The Wyoming Saga: Fly Fishing the Green River For Days

After getting a small taste that first evening in camp, I was excited to really explore this new to me section of the Green River. Having read about this incredible fishery, I knew it had some serious potential. Only time would reveal some of the secrets held by this fine trout stream.

The interesting thing about this trip is that it helped me make significant strides forward as both an angler and a guide, at least in one way. Even as long as I've been fishing, I still learn a TON every single year. In fact, the longer I fish and learn the more I realize how little I actually know. Still, each bit of knowledge adds up to enough information to be dangerous. I'll return to this idea a bit later. For now, let's dive right into the Green River.

Day One Fly Fishing the Green River in Wyoming

The cool morning had us up and out of our sleeping bags and in the warm truck as soon as the sun came up. It was frosty, and neither of us were prepared mentally for that I think. Still, the warm truck got us excited while the cool morning kept us driving all the way to Green River Lakes. After a quick look around, we drove a short distance back downstream to a spot we had passed on the way up. A nice high vantage point quickly gave us the opportunity to spot several very large trout. Even better, a light hatch was coming off, apparently a few tricos and some blue-winged olives. 

"John fishing a picture perfect pool." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

We quickly rigged up. The warm sun had things downright comfortable at this point, and we were soon casting to rising fish. I say fish instead of trout, because we would learn some interesting things about this rise in subsequent days. For now, we assumed we were only casting at trout and our success affirmed that perspective. Several quality trout and some much larger fish missed later, the hatch petered out.

"What appears to be a little western BWO (attenella) but I'm not certain." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

"My best day one rainbow trout on the Green River." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

Trying to extend the morning, I switched to a nymph rig and managed one hard pulling native, a whitefish. The big brown trout I had originally spotted in the pool eventually eased away in all the commotion, and finally we decided it was time to move. I'm not much of a stationary angler, and we had already fished that one pool very hard. It was time to cover water. 

"Whitefish!" ©2023 David Knapp Photography

Moving downstream in the truck, we found several other great spots to fish. To be fair, aren't they all? My favorite section was a piece of beautiful meadow water that reminded me of some of my favorite brown trout streams across the west. My favorite rig was put together for that scenario (top secret, sorry!) and I caught a few fish including a nicer brown trout. By this point, lunch had come and gone and the day was winding down. 

"Green River brown trout." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

We wanted to fish that water back in camp again, so we headed back for a relaxed evening of supper and fishing at camp. A few fish were caught, but nothing noteworthy, and it was time to get some sleep in preparation for another big day the next day. 

Day Two Fly Fishing the Green River in Wyoming

On our second day on the Green River, we wanted to hit some of the incredible meandering meadow sections that we had passed going up the valley on our first day. Undercut bends went on for seemingly miles. John's truck could pretty much go anywhere we wanted to, so there weren't really any limitations on accessibility. We finally settled on a section that had those big sweeping bends that look so fishy. 

"Parked to fish the Green River in Wyoming." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

While I didn't have any particular big goals for the Green River, John was locked in on fishing big dry flies. I was experimenting with various methods and flies and catching a few here in there, but John persevered with some big foam and was ultimately rewarded with our best fish of the day by far. It was an incredible eat that happened after he had seen a rise on the far bank. The fly had to be within inches of the bank, and a great cast got it in the feeding lane. A big slurp, a great hook set, then some serious side pressure as the fish dove for cover all worked to get the big rainbow trout out in the open. 

I happened to be close by at the moment and helped with the net while also witnessing the eat. It was an incredible sequence and was our first really nice fish of the trip. It got us excited to keep fishing hard for a few more days. I eventually caught a few on dry flies as well, so it was an exciting day.

"Hopper caught rainbow on the Green River!" ©2023 David Knapp Photography

It was on this second day that I made an interesting discovery that would lead to my enlightenment. John's big rainbow kept us focused to work all the way through a long section centered on where we had parked the truck. We were getting close to turning around when a particularly deep bend pool caught my attention, mostly because of the high bank above it that allowed me a good view of the stream. 

We covered a lot of water, but this pool in particular had me intrigued. We fished our way through and on up until we ran into some other anglers before turning around. On the way back down, I wanted to look at that one pool again. Sure enough, when I climbed up high for a view, I saw some big dark shadows. By this time we were starting to recognize whitefish versus trout and the majority of these big shadows (quite a few actually) were big brown trout for the most part. I didn't have one big "Ah Ha" moment, but the wheels started turning. 

