Chucko Paradise

Tiger Trout

2009-11-23T18:56:00.000-08:00

After catching my sweetest trout to date, which ended up being a tiger trout on a mouse pattern, Derek was way excited for me. He has painted a lot in the past, but has recently gotten into painting fish. He offered to do a watercolor of the fish to help me remember it. It turned out awesome and it is now going to be a part of my fly tying desk/room for years to come. Thanks Derek!

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2009-11-23T14:15:00.001-08:00

Provo River

2009-11-22T12:23:00.000-08:00

Gotta love Provo river fly fishing. Not really. I went out yesterday solo to see if I could find one of the few big trout in the Provo, I failed. I started low on the lower section, chucking a few different things without much success. I waded up to a few holding fish and decided to switch it up a little bit so I put on a small black zebra midge I had tied up. First cast I hooked up with this little guy, skinny skinny but nice colors. Next cast I picked up a smaller fish, next cast after that (all into the same small hole) and I hooked into another fish. I think I found what the fish were wanting to eat...

As I was walking up to one of the last stretches of river I was going to fish, I saw a lot of flashes in the water. I stopped to see what was going on, and it was just one fish thrashing around without stopping. I walked up right behind it and saw that the fish had some line coming out of its mouth and the line was stuck under a small log right next to it. I grabbed the fish, grabbed the line, and busted it off. So the fish had a huge worm hook deep in its mouth (size 4 or so). The fish had flailed around so much trying to break free that the line had deeply cut into the side of its mouth. Pretty crazy, first time I've seen that. Dang chucko.

UWG Fund

2009-11-15T22:46:00.000-08:00

ACCESS AND USE FUND UTAH!

In order to preserve our rights, a fund has been started

“Donate for (Recreational) Access and Use Utah! Fund” Your support keeps ALL our gained recreational rights preserved! “

For more information visit

www.utahwaterguardians.com

Tigers, oh my!

2009-11-11T19:25:00.000-08:00

Kyle came up for the weekend to do some fishing. After coming really close to bailing out on me for Saturday, he decided he was going to stick with being a man and go fish. We met up in Heber at 3:30 a.m., nice and early. We were on the water and fishing by 5. Man it was freezing. We were tossing mice, anxiously stripping them in waiting for the loud splash to come from the dark. I was using Mike's mutant mouse. After an hour and a half with only one hookup and no other strikes, we started to get discouraged. As soon as the sun started to rise, something switched on the tigers aggression. Both Kyle and I were getting lots of action, almost every cast would produce a huge wave behind our bugs and we would strip in line just waiting for the vicious take from below. After different stripping techniques, I finally got a solid hookup with a nice fish. I landed him, we taped the fish at 23", snapped a photo and we were back at it for more.

Not long thereafter, I had an insanely aggressive strike and was able to set the hook. After landing the fish, we taped it at 24" without any tail pinching or anything, so it was DEFINITELY at least 25 3/4", Kyle. My biggest to date.

A few minutes later, Kyle hooked up with a nice tiger and landed it. He pulled out the tape to get a measurement and the fish weaseled his way out of Kyle's hands before we could get a pic. We continued to strip mice, excited as 8 year olds on Christmas Eve. The mice action slowed way down so we switched it up a little bit. We each picked up a few more fishing, with me ending with this nasty, hook-jawed tiger. Mice+tigers=fun.

Paparazzi Up in My Stuff

2009-11-02T20:06:00.000-08:00

On my birthday this year (May 21) I hooked up with a friend of a friend to do some fishing in So. Utah. His name is Scott Donaghe, California surf fly-fishing pro/photog extraordinaire. I decided it would be a lot of fun to hit a very picturesque skinny water ending in a beautiful slot canyon. The trip was awesome: great fishing and great scenery.

This morning, Nate texted me saying "you're famous." It turns out, Scott got his first photo published. It happened to be the cover of Southwest Fly Fishing and it happened to be me! Pretty awesome! Congrats Scott, hope to see some more of your stuff in mags in the future! Thanks Mike for the screenshot.

