The Trout Zone

Sunday, December 01, 2024

Annual Fall Camping Trip in the Smokies: 2024 Version

Every year, I try to make it over to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park outside of work for a fun trip. As a Great Smoky Mountains fly fishing guide, I need these occasional retreats to stay excited about my home waters. That usually means camping for 2-3 nights and fishing hard for a couple of days. This year, I planned the usual trip, but as the day of the trip drew closer, the weather was looking iffy. After deciding to NOT chicken out, I made the drive over to Smokemont Campground midday on Sunday, and got my tent set up before the rain set in too much. It was sprinkling while I put it up, but thankfully never got serious.

After the tent went up, I was ready to hit the water for a couple of hours before getting a good night's rest. I put together my current all-round favorite rod, a 10' 3 weight Orvis Recon. That rod is literally a do it all workhorse for me. I cast heavy nymph rigs, dry flies, and jig streamers with that rod. Being a little stiffer than most "nymphing" rods, it isn't the best for beginners looking to dry fly fish because you don't feel the rod load like you might with a softer rod, but it can handle anything you throw at it with a little practice.

First Day Streamer Fishing for Quality Brown Trout

With the clouds and rain lingering, I decided to fish for pre-spawn brown trout with streamers. This time of year, brown trout are getting ready for the fall dance, and while I don't advocate for or recommend fishing to spawning fish, both pre- and post-spawn fish are hungry and looking for a meal. Streamers are a good way to pick up some of these aggressive fish.

I decided to stay close to camp and headed down to some favorite pools nearby. After working through the first run and missing a couple of small fish, I started to hope that the good weather conditions were going to offset the very low water from our ongoing drought conditions. Sure enough, the second pool I jumped into worked out in a big way.

A long flat with a fast run at the head attracted my attention. I've often seen some big fish spawn in the back of that flat, and while I wasn't interested in looking for spawning fish, I was interested in fish that had either already spawned or were preparing to spawn but still looking for that last meal. The fast run at the head of the flat provided a perfect ambush spot. A large boulder on the far bank caused the current to sweep back towards meal while simultaneously providing a perfect spot for a brown trout to hide and wait for a hapless baitfish to swim by.

My first cast was almost too far and fell on top of a submerged boulder just below the primary boulder. I raised my rod to jig the streamer and it got whacked as soon as it fell off the boulder into deeper water. The fish gave several solid runs and head shakes, so I knew it was the typically "average" Smokies fish. Sure enough, moments later I slid a solid 15" pre-spawn female into my big Brodin net. I carefully cradled her in the water while getting a closeup or two. She was not too far off from hopefully producing the next generation, so I was careful to not squeeze under her belly. It isn't too hard to accidentally strip eggs or milt from these fish this time of year, so always play it safe and keep them in the water.

After soaking in the moment and being thankful for my ability to spend time in such a special place, I worked up to the next pool. Here, I found several large brown trout glued to the bottom. Knowing that a switch to a nymph setup would probably yield a fish or two, I instead decided to work the streamer with an all or nothing mindset. Sure enough, in the swift water at the head of the pool, a big dark shadow chased my streamer and did everything but eat. Several more fruitless casts convinced me that the fish had indeed spooked. Oh well, on to the next spot.

I was feeling lazy at this point with one nice fish already landed, so I walked well upstream to some more easy to access pools. In one of my favorites, another high point of this trip would occur.

I had already missed a fish or two in a couple of small pockets on the walk up. The main pool I was working towards ended up being perfect, however. I started in the back, carefully working every bit of real estate with my jig streamer. Just as I was about to give up, I figured, "One more shot in the very head." Sure enough, the pattern was starting to crystallize. My streamer jigged once and then got slammed. This was obviously a larger fish than my first nice brown. I was hoping to maybe break 20" or better, but it wasn't quite meant to be. Still, a solid 17" brown trout in the Smokies is a fine fish any day. I got a picture or two, then continued up to look at a couple last pools before heading to camp to fix supper.