Following Days Fly Fishing the Green River in Wyoming

The next few days were more of the same with a town trip or two thrown in for good measure. We also made the long run down to the first big tailwater on the Green below Fontenelle Reservoir. Unfortunately, water temperatures there were significantly elevated near 70 degrees, so that adventure ended up as a bust. 

On one particularly relaxing day, we ran up to the same pool we fished on our first day. It was cloudy with a threat of rain, and the bugs poured off. It was just exactly as you imagined and dreamed of. The only problem was that we didn't see as many of the big fish as we had on our first day. Then we noticed even more rises down in the heart of the pool. I had caught one nice brook trout and John and got a fish or two, but overall we felt like there was an opportunity to do much better if we could just crack the code.

"Reflections on the Green River." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

"Brook trout from the Green River in Wyoming." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

"Brook trout are gorgeous." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

The possibility of something amazing convinced us to cross the stream and drop down the far bank. The fish were rising hard and good dry fly fishing has to be enjoyed whenever possible. It took a while to hook that first fish, and I don't really remember which of us did that. What I do remember is that it was a whitefish. Okay, no problem, there are lots of other rises, so on to the next one. 

After we had each caught several whitefish, it began to dawn on both of us that maybe, just maybe, all of these podded up fish were whitefish. Dry fly fishing is exciting no matter what, and I recalled a story in one of John   books about fishing on the Madison for rising whitefish. Still, they were whitefish and not trout. Both of us were there for trout, rightly or wrongly. Eventually, we tore ourselves away from the still voracious feeding and went looking for other options.

One section had more gradient than much of the valley and appealed to me because it looked more like the water I was used to back home in the Smokies. We made a point to fish through the heavier pocket water, runs, and fast pools and caught a lot of nice fish on nymphs. Nothing noteworthy, mind you, but still a good time.

"Faster water on the Green River." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

It was at the end of that section that both of us realized that the ongoing cloudy weather could produce a good evening hatch back at camp. We headed back intent on taking advantage of another opportunity to fish the camp pool. It turned out to be the right call. 

The Camp Pool 

That evening, we got a little burst of late sunshine. That was just what we needed to trigger that evening hatch. Bugs started to pop as the sun sank lower over the western hills. Fish started rising, slowly at first, then more and more. It was a difficult pool to fish. Apparently all the fish were well aware of the camp and the fact that pressure almost always came from that side of the river. Thus, the best rises were right in the far current or across it along the far bank and structure. It required long accurate casts, stack mends or similar for slack, and maybe even a reach cast.

We both downsized to 6x tippet for the small bugs that were hatching. A spinner fall started and the fish went from the occasional rise to a feeding frenzy in minutes. We took turns every other fish. The best spot was towards the middle and back of the pool and the long casts required meant you couldn't fish too close to each other.

Both of us lost several flies to some rather large fish that made quick work of our 6x. John finally got the eat of the evening on a long cast to the far bank. He got just the right mend, fed a little slack into the drift, then the fly was sipped by an athletic rainbow trout. While not the largest fish of our trip, it was easily one of the most memorable. It was one of those moments that burns into your memory and will bring me back to fish that same pool again someday. The light was fading fast when John landed that fine rainbow trout. We gave a few more casts out of general principle, but it was clear that the rise was just about done. 

"Do you see the spinner in the trout's mouth?" ©2023 David Knapp Photography

Back To the Brown Trout Pool on the Green River in Wyoming

On our last day on the Green, we weren't certain that it would even be the last day. Our trip still had several days, but because we had gotten ahead of schedule by cutting our backpacking short, we had some wiggle room. The North Platte had come up in conversation and we were learning towards starting back towards home with a stop at the North Platte along the way. However, I had one place I wanted to revisit: the brown trout pool we had discovered on our second day fishing the Green River.

Something else had happened between our first discovery and our final visit. We had noticed a Subaru with rod racks making the rounds of the valley just like us. They had Wyoming tags and at least appeared to maybe be local. One day, as we were passing by, we noticed them pulled off at this particular location and scrambling in a beeline down the hillside to fish that pool. That was my second clue that this pool was a special place. 

I had also had time to reflect on many of the streams I have fished closer to home. It was occurring to me, slowly but surely, that brown trout will stack up in a handful of spots prior to the spawn and often much earlier than most people realized. I know quite a few places where they will be congregating by sometime in July, both here in Tennessee and out west. My suspicious were growing that in just a few days on this new to me stream, we had stumbled onto one of these extra special spots full of big fish. The spawn was still plenty far enough away that we could fish for them in good conscience.