Finally

2009-09-23T21:31:00.000-07:00

It's not that I haven't been fishing lately, it's that I haven't been able to catch anything really post-worthy. I have been fishing the Provo once or twice a week for a couple of hours, and I have been catching fish, but they just weren't 'get your camera out to stop fishing' material. Today I got off work a little early and headed up to a higher stretch of the Lower Provo to give it a try. I quickly got into a decent bow on a secret fly, my first bow on the Provo and what was my biggest Provo River fish until that moment. He had a nasty battle wound on his side, pretty cool. Today was looking to be good fun.
I didn't have any luck for the next half hour or so with the rig I had set up, so I thought I would try some terrestrials. I didn't see a single fish rise the whole time I was there, but I figured the hard work would pay off if a fatty slammed a hopper or ant up top. No love. I gave up on that hope and started throwing a bugger. First cast with my black bugger and I hooked into a purdy brown.

I unhooked the brown and walked back up to where I was standing when I caught him. I casted about 6 feet further upstream from where I landed him and felt a very solid strike and set the hook. A nice fat bow jumped out of the water and I instantly got excited. The bow put up a really good fight, and after jumping around some logs to not let him escape, I landed him. Attached to this fish was a little surprise, a green caddis larvae stuck in the bow's side, evidence of a previous battle the bow had won against another fly fisherman. I took the fly out of his side and sent him on his way.

I casted my line back upstream a little bit as soon as I stood up from landing that fish, and started lowering my drag. The last fish actually was taking some line upstream so I decided to turn it up a bit. As I'm adjusting my gear I glance over at my indicator and all of the sudden it tanked... so I set the hook. I was amazed that another fish was on the end of my line, I didn't even really cast out in hopes of catching a fish or anything, it was just to get my line out from under my feet so I could re-adjust.

Sweet Revenge

2009-09-08T20:44:00.000-07:00

My first experiences (last December) with fly-fishing were not very pleasant. I started fishing in the middle of freezing winter on the Provo. I went about a dozen times and caught two little fingerlings. It was terribly cold, slow, and I was by myself all but a couple times, trying to teach myself how to fish. It was rough. My wife and I moved south to be with her family because of our new baby, and I continued to learn how to fish on small, overgrown So. Utah streams. I started seeing a lot of success and grew to love it more and more each time I went. I vowed that whenever I made it back up here to Provo, I would fish the same place I went the most and kill it. Last week I had my chance to make good on this vow.

I arrived on the river at about 3:30. I started out with a nymph rig, secret fly with a sow bug dropper. Within 5 casts I was into a fish, gobbled down the sow bug, I was excited to get the skunk off so quickly at this stretch of stream that made me want shoot myself many times. I picked up a few more on my nymph rig, swapping the sow bug for a PT after two stomach pumps showed fish FULL of mayfly (PMD) nymphs. My buddy Nate tipped me off about some fish that may be holding on a bank because of the higher flows, so I threw on a parahopper and had some good success with it. The PMD's started coming off around 5 and I saw some rising fish so I threw on a small BWO (only mayfly I had in my box, how did that happen?) and started doing really well on it. All in all, I caught a fish about every 15 minutes, nothing of good size really, though. I caught fish on 8 different flies, pretty much everything I threw on produced a fish. I am happy to report that I made good on my vow and got my long desired revenge on the Provo. I must say, however, I was really disappointed with the size of the fish. All the fish I caught seemed to be stunted. The fish pictured below was the biggest one I caught. Is it just me or is this fish's head and tail way too big for its short body? Maybe next time I go I will help out the population and keep some fish?

