, News and Information About Geology. "Utah Lakes, Rivers and Water Resources". Accesed September 21, 2012, available online at
http://geology.com/lakes-rivers-water/utah.shtml