The day was cloudy, perfect for chasing brown trout. The roads were seriously messy. The deep mud was slick and I was thankful we were in John's truck. When we got to our spot, we eased down a side road and parked out of the way. The made driving down seemed extra slick. When we got out of the truck, we realized it wasn't just a little slick, it was like greased ice. Oh well, we were here now. 

My fishing pack was reorganized for this final day on the Green. I had switched out some fly boxes and was fully prepared for targeting big browns podded up in deep water. A quick glance from above confirmed that they were still there. I also saw one of the biggest shadows gliding around that I've seen in a long time. A fish in the 15+ pound class and over 30 inches was just one of the monsters in this pool. Unfortunately, it soon disappeared and never made an appearance again. The other quality fish were still there waiting for us though.

We started working the pool with deep nymph rigs and plenty of weight. I cycled through my favorite flies for brown trout in this particular scenario. Eventually, we started getting some eats. Some were big whitefish, but some were quality brown trout. The biggest fish eluded us, giving me some major incentive to return to this spot someday, but we found some great fish. Fittingly, our fish of the trip on the Green River came on our last day which is as it should be.

"John's nice brown trout." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

 

"My quality Green River brown trout." Photo courtesy of John Bates ©2023

At some point while fishing that pool, the light became some of the most dramatic of the whole trip. Dark clouds in the background framed the brilliant foreground, lit up by the late season sun. It provided the perfect setting for fishing this great pool. 

"Contrasting light." ©2023 David Knapp Photography

By the time both of us had caught a quality brown trout or two, our minds were going back to the truck. We had a steep hillside to get back up and the slick mud had us slightly concerned. While we could have fished that pool for the rest of the day, neither of us wanted to be stuck for the night. Working on getting ourselves out of the potential predicament and hitting some water with better access to round out our day seemed like the thing to do. 

Finishing Our Green River Adventure in Wyoming

We hiked up the hill to the truck and got everything put away. Then it was time for the moment of truth. John fired up the truck and started backing up the hill. That initial part wasn't too bad, and despite some slipping and sliding, he was soon on the final short section approaching the main road. This was where things got really sketchy.

John already had the truck in 4WD. That part was mandatory just to get back up to where we were. The next part would challenge the off road credentials of this truck. I won't drag this part out other than to say that before all was said and done, we were using crawl control, driving through fields, bouncing over rocks, and by some miracle eventually cresting the rise back onto the main rode. The truck was already super dirty, so it wasn't obvious from appearances that we had been through quite the adventure getting back on the road. Thankfully, that is what these trucks are made for.

Cruising back down the main (also dirt, but better) road, we agreed on one thing in particular: the rest of our fishing that day would be in spots where we didn't risk getting stuck. It had been a close call. That actually took us to some neat spots, but it was clear that our trip was winding down. Everything that I wanted to explore had been explore, but checking a new river off my list sounded good. 

That evening in camp, we discussed our options and decided to make the drive over to the North Platte. We didn't even know where on the North Platte. That would be determined the next day with some cell service in town and our old friend Google. We got as much ready to travel as possible that evening, then hit crawled into our tents for one last night with the Green lulling us to sleep as it chattered away behind camp. Little did we dream that the best was yet to come...

Eclipse and Fly Fishing the White River for #BigBrownTrout

Some trips are spontaneous, but most are the result of plenty of planning. After the last solar eclipse I experienced all the way back in 2017, I knew that any and all solar eclipses in the future would require my best effort to see them. In 2017, I had the luxury of having the path of totality crossing my home county. We enjoyed the show without much effort, but the awe inducing experience convinced me that it was worth almost any amount of effort to see again. 

Fast forward to 2023 and my life looks just a little different. I'm still a fly fishing guide, but now I'm married, have a kid, and any trip plans have to be made well in advance or else my guide calendar is full. When I saw that a solar eclipse was on the calendar for early April of 2024, I immediately started making plans. With my lovely wife on board, we decided to visit Arkansas. Since I had never fished the White River, a trip to Mountain Home or vicinity seemed in order. Time to see the eclipse and fish the White all in one trip...it doesn't get any better!

As the day for departure approached, I started getting everything ready that I could. Fishing gear was checked and checked again. Tents were dug out of the gear closet along with sleeping pads, bags, camp cookstoves, oh, and of course camera gear for the eclipse. Our first night's camping reservation started on Sunday, April 7. As things have become with a toddler in our lives, we didn't leave Crossville until MUCH later than ideal. 