Muddler

2009-08-31T09:33:00.001-07:00

Kyle came up for the weekend so we met up with Dan to try to get into some fatties. We met up early and headed out to a river that Dan has fished for a long time. I'm always excited to fish new water, especially the type that is supposed to hold fat browns. We got to the first spot and after about 15 minutes Kyle was geared up and ready to fish. Things started off pretty decent, Dan got into some really nice fish, a few of which sadly came unbuttoned before he could land them. It wasn't too long and I was into my first fish on this new river.
Dan and I had a couple of fish under our belts, and Kyle had yet to hook up with anything. After missing a couple (dozen) hooksets, Dan offered to let Kyle hold one of his fish so he didn't go home empty handed. Dan is a nice guy like that.
To help Kyle hook a dang fish, I even counted down for him. He casted upstream and I counted, 5...4...3...2...1... and just after I said one, his indicator tanked. Don't worry, he missed that hookset too. Can't do any more than that for ya buddy. Dan grew up right near this river, so he knows all the money holes. He took us to a private stretch of water and we started fishing. Kyle was re-tying up his rig, which he did most of the day, so I decided to throw my bugs in just ahead of him. It wasn't long and I had this fat boy on, I was really excited, my biggest brown and biggest fish out of a river to date.

We continued to fish, and after about 6 hours Kyle finally hooked up with something other than moss. It was actually a really nice fish, and we were happy that he got that skunk off, it was stinkin' real bad. We continued to fish and got into some really nice ones. We took a dinner break and then headed to a more popular spot of the river. We only fished it for a short time, but Kyle took his necassary swim when he stepped into a hole that took him to his neck until he swam out. Hilarious.

2009-08-27T19:39:00.000-07:00

Having just moved back up to Provo, I was excited to get out and do some fishing with my old buddy Nate. Our wives got together to go on a hike and watch a bike race with the little ones, so we headed up to a nearby small stream. Nate has been fishing this skinny water pretty frequently, and it was my first time. We fished big massive meaty hoppers and had some good success. We fished on through some really good holes and made it just further than Nate had ever gone when we got the phones calls letting us know that our wives were headed home. "Ok we can only see one more stretch of water, just one more bend." We turned the corner and wow the water looked money. Fished it out and said, "We really just need to see what else is ahead, just to see." Even better water. This went on for longer than any responsible non-fisher would approve of, but Nate and I have an addiction. Literally.

The water just kept on getting better and better and the fish along with it. The biggest fish Nate (his wife, actually) had caught on this stream was 16". Nate tossed his hopper and GULP, a big fish was on. We pulled this beautiful 17" golden bellied brown out of the net, much to our delight.
Nate called his wife to let her know we would seriously honestly just be a few more minutes, serious this time, and I landed a few more fish. I had switched to a royal wulff about 1 hour 1/2 earlier... it was the first dry I saw when I opened my pack and as I tied it on I said, "I'm just throwing this on real quick because we have to go very soon." I shoulda stuck with the hopper because as soon as Nate hung up the phone he landed this beeaaautttiful 17" cutt. I'd like to think that I missed these fatties because of my small, less hearty of a meal fly. Its the only excuse I got. Even if Nate stole all the fatties, it was an awesome awesome day of fishing.

All photos taken by Natedogg himself (Flikr)

Farewell Session

2009-08-19T18:45:00.000-07:00

Kyle and I headed back to the private stretch of water I talked about in my last post. We had high hopes for some hogs on hoppers because of our last visit there just a few days ago. We arrived a bit earlier than last time and started off with some nymph rigs. It was pretty slow going, a couple of whitefish and a couple small browns. Our spirits began to sag as the day progressed and we were seeing no action on top. We had a run in with the same guy that talked to us twice about being on his property. He walked up and asked, "So is this becoming a weekly thing or what?" I replied, "No, actually I'm moving up north to Provo tomorrow (which I am) so this is me saying goodbye." We chatted politics, mutual acquaintances, etc. He is actually a really cool, nice guy. We offered to get him into some fish, and also offered to help around the ranch if he needed it. Both offers were declined and we left feeling confident that we would not be bothered, or be a bother, for the rest of the day. WRONG. Not too far upstream, a diesel truck stops on the dirt road running through the property. An elderly man, along with a younger what seemed to be ranch-hand, hopped out and walked towards us. Without a word spoken, they start throwing rocks and branches into the stream just ahead of us. I said, "Thanks." The elderly man replied, "No, thank you, get the hell out of here!" Kyle piped back, "We have every right to be here, Matt get out your camera and film these guys." Not another rock was thrown and they left without another word. I thought it was pretty childish... not a word, just throwing sticks and stones into the river. Whatever we had fish to catch. About 45 minutes and a PB&J later, the sign letting us know it was hopper time went off... a fish tried to slam my indicator. The rest is history, great fishing on hoppers all day long. Kyle managed to stay dry, and we burned about 6000 calories and our calves probably grew a solid 3/4 of an inch from the walk. Oh yeah, and I caught bow out of the stream. We talked to a guy who has fished this water a ton for 7 years and I think he said he has caught 4 bows so it was a nice unexpected treat.