Day One Evening In Camp

Nothing particularly interesting happened in the last two holes but I did miss another fish. There is no telling how big (or not) it was. Back in camp, I put together some chili, chips, cheese, and sour cream for a nice hot meal. The rain was still holding off when my buddy and fellow fly fishing guide Pat Tully showed up. He was going to camp for one night, fish the next day, then needed to be back home.

We chatted for a while before crawling into our sleeping bags for the night. I was tired from working many long days, and fell asleep quickly. Morning came sooner than expected, but I felt rested after a night in the fresh air. After a quick breakfast, we decided to fish nearby for the day on the Oconaluftee. This proved to be a nice relaxing choice.

Day Two Fly Fishing the Oconaluftee River

Regardless of whether I am fishing for myself or guiding, spending time on the "Luftee is always a treat. The river has a nice mix of water types and sizes. We started down low looking for larger brown trout. The best we could find was in that 12-13" range and while beautiful, definitely wasn't what we had come looking for. A few other trout including some nicer stocker rainbows kept us entertained, but we wanted something more or different. Before totally giving up, we decided to just "fish through" a section of water, and a fairly length one at that.

I sometimes joke about how lazy I've become as an angler. This is probably a by-product of being on the water every day, but when I'm fishing for myself, I just don't put as much effort as I used to. Note that this does not extend to my "work" fishing. I still try as hard as ever to put people on fish, but I think part of it for me is just the joy of being out there, and catching fish has truly become secondary to the overall experience for me personally. Some of it may just be the residual exhaustion of having little ones at home. Either way, this was all best illustrated during this fishing session.

Pat and I were working up that section of water and decided to skip a section with the goal of getting even higher up the stream. In the process of walking up, we ended up on a high bank looking down in a great run that always looks super fishy. Sure enough, I quickly spotted a big fish. Maybe not a true monster, but no one in their right mind would scoff at a two foot long or better brown trout. This fish was laying deep in back of the run, probably at least 4 feet deep. Two or three other fish that were very nice in their own right sat just below. Fish were clearly staging for the upcoming spawn, and these fish were waiting for better water or weather conditions to move up and do their thing.

The funny thing about the lazy part (which you might have guessed was coming) is that when I told Pat he was welcome to fish for those fish, he declined and we both decided to walk away from close to a sure thing. I can't say for certain that we would have caught those fish, but they were exactly the kind of fish that we can usually get to eat something. Since I had spotted them first, they were technically "my fish." When I offered them to Pat, I was kind of hoping he would slide down that steep bank and catch them. Once he declined, it quickly became obvious that we were out for something more than a 24" brown.

Moments like that leave me wondering just how big a fish needs to be for me to really go out of my way these days. Hopefully I'll have a reason to find out sometime soon, but it wasn't meant to be on this particular trip. In hindsight, I probably should have fished for those fish, but I was more interested in seeing what else might be happening. So, in the end, I'm left realizing that while I don't fish as hard as I used to, it is also the curiosity that keeps driving me on. I'm often willing to walk away from the known quantity in fishing to see what else might be.

When we got to the end of that section without finding anymore monsters, it motivated us to try something a little different which proved to be just the right call.

Tenkara Fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains

For the last several months at least and maybe longer, Pat and I have been talking about doing some Tenkara fishing. While it is something that I do both for personal fishing and guiding/work fishing, it was new for him. When we got back to our vehicles and I mentioned that I had a couple Tenkara rods with me, Pat was all for it. Something new and at the same time something instructional was a good idea. As guides, we are always trying to add to our repertoire of offerings, and I've been telling Pat for a while that he should work on being able to guide Tenkara anglers. While I don't run a ton of Tenkara only trips, it happens often enough that we could use at least one more guide who can offer Tenkara trips also.

We headed upstream to where the river gets smaller, fitting in perfectly with my philosophy on the best application for this method. One section of pocket water in particular just happened to be a favorite of both of ours. I pulled out rods and showed Pat how to rig up. Once we got it all together, I showed him the nuances of casting a Tenkara rod compared to a "regular" fly rod. In the process, I found our first Tenkara fish of the day. This fish was my favorite of the day, because it came on the Tenkara rod instead of my usual fly rod.