At least a little of this also had to do with booking myself right up to our trip. I keep telling myself to block a day or two off before and after each trip, but so far I keep falling for the same mistake of working right up until vacation starts. I spent all Sunday morning packing the car while my wife wrangled the little one. Finally, we more or less had everything ready to go. Off we headed on our big adventure, excited to see what fun we could have. 

Not far down the road, we realized that in all the excitement, lunch time had snuck up on us. Pre toddler, we probably would have either just snacked or grabbed something and kept driving, but having a little one changes how you do things. A longer than necessary stop ensued 45 minutes into our trip. The silver lining was that a full belly and nap time provided us with an hour or so of quiet. 

Eventually, after many changed diapers and pit stops, we finally made it to our campsite in the middle of the night. Okay, it was probably actually around 10:00 pm, but it felt like 3 am. Thankfully, with the big eclipse the next day, we could sleep in, relax, and otherwise take it easy. 

The question surrounding the eclipse was all about whether we would be able to see it. During the 2017 eclipse, some very last minute racing around the country side got us into position to see totality. With lots of large cumulus clouds around, it almost didn't happen. Home court advantage served us well on that adventure because we knew exactly where to go. For our Arkansas adventure and 2024 eclipse, we really needed good weather. By some miracle or stroke of good fortune, we had bright, sunny skies. Much of Arkansas was cloudy on April 8, but the area we had travelled to was blessed with low humidity and minimal cloud cover. 

Around lunch time, the eclipse started. Little Bit was more interested in playing away on the playground next to our campsite, but I relished the opportunity to enjoy yet another eclipse. This time, I had better camera gear than I did the last time around. Of course, you always want something better, but I was happy with how my pictures of totality turned out. Here are just a few.

©2024 David Knapp Photography

©2024 David Knapp Photography

©2024 David Knapp Photography

Of course, no trip to Bull Shoals would be complete without fly fishing the legendary White River. Large predatory brown trout are what the White River is especially noted for, and I hoped to connect with a few. A friend and client of mine had recommended guide Taylor Wooten of Flippin Fly Guides. I decided that instead of dragging my own boat out or trying to wade fish, it would make a LOT more sense to fish with a guide who knew the river, had the right kind of boat, and could put me on fish. As a guide myself, I know that guides have a better pulse on their home waters than just about anyone else and generally know the best way to catch fish at any given time.

Monday afternoon, Taylor and I chatted on the phone to formulate a game plan, and then he texted me with a meeting spot for the next morning. We would be fishing where almost all the other guides were fishing which was on the Norfork River with perhaps a little time spent on the White near the confluence with the Norfork. There was a reason the guides were all on the Norfork. The fishing there was on fire compared to the White. As with most any fishing location, flows drive fishing choices on the White River system. The big river had been tough with seasonally low flows, but the Norfork was running just the right amount of water for great fishing. 

Taylor was about as gracious as any guide I've met. He knew I really wanted to fish the White, so we kicked around a little there after meeting up Tuesday morning. Even better, he put me on several big brown trout. I always half joke with people that I'm a better guide than angler, and the results that day proved why it is only a halfway joke. I missed several big fish including one that I would really like to have back. But, I finally connected on my first White River brown which taped out at 19". From there, the trip just got better and better. 

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

After we kicked around on the White for a short time, we motored up the Norfork. Taylor graciously took me all the way up to the dam so I could see it and get some pictures. The rest of the day was a mix of nymphing and streamer fishing. I was glad to catch some nice strong rainbows that pulled as well as any I've caught. Eventually, the water started dropping out and we started heading back down the river. A few more nice brown trout interacted with my streamer but I never could seal the deal. 

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

©2024 David Knapp Photography

©2024 David Knapp Photography

As we slid into the takeout ramp, we checked the forecast for both weather and flows the next day. Things were looking wet, but there was a small bump of water in the morning on the White. Taylor graciously agreed to take me up to Bull Shoals dam the next morning even though he assured me that fishing hadn't been great up there as of late. I wasn't as worried about good fishing as most clients and more just wanted to see that part of the river system. 

The next morning, the day dawned cloudy and dark. The threat of rain seemed very real and I was prepared for the worst. When we launched, a quick run up the river got us to the base of Bull Shoals dam, or at least as close as you are allowed to get. One thing that was interesting to me was that you weren't supposed to approach too closely to the dam. Here in Tennessee, we regularly get right up to the base of the dam on the Caney Fork River to fish the outflow from the turbines. However, there were very prominent signs everywhere prohibiting boaters from approaching the dam too closely. We went right up to the line and then started floating back down.