Gettin' Wet

2009-08-16T16:01:00.001-07:00

Kyle, Mike and I headed up to fish a private section of a river in hopes of catching some hogs. After about 10 minutes the guy who takes care of the land for his father rolled up. He told us we were on private property, we knew that. He told us to leave. Thanks to Conaster we were legally allowed to stay in the river to enjoy of its goodness and the big fish it holds. He was a nice enough guy and I understand the frustration of having someone in your backyard, but its hard to say you own a stream or the water or the mountains it comes from. Who knows if things will stay this way in the future, but for the time being we were going to be respectful and enjoy the river, and he accepted our legal right to do so. After a couple "foul hooked whitefish", I was finally able to keep a fish on long enough to snap a photo, beauty of a 16+ brown. We waded through some deep silty river and nymphed for a little while, ducking under the occasional barbed-wire fence.

I can't remember who, but someone casted up to a nice fishy looking spot and bam! a nice sized fish tried to eat the indicator. Cha-Ching. Mike and Kyle quickly changed to hopper patterns while I believed it was a fluke and kept on my nymph rig. I was wrong. We continued up the river and started catching big fish on hoppers. When I started flyfishing a few months ago, my buddy Nate told me of the insane goodness of hopper season. I was starting to doubt it was true, never really getting any big fish on hoppers. Wrong again, hopper fishing exists and its very very fun. The landowner met up with us later and appeared very angry, thinking it was impossible for us to wade up the river so far, but he calmed down after we offered to take him to any place on the river and wade through it in front of him. We kept on fishing and kept on having a grand ole time with hoppers and brownies. Hoppers, brownies, and whitefish in Kyle's case.

Mike had to get to work, so we waded back down to our cars. We were all ready to fall down from exhaustion, and Kyle actually took a few dips in the water to 'cool off' or because of his 'slippery boots.' Either way I saved him from certain death in some quicksand earlier in the day so I was allowed to get a kick out of him falling into the drink. Mike went to work and Kyle and I headed to a small stream on a scouting adventure. We caught a couple absolutely gorgeous small fish. After we saw three snakes, however, we were ready for home.

Spook Creek

2009-08-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

Headed to one of my favorites yesterday with Steve and Tyler. Each time I go the fishing gets harder and harder. The water was very low, very slow, and very clear. The fish that were always skiddish became ridiculously spooky. I would frequently see a nice big fish-wake from a spooked fish when I was a good 100 feet downstream from it, not making an noise. It was tough fishing, and I picked up three fish really quick in the lower section which has a few fast spots, but after that it was sloooooow. I missed two after the first ones I landed, but that was it. Steve and Tyler didn't have any luck either.
A little friend on our way back downstream.
After getting our butts kicked, we decided to head downstream from where we began. We have never fished below the bridge where this stretch begins, but decided to give it a try. It's much faster, and a lot easier to fish this time of year. Within a few casts of fishing it I pulled out this little guy.

A few fish later we headed out before we became a mountain lion's dinner. This place drives me nuts. Every time I go I see some really good sized fish. I've decided I will probably not fish this stretch until the browns are spawning, but I have very high hopes for when they do.

Sucker.

