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. 

Colorado 2022 Day Five: A Wonderful Afternoon on a Favorite Meadow Stream

One of the best afternoon's of the whole trip snuck up on me. That is, I really didn't expect it or see it coming. Some of the best adventures are unplanned, however. The trick is to take advantage of those small kindnesses that sometimes happen. I am still full of gratitude over this particular one, because my wife took on the exhausting task of wrangling a toddler while I lazied around and fished. But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Morning Routine in Camp at Timber Creek Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park

The day dawned cold but bright. With frost everywhere and air temperatures around freezing, we weren't dying to sit around eating breakfast, but when the little one wakes up, we all wake up. So, we began what became a morning routine for the next couple of days. Get up, drive around to see the sights and look for wildlife, then have breakfast. This isn't absolutely necessary if you have a high cold tolerance, but we just weren't used to cold weather yet. 

Because Timber Creek Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park lies at the base of a mountain range, the sun is blocked for the first hours of daylight and camp remains shaded. As soon as the sun peaks over the ridge, things warm up quickly. The trick for us was to stay busy until the sun crested the ridge. Then we were warm enough to fix breakfast and not freeze ourselves or the toddler.

Our driving was partly to look for wildlife and partly to look for fall colors. We had attempted to time our trip late enough to have some decent colors, but early enough that it wouldn't be too frigid. In the end, we won some and lost some. More on that later, but let's say for now that we would have gladly traded cold mornings for warm sunny afternoons later in the trip.

A fun part of our daily routine that we didn't see coming was washing the dishes. Let me explain a little more. I don't know about you, but I never get excited about washing dishes in freezing cold water at a little dishwashing station behind the restroom in National Park Service campgrounds. It is a necessary annoyance to an otherwise great time, of course, but a little hot water would make things much more enjoyable. What made dishwashing fun here was the little table next to the sink. It had a lower shelf that was perfect for a toddler exploring. In fact, the little one enjoyed dishwashing enough to make up for any discomfort the rest of us experienced.

The other fun part of this camp in general was the wild raspberries. These had been introduced to little bit on a previous day's hike and she LOVED them. I can't say I blame her. The only downside here is that there weren't enough left to go around. She was happy to eat as many as Ma Ma and Da Da could find. We had to keep a close eye on her, however, to make sure she didn't sample any and every red colored berry or seed pod.

By the time things had really warmed and we had played some around camp, it was time to make some decisions on what to do that day. We had one or two hikes that we wanted to accomplish while camping at Timber Creek, but had already decided that the next day was a hiking day. That was when my wife gave me an amazing opportunity. She would drop me off at one access point, drive a short distance up the road, and let the little one explore and play and otherwise move around while I fished my way up the meadow to meet them.

We made one small error in the planning process. Knowing that a toddler might not want to look at historical buildings for too long, we decided that if they got bored and didn't see me, then they should drive back down to the start point and start walking the meadow to look for me. Thankfully they didn't get that far, but it would prove to be a small problem. 

The Afternoon Fly Fishing the North Fork of the Colorado River in Kawuneeche Valley

I was heading in to a favorite piece of water, albeit one I hadn't fished in probably 10 years or close to it. This stream is every bit as good as the more famous meadow stream on the other side of the mountain, or maybe I should say more fished meadow stream on the other side of the mountain. This stream is famous enough as the headwaters of one of the most famous rivers in the country. It just happens to be farther from major population centers than the stream I fished earlier on this trip.

This meadow stream winds through an amazingly beautiful valley. Wildlife abounds with elk and moose both likely. As you maneuver your way through the occasional evergreen thickets, watch out for these big critters. You also need to watch out for random holes in the stream bank as is the case on most meadow streams. 

I started hustling out of the gate, er, car door. I wanted to see a long stretch of meadow and only had 2-3 hours at best. Traveling light, I had my rod, a spool of tippet, a small cup of my favorite flies for late summer meadow streams, and scissor forceps. That's it. I hiked upstream to one of my favorite runs and started there. Per the usual, I spooked a couple of nice browns from the tailout. This was a good reminder to slow down just enough as to not alert the browns to my presence.

The first fish didn't take long. But as usual with fishing slow meadow water with my favorite fly and method, I missed a lot more than I caught. Still, I was seeing, and catching, enough fish to keep me both entertained and focused. Thus, when I had a big brown rush the fly, I was ready with a hard hookset. Nothing. I didn't even feel the fish. Maybe I misjudged and the fish never ate. Who knows. Needless to say, I wanted to go back in the worst way, but it just wasn't meant to be.