©2024 David Knapp Photography

Streamers were the plan for the day. I still don't know how my arm held up, but I tossed my 8 weight Echo Streamer X (an absolutely incredible line of rods designed specifically for streamer fishing) almost the entire day. Taylor had some secret flies and we were ready to hunt. While I had a couple of half hearted follows up near the dam, Taylor was 100% accurate in his assessment of the current fishing up near the dam. It was pretty slow. While the temptation was strong to just hang around and fish that area regardless of the success rates, we started drifting on down the river.

Before long, we got side tracked. More accurately, Taylor let me side track us. We saw several pods of midging fish in a backwater, and I got excited. Midge fishing is just my game, so we stopped for a bit while I rigged up something for these fish. After a few stocker rainbows, it was apparent that I would get pulled in deeper and deeper by the occasional monster cruising around. If we wanted to stick to our plans, we needed to make a move and keep on streamer fishing.

Another move down river was in order, and before long, I was slinging the streamer rod again. The midge fishing interlude was just what I needed to get me going. As we approached a big shoal, Taylor gave me some directions as well as info about the water we were about to cover.

As the boat drifted down the bank, he started to point me to specific structure to target. The first good log produced a very large brown that I straight up missed. There were several fish that ate the streamer that I missed on this trip, and this was one of the better ones. Taylor saw that I was going to stew about missing the fish instead of getting back in the game and quickly pointed out the next log. I slung the fly and gave a strip. What happened next was one of the coolest eats I have ever seen on a streamer. 

A large brown trout came up and rolled all the way over the top of the streamer. From the casting deck on Taylor's Supreme, it was easy for me to see the whole thing unfold. The fish missed the fly entirely on the first pass and by some miracle I didn't pull the fly out of the strike zone. The fish came down, swam downstream right on the bottom of the river, and after getting below the fly, came up to attack it again. This time, it nailed the fly and I got a legit strip set. We were off to the races and soon had the big brown trout in the net. After pulling over and getting pictures, it was time to try again. 

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

We moved another fish or two, but it became apparent that the water was dropping out. Taylor made the decision to start a series of big moves down river. Each move was made with the goal of reaching another shoal that had good flow and lots of structure that the brown trout liked to hide in. Each shoal also had lots of fish. I continued to have some opportunities, some larger than others, but the second big fish was eluding me. 

Finally, it all came together again in a particularly fast piece of water where a strong run swept tight to the right bank. This was another very nice fish over 20" with absolutely beautiful dark pumpkin colors. 

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

From there, we kept moving down the river and hitting different spots all the way to Cotter. Amazingly, one of the coolest fish happened right above a particularly famous and picturesque bridge that is recognizable to many people who love the White. It wasn't the biggest fish of the trip, but it provided a neat photo op right before we started a long run back up the river to where we had launched. With rain again threatening, we hurried back up river and got out before the rain arrived. 

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

Photo Courtesy of Taylor Wooten ©2024

That night was soggy. Our tent was soaked the next morning, but thankfully very little rain made it inside. One door had just a little bit of water under the zipper where the seal wasn't the best, but otherwise we stayed warm and dry. Our original plan had been to do some hiking that day, and then head home the next day. However, the forecast was calling for very chilly weather that next night. With lows down near 40 degrees, we knew it was going to be cold. We had already been a little on the cool side camping, but really hadn't prepared well for lows down to 40 on this particular trip. 

With the sun coming out and a warm breezy day commencing, the thought of getting home a little early and having extra time to decompress and recover from our trip appealed. Once the tent dried out, we started breaking down camp and packing the car for the drive back home. We got a late start due to everything being soaked early that morning, but it was nice to get back home and start to recover from yet another excellent vacation.

I finally added another river to my list, one that I have long wanted to fish. Now I know why so many people love the White as much as they do. I'll be back as soon as possible. There are lots of other exciting possibilities on this river, from spring caddis and sulfur hatches, to late summer terrestrial fishing, to shad kill opportunities in the winter. The White River offers so much trout water and the possibility of a fish of a lifetime at any given moment. If you need a good guide for this river, I highly recommend that you check with Taylor Wooten of Flippin Fly Guides. He knows the river as well as anyone and works harder than most to put you on fish. 