2009-08-09T18:38:00.000-07:00

Take two this summer for the family trip out to lake powell. Before leaving I decided that I was going to take half a day or so and head out to Lees Ferry for the first time. I woke up nice and early and hopped on the wave runner for a ride into the marina. I had a decent distance to travel, and it was extremely stormy. I arrived at the dock soaked to the bone with no extra clothes. I got to the car, got down to my skibbies, and hung my clothes out the car windows to dry on the way over. Worked like a charm. I pulled up to the Ferry, excited as ever. I walked into the walk-in section, and began fishing. I only saw one other fisherman the whole time I was there, a spin fisherman that got skunked. I had heard that long drifts with absolutely no drag were key. I tried about every midge pattern I had, double rig, single rig, shallow, deep, uber deep. Put on some different buggers, drifted shallow, drifted deep, stripped em a little. No luck with anything. Scuds, PTs, every nymph I had, nothing. I finally ended up landing a 12" bow on an 18 black zebra midge, which was good but frustrating at the same time after 4 hours of fishing. I don't know if it was the big water, but I think it was a problem with my confidence that kept the fish away. The biggest river I've ever fished would fit width wise into the Colorado about 15 times. I was fishing near the Paria riffle when I hooked into what seemed like a FATTY. He actually was running a lot, going into the fast water, darting deep, going all over the place. I got the fish in close and then saw the ugly beast. A big fat brown sucker fish of sorts. Man what a bummer. After 5 1/2 hours and one trout, I hung my head and headed back from some water weinee action on the lake. One day I will kill that place. I'm now very interested in taking a boat up the canyon and fishing it.
The next day on the lake my nephews were in the fish-catching mood. I had yet to catch a carp on the fly rod, seems the dang things will only eat food and trash. I came up with a very clever way of landing one, which may or may not have been covering a fly with some delicious white bread. It wasn't that cheap, but in my opinion it was close... either way I had fun landing this ugly fatty. No, I'm not converted to the hardcore carp on the fly scene yet.

Tonaquint River

2009-08-03T09:10:00.001-07:00

Headed up to a nearby stream hoping to get into some nice fish. I have seen some hogs in the lower stretch of the river, and I wanted to see if I could finally trick one. This section is almost entirely on private land, and runs behind a lot of cabin/houses that are usually empty. Much to my dismay, most of the cabins had the summer residents in them. I didn't feel like getting into any fights with angry landowners, I didn't feel like breaking the law by trespassing, and I didn't feel like swimming (some parts are too deep to really wade...). After landing a few smallies and receiving more than one stank eye, I headed back to my car and drove to the upper section. I had tied up some elk hair caddis (my fourth fly tied, they aren't too great), but some same caddis in the air so I put on a brown one. I fished a decent stretch of water and caught a ton of small fish. I have fished this river a bunch and have only caught browns so I was happy to land this guy.

I was coming up to a nice riffle and saw a fish struggling in the rocks at the tail of it. I didn't see the fish swim out of the rocks it was in, so I put down my rod and stuck my hands in. After a few bobbles I nabbed this little guy, bare-hand style.

I fished up to the reservoir above the stream and decided to fish it, since I never had before. It was pretty crowded. It made me happy to have discovered fly fishing a few months ago. Every 20 seconds or so I would hear a "ZIIIIING.... PLUNKKK" as a bobber would land. Every so ofter I would overhear the wise father saying to his young children, "Patience kids, fishing is a patience sport. Just watch that bobber and if it sinks you yank the pole." Ziiiiiing, Plunk. Ziiiiiing, Plunk.

Bumpy Roads

2009-07-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

Kyle, Mike, and I headed up to the mountains late last week for a two-day fishing smorgasbord. We left before the sun came up, and after meeting up with Mike in Cedar I took my regular seat (half of my butt cheek in the back of the truck, sitting sideways) and we were off. We were stopped on the road due to some road construction, so we talked fish to the flagger. We got some fantastic info on some nice shortcuts into the lakes that we would be fishing, so we were more excited than ever, believing that our trip just got even better. We followed the directions which consisted of little more than how many cattle guards we would pass, and pulled onto the dirt road. Shortly after pulling off, we saw a big sign "CLOSED - FIRE HAZARD." In spite of the still-smoking trees ahead of us, we forged onward. After almost ariving to the end of the road and the start of our shortened hike (thanks to the kind flagger), we saw 8 or so firemen hard at work, testing the durability of their tailgates. Kyle tried to cast a Harry Potter invisibility spell on the truck, but we figured it obviously hadn't worked when the muscle of the firefighters walked towards us. "Sorry guys, the whole area is shut down, I can't let you through." Like a dagger to our hearts. After little heckling/pleading with the fireman and much internal discussion whether he really had the authority to keep us out, we pulled away to fish a nearby lake. We parked the truck after the road got too hairy to drive on, and started walking.