Tenkara caught brown trout on the Oconaluftee River

Pat took over from there and soon we were taking turns every other fish. One of the best moments came a short distance upstream when Pat found a gorgeous brown trout of his own. This fish fought like a tiger on the light Tenkara rod and Pat was left grinning with a new found appreciation for the "glorified cane pole fishing" methods we were using.

Close up of a Smoky mountain brown trout on Tenkara

Shortly after that nice brown, we finished up our day. I wanted to kick around closer to camp a little and Pat was heading back home that evening. So, we went our separate ways.

Day Two Evening In Camp

After Pat left, I went down to check on another favorite section of water close to camp. I ended up calling it quits with some daylight still left. I had covered a lot of water that day and my legs were getting tired. I've finally learned that bad things like falls usually happen when I'm getting tired, and I'm no longer too proud to call it a day.

Back in camp, I was glad that I had called it. The evening was cooling down rapidly, and I wanted to get my supper and evening chores done before it got too cold. My warm sleeping bag was already calling to me. After a warm supper and a little time to relax in camp, I crawled into my sleeping bag and was soon asleep. Having little ones at home means that I have to take advantage of the opportunity to get extra sleep when it comes around. I took full advantage that night, going to bed shortly after dark and sleeping soundly until day break.

Day Three Fly Fishing Noland Creek

I didn't know it that morning, but this would be my last day of fishing on this trip. The plan that day was for one of my other guides, Chris Bean, to join me to explore up Noland Creek. I've been slowly working my way up that stream and was ready to fish a "new" to me section. Chris hadn't done much there, so he was ready to explore as well.

He got there in a timely manner, and I was still eating my granola, yogurt, pecans, and banana breakfast. It wasn't long before I was ready, however, and we headed out of the campground and west towards Bryson City. One of my favorite little mountain towns, I didn't spend much time there on this trip, but it is always a good time driving through on my way to one of the local trout streams.

For this trip, it was hard to pass the turn to Deep Creek, but we made ourselves stick to the plan and continued on down the Road To Nowhere (AKA Lakeshore Drive). There were already a couple of vehicles at the Noland Creek trailhead, but there was no sign of them anywhere as we geared up and hiked in. By the time we got to a good starting point, the sun was starting to work down in to the stream bottom and warm things up.

It didn't take long to start finding fish. I didn't know if the cool night was going to be a problem, but it turned out that fish were active more or less from the get go that morning. That said, there was a noticeable surge in activity during the warmest part of the afternoon before it abruptly started shutting down as the shadows lengthened towards the end of the day. This time of year, with the low sun angle, that starts much earlier than people think.

In between that first fish and moment activity started slowing down, we found a respectable number of fish without really catching enough to get bored with it. We had to work just hard enough to keep things enjoyable and even caught a few on dry flies. In between, we had lots of good conversation while leap frogging our way upstream. Often, we would each take one side of the stream and take turns fishing depending on which side had the best angle on any given spot.

While we didn't find anything particularly noteworthy from a fishing standpoint beyond the standard Smoky Mountain rainbows, I did find some extensive hog sign. One area looked like it had been rototilled while another couple of spots had very obvious and recently utilized wallows. I always hate to see the widespread damage caused by these invasive pests.

We were having a great time fishing, but as the sun dropped and the bite abruptly started to shut down, we both agreed that getting out at a reasonable time was best. Making good time on the way out, I started to contemplate my own warm house and soft bed. Moreover, I was missing the family back home. When we got back to camp, I made up my mind to tear down camp as fast as I could and head home.

Originally, I was supposed to stay another night and fish a little more the next day before heading home. However, priorities have a way of shifting in life. I was more than satisfied with the wonderful getaway and fishing but was raring to get back home. And just like that, yet another fishing trip drew to a close. Chris and I caravanned over the hill back to the TN side in the waning light of a November evening. Shortly after exiting the Park with it getting dark, I called to surprise my family with news of my early return. Thankfully they were glad to get me back.