Autumn Getaway

Don't ever become a guide so you can fish more. If you've never heard that saying before, now you have. As a guide, you are on the water every day, fishing in a sense. You just aren't actually holding the rod. In many ways, you actually become a better angler by not fishing all the time, because you spend all day describing how to do it right. On the other hand, it would assumedly be easy to lose the passion if you're doing something every day. That is one thing for which I count myself very fortunate. I still love both my job (guiding) and fishing on my days off. Still, I have to find some way to keep things interesting. If I've already floated the Caney Fork River 75 times for the calendar year, I probably won't float the exact same section doing the exact same thing on my off day. 

There are many solutions to keeping it interesting. Most of them revolve around pushing myself into new experiences as an angler. One is to experiment with flies and presentation, something I constantly do on my days off. On a recent guides' day off, I ripped streamers so hard all day that my stripping arm was my tired than my casting arm. Seriously. I saw some really big fish too and will be back to do it again. Another solution is to chase new species, explore new water, or fish rarely fished waters that still have that "shiny new toy" feel.

This past fall, in early October, a calendar anomaly opened up a short window to camp and fish in early October. Every year, I take a trip in early to mid November, so this was going to be a bonus trip. It is exceedingly rare that I get multiple days in a row off in October without scheduling it that way on purpose. As one of my busiest months, I tend to guide my way through my favorite time of year, with very little "me" time to go fishing for myself. And that's okay. My bank account appreciates it come the middle of January. Still, when back to back days opened up, I jumped at the opportunity. Wonder of wonders, one of my favorite campsites was available at Smokemont Campground, and it was booked just as fast as I could enter my payment information.

Shortly before the trip, I checked with some fishing buddies to see if anyone wanted to join. I've noticed that is much harder once all your fishing friends have young families, a point I'm also at. Still, I finally got one bite and we made plans to hit a favorite piece of water, albeit one I've only hit once or twice. This would be my first time through in the fall. 

We started hiking in fairly early. It was cool enough out that I kind of wanted a jacket but knew the hike would warm me up too much. So, I just trusted my long sleeves to be enough and we headed up the trail. I did wear my Patagonia ultralight wading pants that I bought several years ago. It was too warm for hiking in full chest waders, but I didn't want to get hypothermia either. These were originally bought for backpacking waders, but I occasionally wear them for non backpacking scenarios as well. They kept me from completely overheating, but I was still glad to finally step into the cool stream at the end of our hike. There is always a transition in spring and fall where wet wading is most comfortable mid and late in the day, but the morning hours are just a little on the cool side. That isn't a problem for front country trips, but when you hike in, it is a pain in the rear to carry multiple wading setups for different times of the day. So you just make do as much as possible.

When we got in the stream, I was rigged with a dry/dropper and had high expectations. With a quick rainbow and then a brown, I thought the day was about to bust wide open. Instead, however, the fish were about like what I normally expect on Deep Creek. In other words, they would eat if you did everything just right, but any misstep or bad cast sent them running. The ultra low water didn't help. The ongoing drought conditions in the area had flows even lower than usual for an already dry time of year. Still, we found just enough fish to keep things interesting. Then, finally, as the day warmed a little, the fish really started to turn on.

A high overcast delayed the best bite later than we had expected, but things eventually got going. At this point, we were both catching fish. Dry flies and nymphs were both producing. Eventually, some streamers were even tossed to great effect. It was one of those magical days in the mountains. The autumn colors while not quite peak, were good enough to add significant value to the trip for me.

A couple of the rainbows were more memorable than the rest. While all fish are beautiful, some just stick out in my memory for one reason or another. The first one that really caught my attention had nothing to do with size. In fact, it was on the smaller end of the spectrum for the day. The neat thing about this fish was how dark it was. Occasionally, I catch fish that are super dark. Invariable, and this fish was no exception, they come out of very dark holes or from underneath rocks. I have edited this picture to actually lighten things up a little if that tells you anything. 

The other memorable rainbow was a big surprise because it ate the dry fly. Not that fish on dries is surprising, of course, but when you've caught the vast majority of fish on the dropper for hours, and then a quality fish slurps the dry, it surprises you each time. The fish fought very well, but upon landing it, I can't say with 100% confidence that it is a wild fish. It might be, of course, and that is even likely. However, the line between stocked and wild on this drainage is hazy at best. Most of the fish are small enough and vibrant enough to tell, but with larger fish, I definitely start to have some questions. 

Late in the trip, as we were getting ready to hike out, we found some nicer fish. Not the true monsters that we knew inhabited the stream, but solid brown trout that would make anyone's day. Then, just after catching back to back brown trout, I found one more gorgeous rainbow trout on a dry fly. Talk about a perfect ending to a perfect day. Nothing could beat this day in the mountains, or so I thought. 