We were pretty stupid, we forgot the map. The trail split into 3 different directions, and we didn't follow Mr. Frost's example. After hiking for a few minutes, one of us said "I don't really imagine that there would be bears in this area." Literally no more than 50 yards later we see an orange flag and a sign.
Oops. We hiked about 1.5 miles in, but didn't see the lake we were looking for. We decided to just chalk this one up as a nice scenic hike, and headed back to the truck. When we got back we looked at the map, and we couldn't have been more than 500 yards or so away from the lake when we started the hike. Crap. Nice warm-up hike and it felt good living so dangerously by a bear lure station.

Back in the truck, we headed to the next lake series that we decided to go to on our nature hike. The road to the main lake (after driving a considerable distance to reach it) was 9 miles. We stopped at a muddy cow pond (that is probably being a little generous) and started to fish. We saw some fish rise, and the book that we had said that fish were in it. We were there only a short time, and I was ready to be done with it. I decided to cast out one more time, nice and far to the middle of the pond. I began my false casting, hauled, and as soon as I was coming forward to shoot the like a nice strong gust of wind blew the line right into me. I felt a thwwwwaaap on the back of my ear, and saw my law continue forward. Everything was nice and dandy until I realized that my little scud was stuck in my ear up to the body of the fly, and my leader had broken during this disgraceful casting. I walked over to the truck, showed Kyle the carnage, and tried to pull it out. It didn't feel good, and it didn't come out. I had Dr. Kyle try his luck, and he ripped it out of my ear. Fish barbless hooks people.

Mike gave the pond a few more minutes, and we were off. We continued up the rough road, and saw a Jeep approaching. We stopped and talked to them. The gentleman informed us the lake we were going to was "All dried up," and that we could "Wade across the entire lake." EFFFF! How could this trip get any worse, we thought. Did the twilight gods curse us for vowing to never read their books or watch their films? We decided that we might as well drive the last 2 miles up to the lake, see if there was anything to do there, and possibly just hike 1 mile to a lake nearby. We pulled up to the lake and immediately became saddened at the sight. It was extremely shallow, dirty, mossy, mucky, blacky, gucky, any -ucky word you can think of basically; anything but fishy. Mike told us that the lake curved around in the back and it may be fishable, so we hiked down the 'road.' As we came through the trees, we saw some decent water, that appeared to be boiling. We got closer and fish were popping out of the water unceassingly to gobble up delicious callibaetis (Mike knows his bugs). We all had great success on a variety of dries catching high mountain lake brookies. Kyle and Mike went to the truck to set up camp, while I was on dinner duty. These are the first fish I have kept on the fly, and Kyle and Mike rarely keep fish. We figured we would be ok keeping and eating some since they will all probably be drained out and dead in a week or two anyways. Mike makes a mean fish taco. It felt good to get back to my Chucko roots and eat some fish. Natural Born Killer as you can see in the photo.

After a welcomed bear-less night we hiked down to a nearby lake. We were all really excited to fish it because of the tigers that are in it. After some slow fishing Mike stopped a spot with a dozen fish or so fish hanging out in the shallows. Kyle and I went over to steal his fish away. I was fishing a dry because there were a ridiculous amount of callibaetis on the water with occasional fish rising. Much to my chagrin, my adams became very acquainted with a fish's mouth. After a wonderful fight, I was extremely happy with a beautiful fattie.

When the fishing slowed we headed out to the next spot. Due to much laziness, we decided not to endure the hour drive plus 3 mile hike to the next planned lake, so we headed to fish some streams. I watched Kyle and Mike kill it before we headed out at dark. This was a funny trip. Our hopes started out so high, got even higher, crashed, exploded after the crash, then everything ended up working out.