Continuing up river, I found nice fish after nice fish. The largest was a heavy female that was in the mid to high teens lengthwise. The two or three big fish I saw never quite found the hook. At least one of them was really big, as in, the kind you dream about. But that was what keeps me going back to these meadow streams. Seeing a brown blur rocket out from under the slightest undercut bank never gets old.

Reminder To Fish The Whole Spot

One of my favorite fish was also a good reminder for an old lesson. Never give up until you fish the WHOLE spot. All the way to the top. I was coming into a picture perfect bend. Undercut banks farther bank in the run looked fishy but didn't produce. I kept moving up to the top. Finally, I through to what I thought was the top, close to some downed wood. Nothing. 

When you fish through a perfect pool and don't catch anything or even see anything, it always leaves you wondering what if. With the technique I was employing, fish usually react from great distances, so if I'm in the neighborhood, I usually feel confident that I'm close enough. Still, I apparently had missed something here. Moving up another step, I sent a final cast above the drop into the pool. Immediately, a fish that apparently had its noise literally on the drop-off came rocketing up from the bottom to nail the fly. Never mind that I had placed a cast probably 1.5-2 feet behind it and PLENTY close enough to get its attention. That fish wasn't moving unless the fly was where it wanted it.

Finishing My Fishing 

After that fish, I realized I was seriously running low on time and needed to start hustling. I still tossed my flies in a spot or two, but mostly my trip was running down. That point was reinforced when I thought I saw our car drive slowly by on the road. If Mama and the Baby were looking for me, then I was probably running a little late. I waved and otherwise tried to get their attention, but I also knew I was dressed to blend in. It was time to just move. Hoping they would drive back up the road to look again, I started really hustling. 

By the time I hit an official "trail" at the next access point, I found that I had cut it even closer than I intended. The fields were "closed" at 5:00 pm due to the elk rut that was ongoing. I was a few minutes over, but thankfully the ranger driving by didn't seem to mind. I hustled out to the parking lot only to discover no ride. That wasn't a problem. I just started walking down the road back towards my start point. Eventually I saw a familiar car come driving towards me and they pulled over so I could jump in. 

It had been a glorious afternoon of fishing, one of the last nice warm days of our trip although I didn't know that at the time. I can't say I got enough meadow stream fishing, but then it is better to leave wanting more than to exhaust yourself entirely. Meadow streams are always a huge treat, mostly because I just don't have this water type here in Tennessee. I love guiding and fishing on my home tailwaters and the streams in the Smokies, but seeing different water types is always fun. 

Colorado 2022 Day Three: Rain, Sight Seeing at Sprague Lake, and Fishing the Big Thompson in Moraine Park

While this was only our third full day in Colorado, a theme would begin to emerge that would eventually really become a serious problem. Rain. Still, we were early enough into our trip that we weren't concerned, other than trying to figure out how to keep the little one entertained and happy. There was plenty of time for the weather to return to the clear sunny days with seasonably warm temperatures we were hoping for. 

Morning In Camp

Thankfully, our morning started out pleasant enough. The clouds were spilling over the divide, suggesting that the majority of Trail Ridge Road was probably socked in with fog, clouds, and perhaps even rain. Still, some early sun slanted in to camp and warmed things just enough that a light jacket was all we needed. 

Little bit enjoyed exploring around camp a little more than she had been able to thus far. We examined rocks, sticks, flowers, and of course any wild critters brave enough to stick around. This meant mostly small things like birds, chipmunks, and ground squirrels. While these smaller versions of the pictures don't do the scene justice, one of my favorite pictures from this day was of her interacting with a group of magpies. 

"Black-billed Magpie at Moraine Park Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park" 2022 David Knapp Photography

We had been walking slowly down the road from our campsite, learning to identify flowers and other goodies, when this flock of magpies flew in. Notorious for foraging anywhere people have been dropping things, these birds were constantly around the campground along with the jays. In other words, when getting ready to eat, we had to keep a close eye on both the little rodents (chipmunks, etc) and also the sky for potential robbers. The little one began walking slowly towards the nearest bird. Ultimately, she got much closer than I would ever have been able to before they finally flew off. It is amazing to me how wild critters seem to know that small children are not a threat. 

"Approaching a Black-billed Magpie" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

"Taking Flight" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Back at our campsite, we also enjoyed some other wild critters. These little guys were pretty bold, but not so bold as at some future campsites. Still, we had to keep a general eye on them to make sure they didn't get in our car, tent, or food.