We got out fairly late, and eventually I made it back to camp and got some supper together. I was missing my family a little and almost drove home that evening. I decided it would be foolish to take down camp just to get home near midnight. I would be much happier and feel better if I got up and headed home in the morning. Such decisions can make or break a fishing trip, I just didn't realize it at the time. After eating chili and tortillas, I hit the sack. I slept well in the cool autumn night air and woke up refreshed.

I got camp broken down quickly and had my thoughts set on home when I thought of a favorite pool nearby. Deciding that it would be silly to drive this far without fishing it, I decided for a quick stop. No more than an hour, I thought to myself. 

Wow! What an hour. In that hour, I caught several fish in the 16-19 inch range and a 22.5 inch fish as the largest of the session. It was easily my best hour long fishing experience in the Smokies for brown trout ever. Not necessarily my best day ever, but right up there in that category as well. All of which just goes to show, you don't know if you don't go. Best of all, I still got home much earlier than originally planned or anticipated. Talk about the best of both worlds!

As a guide, we are often faced with less than stellar conditions. Only rarely are things bad enough that we have to cancel a trip. On some borderline days, I'll find myself saying to the client that exact some phrase, or they'll say it to me when we decide to stick to our plans. If you aren't getting out there, you'll never know how fishing might have been. In 2024, focus on getting out more often. You never know what you might be missing out on by skipping a day on the water.

Sorry for the heavy editing on these pictures, but some of my favorite spots are pretty recognizable. I hope you'll understand that I don't want a bunch of people in "my" spot next time I'm there...

Colorado 2022: Day Thirteen, Fishing One Last Nice Day and Battling Rodents

While the overall Colorado trip was great, the end was definitely a slog. This was because the weather turned sour for an extended amount of time. I had made the mistake of bragging to my wife about how, while it might rain, it would be nice a few hours later and definitely no later than the next day. This set us up for the obvious result: days and days of dreary weather that was increasingly colder by the day. And yes, I'm still reminded about how much fun that part of the trip was. Deservedly I might add...

When we woke up, it was fairly chilly. That was to be expected. The canyon we were camping in was sheltered by high walls to the east and west. That meant the sun wouldn't hit the campsite until at least 9:30 or 10 in the morning. With the late season, we were already pushing our luck by camping, so we hoped it wouldn't snow. After sleeping late to stay warm, we finally got up and fixed breakfast. While Leah and Little Bit were busy in camp, I grabbed a rod and fished just a few steps away. The camp pool had been kind to me before, and I was hoping that might be the case now. Sure enough, a couple of good brown trout were ready to play. Nothing huge, but it got me excited by the prospects. 

Lake run fish ascend this system from the large reservoir below. Kokanee and large brown trout move up in the fall. I was hoping for both. Unfortunately, there were no signs of the salmon, and we saw very few brown trout over the next couple of days. I'll have to return another time to try again. What we did find were rainbow trout and plenty of them. 

After breakfast, we all got ready and wandered down the trail to fish. Naturally, the day progressed as one would expect. Leah caught the big fish and Little Bit got bored quickly. That meant back to camp to play and enjoy what would feel like our last glimpses of sunlight for the trip. 

As the sun dropped below the canyon walls for the day, the temperature started dropping quickly. We bundled back up, and I hit the camp pool once more. One more brown trout came to hand. While I expected to find fresh fish in this pool every day, that wasn't meant to be. This would be the last fish I would find in the camp pool, although we would find more fish downstream on future days. 

As the shadows lengthened, we started getting supper ready. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for the scope of our problems became abundantly clear. I had never had problems with mice at this campsite, but it had become obvious the night before that at least a couple of the critters were around. Not to worry, I had come prepared with lots of sticky glue traps. I had deployed them effectively around and throughout our car. When I had found two that morning, I had hoped the problem was solved. Apparently I just made them all mad. 

It got darker and darker. While we were eating supper, mice were running around everywhere. It appeared that this campground shared the fate of some of my other favorites in Colorado. I'm unclear on how these things get around, probably in people's cars. The fact remains that they are almost EVERYWHERE in Colorado now. I've had big time problems in Elevenmile Canyon and the Black Canyon. Now I can add Gateview to the list of campgrounds I'm paranoid of staying at.