Trip Wrap Up

It had been another successful trip. While my measure of success has shifted a TON over the years, I had seen some new water (super high on the list of things that I consider making a trip successful), caught fish, spent time with friends, and even made a new fishing friend back in camp. It had been an excellent trip, and I'll look forward to doing it again next year.

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Bubbles

It has been a while since I've shared some tips to up your fly fishing game. While reading is helpful, it doesn't replace in-person coaching via a guided experience. I'm glad to help with that as well, of course. However, sometimes figuring things out at least a little on your own brings joy to the journey. If you need just a little guidance to steer your fishing in more productive directions, this blog post is for you.

While dead drifting (or otherwise) our flies on mountain streams and even larger rivers, we are normally looking for current seams. These changes in current speed (and sometimes even direction) are usually where trout like to hang out, mostly for obvious reasons. They can sit on the "slow" side, expending much less energy than if they sit on the "fast" side. When food drifts by, the fish can dart out, grab it, then go back to a more or less resting position. This is just part of very basic theory on reading water, something most of you have already heard many times.

The thing that has occurred to me recently is that very few people can recognize bubbles, or more accurately, bubble lines. Bubbles are often the best place to fish on a mountain stream. The slower the bubbles are moving, the better, especially if they coincide with deeper water. People also don't recognize back eddies.

Most people look at current tongues, and while that isn't wrong, the focus is often on less productive portions of those current tongues. The heart of the current tongue will hold fish, sometimes even a lot of fish. However, the edges, precisely where those bubbles are, will generally hold a lot more fish.

Now, when I say bubbles, I probably should clarify a bit. What I often refer to as bubble lines on our trout streams are probably more like foam bubble lines. The bubbles are often small bits of foam that are floating along down the edges of the heavier currents. Most current tongues have at least one dominant foam/bubble line on one side or the other, but most have one on each side. The foam bubbles are generally white here in the Smokies. On tailwaters, this time of year in particular, they can take on a dirty white color sometimes even tinged with yellows or browns. In the mountains, that can also happen as more and more leaves fall in the streams, turning everything into a natural tea.

Sometimes, these foam bubbles are swept into back eddies. These almost stationary foam bubbles that slowly swirl in a circle can be some of the very best spots...if there is decent depth. Brook trout in particular like eddies, but both rainbows and browns will utilize them also.

Bubbles are probably most important in the transition seasons. Trout in the spring and fall are more likely to be in locations with intermediate water speeds. In the heat of summer, go ahead and throw your fly right in that fast current. In the winter, you better be fishing the slowest and deepest portions of a pool, at least if water temperatures are cold. But in spring and fall, fish will be transitioning between these two water types, and bubble lines will show you the way to the fish.

Along with those bubble lines, look for buckets. What I mean by a bucket is a small to medium sized depression on the bottom that is deeper than all the surrounding water. If there is a nice sized pocket with good current throughout with an obvious bubble line on both sides, the side that also features a bucket with the bubble line directly overhead will have nearly all of the fish in the pool. If the pool lacks a bucket, go for the deeper side, even if the current is uniform.

All of this isn't to say that fish won't be on the shallow side or that fish won't also live in places other than those buckets, but that type of water will usually hold more and better fish than some of the more marginal water. In other words, if you throw 10 casts in a pool, put 7 on the better side and 3 on the less likely side.

Finally, all of this is well and good, but won't do you any good if you don't get out on the water. I hope these tips help, but the best teacher is simply putting in your time on the water. Get out there and fish!

Here are some examples of the bubbles I was referring to...

Rainbow trout caught in a bubble line in the Smokies

Sunday, September 15, 2024

The Wyoming Saga: A Bonus Fly Fishing the North Platte River

Most fly fishing trips have at minimum a general itinerary. If there are guided trips involved, then it is likely a very specific itinerary out of necessity. As a long time fly fishing guide myself, I know how busy guides get, and there is no room for last minute schedule adjustments for most trips even if conditions aren't optimal. That's one thing that makes guides good at what they do if they stay in the business: they have learned to put fish in the net no matter the conditions.