"Chipmunk" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

"Golden Mantled Ground Squirrel" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Nap Time and Lunch

Not long after this exploring episode, light rain began to move in. Not wanting to all get chilled down and sick this early in our trip, we decided some car time might be appropriate. After driving clear across the country, this wasn't the plan little bit wanted to hear about. However, with assurances of some interesting things to see, she relented to a drive. We had some ulterior motives as it was about nap time. A longer drive seemed appropriate, so we set off up the Old Fall River Road. That was quite the experience in our small Toyota Corolla. The potholes and ruts were worse than I remembered, but of course it had been a long time ago. 

We hit fog and clouds partway up, so there were NO views to be had up high. Eventually, we made it to the top and started driving back down towards camp on Trail Ridge Road. The fog was impressive, but we were glad to have additional days ahead of us to return and enjoy the views that were absent on this day. Thankfully, light rain and fog seemed the perfect recipe to help the little one sleep. 

Eventually, we headed in to Estes Park were I wanted to enjoy some pizza that I remembered being excellent. Poppy's Pizza and Grill still had some great offerings. The hot pizza was way better than trying to picnic out in the cold rain. 

Fly Fishing the Big Thompson in Moraine Park

After a delicious lunch, we needed to figure out how to kill some time in the afternoon. One of the big treats for me on trips out west involves fishing water types that I don't have back home here in Tennessee. At the very top of my list of places to experience on these trips is meadow streams that contain brown trout. Not only do these meadow streams provide ideal habitat for one of my favorite fish, but they contain structure that is very different from our mountain streams and lowland tailwaters here in Tennessee. Undercut banks are a joy to fish, so I was hoping to hit at least two streams in Rocky Mountain National Park that contained this type of water.

Both the Big Thompson River flowing through Moraine Park and the headwaters of the Colorado River in Kawuneeche Valley offer meandering meadow sections with undercut banks. Both of these streams are chock full of wild brown trout along with the occasional brook trout among other possible species. My target is brown trout, of course. 

My preferred method to fish these streams involves looking for reaction bites from the resident trout. While my tactics are a bit unusual, the results are normally stellar. On this rainy day, I knew that my usual techniques were not necessarily perfect, but sometimes you just want to fish how you want to fish. 

As it turns out, with the weather that was moving in and out, I would have been better off with a light rod and some blue-winged olive imitations. I started off well enough, catching several fine brown trout on my unorthodox methods. However, once the bugs started, the fish really just wanted the little olives and I started wishing I had brought more flies with me. The large flies I was using still picked up the occasional fish, but I also knew I was missing a lot of fish.

"Big Thompson River in Moraine Park brown trout" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Two bend pools in particular convinced me that my methods were about through for the day. I saw the first couple of rises as I crept up towards the pool. By the time I was in position, 4-5 fish were rising steadily and my large fly briefly put them down. However, the draw of so much food soon brought them back up. They were rising amongst the splashes from my larger fly, simultaneously dodging my offerings while also feeding on the natural olives. The next pool was even crazier with 8-10 fish rising. 

"Big Thompson River in Moraine Park Meadow Stream" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

I had already fished about an hour and the rain was starting again, so I decided it was time to head back to the car. The family had been out enjoying the meadow as well, but with the rain starting, they had already started back. It was in everyone's best interest to call it on fishing this day. I had found a few great fish before the hatch really got going. Time to head on to the next adventure...

Sprague Lake Scenery and Brook Trout

With a steady drizzle setting in, we didn't want to head back to camp yet. Our only option there for staying dry was to crawl into our small tent. It was way too early in the day to do that. So we turned the car towards Sprague Lake on the Bear Lake Road. I remembered something from a previous trip I hoped would still be accurate.

When we arrived, the rain had eased off to just some very light mist. With a full winter snowsuit to put on the little one and rain coats for ourselves, we decided to brave the weather for a few minutes. I grabbed my camera, hoping my memory was accurate. 

"Foggy Day at Sprague Lake" ©2022 David Knapp Photography

Sure enough. In the inlet stream to Sprague Lake were numerous large brook trout. They were there to spawn, and while I wasn't interested in targeting these fish with a fly rod, I was interested in getting some neat pictures if possible. I generally recommend leaving spawning fish alone from an angling perspective. While I won't get into all the reasons here, let's just say that a camera feels a lot more sporting. Here are a couple of the better shots I got.

©2022 David Knapp Photography

©2022 David Knapp Photography

It didn't take long for the drizzle to start again. We decided to head back to camp and get supper early. A huge benefit of our particular campsite were the thick pine trees growing over our picnic table area. They were keeping a large portion of our table dry, so we were able to enjoy supper while staying dry. With everything so damp, we headed to bed early. The next day was moving day and we needed some energy! We hoped for clear skies and moderating temperatures on the morrow...