The worst part about the mice (other than the fact they absolutely destroyed our car every night in all ways imaginable) was having a toddler along. In an environment that already wasn't super sanitary, trying to keep Little Bit safe from rodent borne disease suddenly became priority number one. Leah was less than thrilled about the whole deal. I deployed more sticky traps, hoping for the best. As we crawled into our tent for the night, mice were running all over. I knew we already had some in the car. I had seen them through the rear windshield. Not knowing what else to do, I finally crawled into the tent. It was too late in the day to pack up and start home, so we would spend another night and hope for the best. We had plans to stay two more nights, so time would tell how that would work out. 

Fishing Around the Brown Trout Spawn

There are tons of opinions on whether you should be fishing during the spawn. Some states solve the problem by having closed seasons for trout fishing. Many other states do not, leaving anglers to come to terms with their own set of ethics. Here in Tennessee and in the Great Smoky Mountains, we are fortunate to be able to fish year round. That helps keep the cabin fever at bay during the cold months, but also makes it important to figure out your own set of ethics when it comes to fishing or not fishing the spawn and the time periods around it. 

Often, it seems irrelevant as to whether it is "okay" to fish during the spawn or not, but a variety of factors the last few years has led to a huge decrease in the number of large trout on many area waters. From the Clinch River wild rainbows and big brown trout, to the big browns on the Caney Fork, to the wild browns in the Great Smoky Mountains, numbers of larger fish are down across the board. While the overall reasons behind that decrease may or may not be angler driven, the fact remains that we have lower numbers of fish. Thus, it is more important than ever that the fish be allowed to procreate in peace. That is the place I'm at. You may arrive at something different. That is okay, but if you want to do what's best for the fish, read on. 

Choosing to fish (or even guide) around the spawn immediately brings a new set of challenges. How do you fish water that fish are spawning in without interrupting that process? To some extent, interruptions will happen no matter how careful you are. In my opinion, other than not fishing to actively spawning fish, the most important thing you can do is to watch your step. The precious eggs, once distributed into the gravel, are vulnerable to a misstep. In fact, just once misstep could kill nearly all the eggs in one redd. Thus, you now have a couple of options. Either avoid fishing and wading altogether during the spawn, OR learn what to look for and avoid redds at all costs. 

If you choose the latter, here is what you should look for. Brown trout redds are usually depressions and accompanying mounds in the gravel in riffles and tailouts of pools. I've seen redds in all kinds of water, but most will be in the riffles and tailouts. However, the most important thing is gravel. On some streams, good spawnable (did I make up a word?!?!) gravel is hard to find. It appears easiest to learn what kind of gravel is good for spawning and simply avoid walking on all gravel that is similar. In actual practice, it is helpful to be able to identify redds and walk on gravel when possible, because gravel is often going to be your best traction in the stream.

To understand what a redd looks like, first you should understand how the redd is built. First, the female finds the perfect site for her nest. Next, she begins to fan with her tail to dig out a depression. That depression is where she will lay her eggs. Once she has prepared the nest, she lays some or all of her eggs while a dominant male delivers milt to fertilize the eggs. Then, she will move just upstream and stir the gravel again, allowing the current to filter the gravel down onto the eggs to protect them. This small mound that forms is where the actual eggs are stored. Some fish may repeat this procedure several times leaving an area well stirred up, while others may make a single redd and call it quits. This process applies to rainbows and brook trout as well. Once those eggs are laid in the gravel, it is crucial for anglers to avoid stepping on the nests. Each generation will often see a fairly low success rate, so we need every nest to stay viable if possible. 

The incubation periods can vary wildly depending on water temperatures. Long periods of 4-5 months at a constant 35 degrees Fahrenheit down to a very short 30 days at 57 degrees Fahrenheit mean that it depends on the weather and stream as to how long it takes for the eggs to hatch. In the Smokies, most of our eggs will typically hatch sometime in January into February in a normal year and depending on exactly when they were laid. For fish that spawn in late October or early November, it is possible that same hatch by early January, while late spawning fish in late November into December may not have eggs hatching until closer to March. 

Other than anglers, extreme cold and anchor ice can disrupt the viability of the spawn. Extreme flow events with high water can also disrupt the process. Finally, on our tailwaters, low dissolved oxygen is also a major limiting factor to successful brown trout spawning. 

If you have read this far, then you clearly care deeply about the health of our wild fisheries. While everyone needs to make their own decisions as to whether to fish the spawn or not, I hope you will at least be very careful as to where you walk during the fall through spring period. The health of our fisheries depends on anglers being careful. Here are several examples of brown trout redds in the Smokies from the past few weeks. Note how redds often appear as bright patches in an otherwise darker bottom. 

If you have any questions or want some better pictures, feel free to contact me using the information from the contact link above. I'm always glad to help promote the health of our fisheries.