Since our Wyoming trip was completely self guided, we had more flexibility. So, when the first phase of our trip was cut short, we had more wiggle room than anticipated. That ended up being the best decision we made the entire trip for so many reasons. The top two reasons being the incredible winds that would have been miserable to fight all day at high altitude, and the epic experience we had on the famed North Platte River.

Planning a North Platte Fly Fishing Trip

Most things I do in life are researched far too much. Every little facet is explored. This extends to most of my fishing excursions. Since we weren't planning to fish the North Platte River originally, there wasn't time for a thorough study of the fishing situation. So, after packing camp quickly on a cool frosty morning, we drove into town where we enjoyed yet another great breakfast (seriously, we ate there several times and it was excellent every time) at the Heart and Soul Cafe.

Over breakfast, we were both glued to our cellphones more than usual. I was catching up on business each time I had cell signal, but this time we were both researching the North Platte. I was leaning towards heading to the Miracle Mile if for no other reason than I had always wanted to see it and we were close by. The Grey Reef section was another I had heard plenty about, but was mostly boat fishing with limited wade access. I was close to convincing John when he came across some info on an overlooked little tailwater section of the river. It had the added benefit of being a little closer to a good route out of the state (i.e., less gravel road driving). After some debate back and forth, we decided to hit the less famous section. Little did we know what was ahead of us.

Camping Near the North Platte River

There are lots of places to camp near the North Platte River. This particular little tailwater we wanted to fish had a place to camp just upstream on the reservoir above. We hoped it would have some open sites. We needn't have worried. There were very few people around when we arrived.

On the way, I had done a bit more research. Apparently the section we were heading to had a nice meadow section where we would likely spend most of our time along with a wild and rugged canyon section just below. The canyon was notorious for rattlesnakes and mostly best left to rock climbers, or so said the info I could find.

When we arrived, we drove down to look at the river before making a commitment. The hordes of large trout we spotted quickly convinced us to stay. Up to the campground we went to set up camp. My camping gear was a little damp because I put the tent away with dew and frost on it. Thankfully, the intense western sun and low humidity fixed that in about 2 minutes. Another 5 minutes later and my tent was up and ready for sleeping pad, bag, and pillow. That took another 5 minutes. Soon, we were piling back into the truck for a quick evening fishing trip.

24 Hours of Fly Fishing on the North Platte

Normally, when I fish a new river, not only do a research every possible fishing scenario and location, I also plan for several days to learn the new piece of water sufficiently well. On this particular fishing location, we had 24 hours to unlock the secrets of the stream we were fishing. There wasn't a lot of info available online, just the type of scenario that suggests the fishing could be pretty good.

When we got down to the stream, both of us started to treat the little tailwater like the technical piece of water that it was. I was fishing dry/dropper with one of my favorite midges on the bottom. John was stalking some risers that were working steadily. The water looked incredible, but we could tell that our work was cut out for us. I think both of us caught a small wild trout or two, but nothing to write home about. It was looking like we were down to our last day of fishing and needed solutions fast.

Stars Over Wyoming

That night, I decided to stay up a little more than I had been on this trip. I'm normally quick to bed on fishing trips to rebuild my energy for the next day. This had been a trip with some long days of fishing, and I was getting tired. That's always a sign of a good trip, but I really wanted some night sky pictures. Starting at camp and ending my session right down at the water's edge on the big reservoir, I took pictures for much longer than I intended. I also saw a Starlink satellite array go by. It was pretty wild since I didn't know what I was seeing at the time. Thankfully, it was aliens, so I continued my photography and eventually headed back up the hill to camp for a good night's sleep. Here are some pictures from that session.

Milky Way Reflecting on Pathfinder Reservoir

Cracking the Code on the North Platte

The next morning dawned bright, normal for what is nearly desert in central Wyoming. It is sunny more often than not, so come prepared to take precautions for sunburn. When the sun doesn't get you, the wind will. Wyoming is notorious for wind. We were fortunate to have relatively mild winds during this portion of our trip, but it still gusted from time to time.

