It’s been a warm and dry winter out here in Utah this year to say the least. Last year, I was hunting powder day in and out in March. This year, I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to get a change of scenery. For the past couple of weeks I’d been dabbling on the Weber and Provo and getting the itch to get out to the more remote streams that make fishing in Utah so great. Daylight savings time hit, the days instantly got longer, and it was time to pack the car and get away with the lady and the dogs.
Bandito was pretty excited to be on the road
Ever since Eagle Point opened up last year, I’ve been wanting to go. Being only three hours from Salt Lake City, it makes it the perfect distance for a weekend getaway.
Wide open highways and 80mph speed limits make for a quick drive
To get up to the mountains, you have to drive through Beaver and with a billboard like that you have to find a local restaurant to give the water a try. Right off the main road we found a diner that had been in existence since the mid 1900’s and I understood why as soon as I drank the best damn water I’d ever had.
The food was pretty delicious as wellAfter breakfast it was time to get up into the mountainsBoardin' the pointSnowcat instead of chairlifts? Fuck YeaUnhappy puppies
I’ll keep my banter on the riding to a minimum since this is a fishing blog; but the resort was empty, the weather was perfect for untouched spring-time groomers, the service was awesome, pets are allowed, the condo was really nice, and the Outpost Grill needs a special shout out. The brand new lodge had a great mountain atmosphere with excellent food and drinks.
Day two, was fishing day. I’m never one to give up my locations, but if you know the area or looked at a map you probably could figure out the stream we fished. A lot of the river was still iced over, but the lower sections of the canyon opened up nicely for some great pocket water.
One of many zones throughout the canyon
I think we hit up the zone in the canyon a little bit too early in the day because the fishing was a little slow. I almost had to forgo this entry because of a skunking, but after we went into town to refuel the vehicle we found a section on the stream about one or two thousand feet lower where the fish were quite active and more that willing to take the fly.
Walk of shameZone 2
As soon as we saw the stream we saw fish rising to a BWO hatch that was going off. The only problem with fishing tiny flies in the wind is when you’re blind you can’t see the fly. I tried my luck with some size twenties to start, but every hook set was a little late. After this I tied on a size 16 Renegade with a size 18 Zebra Midge below. The fish weren’t going for the top fly, but they sure were excited about the dropper. No trophies were pulled out of the water on this journey, but it sure was nice to get out there.
Tala examining the catch
The itch to get back to Southern Utah to fish has been reignited as I am finishing up this post. To everyone out there, keep on hunting for that tug.
Sometimes you catch the fish, other times the fish catches you. That was the mighty Green River this past weekend. Like always, I have wanted to get back to the Green since the second we pulled the boat of the water. Storms blow in fast in the fall and the weather is always unpredictable. However, we’ve been having an Indian summer out in Utah lately and when Wednesday came around and the weather was looking prime for the weekend we decided to make it happen.
When Saturday morning came around, I heard a knock on my window just before 4. Fuck, that’s when we were supposed to leave. Seven minutes later I was dressed and in the drivers seat of the Toaster with the drift boat behind me. We even managed to arrive at Trout Creek Flies ahead of schedule. Good thing I forgot to procrastinate this time around and packed the boat the night before.
Sun up on the C
The B and C sections of the Green are my favorite for the lack of people and the size of the fish so naturally that is what we floated. I was thinking that we would be fishing streamers since the browns are gearing up for the spawn, but the fish were still taking down terrestrials aggressively so that is what we stuck to. Fat rainbows on the B, probably from eating all those hoppers throughout the summer.
There aren’t any pictures to go along with this story because my dog ate my camera a few months ago and you don’t stack paper when you only work two days a week and fish the other five. Kyle had a camera when we launched the boat, but waded a little bit too deep without one of those waterproof ones. Strike one.
Speaking of shit hitting the fan, my dog saw Ted’s dog swimming in the water and decided to take a dive in to say hello. In the process snapped the 7 weight Ted was kind enough to let me borrow since I’ve been getting real good at breaking rods this summer. Strike two.
The second day was a slow start for me thanks to a little bit too much booze cruisin’ the day before. I started out hucking some meat with the Sex Dungeon and a Sasquatch. A couple of fish tried to roll it, but none were willing to take the bait. I switched back to a cinnamon ant and a rainbow warrior dropper that seemed to be working rather well the day before and instantly felt the tug of a small brown. Next cast, the rude boys started acting up. Soon after Kyle and I were switching between oarsman and fisherman and I threw my bag of flies on the front seat and managed to snap my second fly rod of the trip that was not mine. Strike three. Shit. Good thing I have a boat, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have any more fishing buddies.
Luckily, these rods come with warranties and I was packing a spare for Kyle to use. I kept on fishing with the seven weight with a broken tip, but it is what it is. Like usual, Swallow Canyon boat ramp came up too soon. After two days on the Green you just want more. Hopefully, there will be at least one more trip out there this year. Oh yea, the ride home went down smooth, without any fuck ups on my part.
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