We quickly drove down the hill to the stream. John took off for the water while I ate a quick breakfast. I'm a breakfast guy for sure and don't function well without it. I don't need anything fancy, just some calories to get my on my way. Soon, I joined John on the stream and found a big trico hatch coming off. John was in his element. If there is one thing John likes more than anything in fly fishing, it is sight fishing to big fish with dry flies.

Moving around the stream, we headed for a spot where we had found several giant fish the day before. Sure enough, they were feeding hard. I made myself the goal of catching the first big fish I had spotted the evening before. The tricos helped and soon I was making drift after drift over a monster. Eventually, my fly came through just right, the fish made a mistake, and I was hooked up to a rocket on 6x. Things went haywire pretty quick, and I was soon staring at the spot the fish used to break my tippet. Oh well, on to the next fish. The hatch wouldn't last forever.

Despite several big fish hooked, we just didn't land any of the monsters. Huge weed beds, boulders and other obstructions made landing these big tailwater fish a challenge for sure. Still, we were honing in on the right flies, presentations, and where the fish held in the stream.

Working our way slowly downstream, we jumped from run to run. At one likely bend, John made the cast of the trip to a fish working on the far bank over some fast water. The fly had about a 6 inch lane to land in. The fast water between him and the fish meant the drift was nearly impossible. With a slack line presentation and a perfect angle, he got just the right drift and the big fish ate. That fish stayed hooked up a little longer than my big fish higher up the stream, but the result was eventually the same. Tiny hooks, light tippets, and lots of cover were a big challenge.

Monsters Found on the North Platte River

As we neared the end of the meadow section, the dark canyon beckoned. I was starting to think about lunch and didn't want to get into good fishing only to get interrupted by hunger. After a quick trek to the truck for sustenance, we headed down for an afternoon in the upper canyon. Remembering the warnings about rattlesnakes, I was moving slow and really watching my step. If you've followed my blog any length of time, you know how snakes seem to find me (or do I find them?). I'm not paranoid exactly, but I am more cautious than most at this point in life.

It didn't take long in the canyon to start finding fish. My favorite midge pattern was soon accounting for lots of big rainbows. John found a great cuttbow on one as well. These canyon fish mostly didn't have the huge weed beds to burrow into that had caused us so much trouble upstream. Still, giant boulders and innumerable smaller rocks made landing them a challenge.

John's big canyon rainbow was one of the most memorable fish of the afternoon. He was fishing in the first nice pocket where we saw a lot of fish. I had already caught a fish or two, and wanted to get him in on the action. After getting in position, it didn't take him long to hook up. The fish went crazy and was soon well downstream. Due to the nature of the canyon, it was almost impossible to follow with the fly rod. I quickly climbed up the rocks, ran around, and dropped in below John. The hook popped free before I reached the fish, but with a last second lunge, I got the big Brodin ghost net under the fish and scooped before it could race to safety.

Here are some of the fish we caught in that spot in the canyon.

Fly Fishing the North Platte Rainbow Trout

John's big rainbow trout caught fly fishing on the North Platte River

My Trophy Brown Trout on the North Platte River

We were catching just enough to keep us interested and focused. Both of us caught some big rainbows, but there was still the thought in the back of my head that we could be doing better.

The canyon was so rugged that John was content to stop there at the mouth and enjoy that pool. I wanted to explore, so downstream I went. The landscape reminded me of a much smaller version of the Bear Trap Canyon that I had fished with my friend Bryan Allison in Montana several years ago. There, he had taught me the art of jigging for big trout. After fishing my way downstream several pools with my midge nymphing setup with only limited luck, I decided it was time for a change. I pulled my favorite jig streamer out of my pack, beefed up my tippet significantly, and started probing the depths. The fish went wild for it.

Big rocky canyons with tons of undercut boulders are perfect for this technique. My 10' 3 weight Orvis Recon was the ideal tool for the job. Soon, I was moving more big fish than I had seen the entire time on this river. A couple of big rainbows later, I started moving back upstream towards where I had left John. The day was growing late and it was time to start thinking about winding things up.

Trophy North Platte River Rainbow Trout caught while fly fishing

In one particular spot, I had waded under the base of a high cliff through water where I couldn't really see bottom. By some careful maneuvering, I had managed to avoid slipping into the seemingly bottomless holes between the boulders. On my upstream journey, I again carefully threaded my way through this section, leaning against the cliff face for extra balance and support. The pool alongside was a good one, and I worked the jig through the different likely holding spots. Finding nothing, I continued upstream.

Just above the pool, a massive pile of boulders nearly blocked the entire river. Water was running under and around the huge rocks. A small pocket that I nearly overlooked called for a quick cast as I walked by. A huge dark shadow shot out from under one of the boulders and swiped at my streamer but missed.

Shaking, I settled down to really work the spot. This was the fish I was looking for, I was sure of it.
The next cast produced nothing, then I through a little further left, right on the current seam. One jig with my rod tip, and something big grabbed the fly. I had been catching rainbows including some big ones, and immediately I thought that this could be the biggest rainbow I had ever hooked. It was pulling like a freight train.

The fish ran downstream into the pool with the cliff face and wrapped me around a boulder on the far side of the current. As it rolled to the surface downstream of the rock, the distinct butter yellow sides nearly made me lose my mind. At this moment, I was certain I would lose the fish. Not only was it wrapped around the rock, I had the sketchy deep water below the cliff to navigate while also not losing the big brown trout if I wanted any chance of landing him.

Plunging in, I somehow stumbled through the deep water without getting too wet. My waders might have gotten a splash or two over the top, but I was so locked in that I didn't notice. Emerging on the bottom side of the cliff, I got my rod up and the line slid off of the offending rock. Certain the fish was gone, you can imagine my surprise when the line was still tight. The fish made a run for the next big boulder pile downstream, but at this point I started really cranking to put an end to the fight. The 3x tippet held up, and soon one of the nicest brown trout I've ever landed slid into my net.

Now, I have caught larger brown trout, but maybe none more impressive once you factor in the big jaw and the coloration. This fish was already preparing for the upcoming spawn which was a month or month and a half away, and I was lucky to have crossed paths with him. After some quick pictures, I let this gorgeous buck brown slide back into his pool. At that moment, I was done fishing. That was the fish of the trip, hands down. Heart still beating, I carefully, climbed, maneuvered, and hiked my way back up to John.

Big Trophy Brown Trout caught fly fishing on the North Platte River

After telling him about my fish, I suggested that I would probably head back up. I didn't know if I would even cast any more after this fish.

John's Big Cuttbow

Before heading up, I glanced back in the first good pool that John had been fishing and saw a couple of big fish. I told John to not give up yet, because there were still some monsters working the pool. After telling him about the jig I was using, he decided to give it a try. I moved up on top of some boulders to act as a spotter.

John started fishing to a dark smudge that kept appearing in some faster water. We weren't really sure what it was, and when John finally hooked the fish, we had some problems. The fast water and a strong fish were a recipe for minimal success, but somehow John guided the fish towards where I had jumped down with my net. Soon, we had another memorable fish in the net. The heavy tippet we used for the jig streamer made landing these hot fish possible.

Nice cuttbow on the North Platte River Fly Fishing in Wyoming

After that fish, John was also ready for some different scenery, and the meadow water was calling him back up. Before long, we were slowly climbing our way out of the boulder strewn pocket water, keeping an eye out for rattlesnakes, and eventually emerged back into the brilliantly lit meadow. Late afternoon sun was slanting in just above the ridge line and lit up the entire meadow in brilliant hues of orange.

Last Fish Encore

The rest of the trip was anticlimactic. We found a pool or two open that had been continuously occupied since we had arrived on this stream. My curiosity got the best of me, and I went ahead and rerigged
for midge fishing. That was a good decision, because I had one more memorable fish to catch.

The last big rainbow and final fish of the trip for me hit in a piece of faster water and came to the net in golden late day light. It was the perfect ending to a very memorable trip. John kindly snapped a couple of pictures for me. Ever since, I've been dreaming about how to get back to the North Platte. It was certainly good to me, and I still want to see the Miracle Mile...