Photos courtesy of Kyle and Mike.

Haunted Mills, Grandslams and Rattlesnakes

2009-07-11T09:26:00.000-07:00

We woke up bright and early for a full day of fishing. We went to three different streams, all were new to both Kyle and I. The first place we went was a stream running below an old mill which was kind of spooky. The day started off kind of slow until Mike figured out the winning connection. By the time I could rig up, Mike had pulled four fish out of one pool. I got my setup together and Mike let me hit the next spot where I nabbed this little fatty, which ended up being my biggest of the day. We took turns fishing the holes upstream and ate some grub. Kyle, if you are going to tell us how healthy you eat, don't try to do it after slamming a butterfinger.

We drove a little ways and came to a stream that Kyle has been wanted to try for a while and that Mike has fished a lot. We were terrified of rattlesnakes because Mike kindly told us a story of him being chased by a rattlesnake there. This was a short stop en route to our next location, but we all landed some fish and had a good time.

As we pulled up to our last spot, Mike had the triple play already. He had landed a cuttie and some browns and bows. This stream is awesome; hardly fished, open, nice water, beautiful canyon. Shortly after arriving, Mike landed a nice little brookie, completing the grandslam. Well done my friend. I then made it my goal to catch a brookie because I never had before. It took me a while, but I finally did it. We fished as late as we could and hiked out of the canyon and walked down to our car. Kyle had his big toenail removed the day before, and I'm sure his toe was killing him the whole time. My feet hurt bad enough with both my toenails... he must have been dying. All in all it was a great day.

Goodbye, So Long?

2009-07-07T22:15:00.000-07:00

Because we are moving soon, I decided to go back to a stream that I fished a lot when I moved down here to St. George. I consider this as the stream that taught me the most concerning what little I know about fly-fishing so far. It can be a hellish place if you decide to go exploring through the brush, which I did a little today. I actually found a few really nice holes that I would fish again, but it was frustrating as always fighting the thorns to get to them. I ended up catching a ton of fish as usual at this skinny stream, but they were all pretty small. I will usually land a fish that is 'decent' for the stream, but not today. It was still good to get back there, it has been about 4 months since the last time I fished it. It may be a long time before I see it again...

Yes, that fish pictured was the biggest I landed. I know, I should have mounted it, I'm an idiot.

Tiger Trout

2009-06-30T18:03:00.000-07:00

The tiger trout is a sterile hybrid of a male brook trout and a female brown trout. Tiger trout have been reported to grow faster than other trout species, and have been heavily stocked as sport fish due to their aggressive nature. Although unable to spawn, the male tiger trout develops a kype on its lower jaw due to hormonal changes during traditional spawning seasons.

Pleasant Surprise

2009-06-29T15:22:00.001-07:00

Today was the first time I have been fishing with the wifey. We went to a place that is better known for hiking, but I prefer the fishing. It was a great time and it was good to show Melissa a little bit of why I'm crazy for fly-fishing. I was excited for her, she caught some fish. The first fish she landed on the fly was a bonneville cuttie inside a slot canyon, a good sized one too for such skinny water. That's my girl!

Melissa the casting master!
I caught one or two.
I love big bugs.

Alpha

2009-06-28T19:15:00.000-07:00

Last week I had the chance to get out to one of my favorite fishing spots as of late. Its a meadow stream that meanders through a grass-filled valley, the type of stream I have always imagined myself fishing since catching the fly-fishing sickness just 6 months ago. This stream is such a welcomed get away after starting fishing on the Provo river in the middle of winter, and then moving to the extremely overgrown streams that surround me now.

This was the third time I have been to this stream. The first two times produced a lot of fish, and some really good sized fish. With the runoff completed and an absence of recent rainfall, I was hoping for clear water and some nice dry action. As we walked to the creek, it seemed all my wishes had come true as we saw a fish rise. The closer we got the more fish we saw eating bugs on top, I was sure it was going to be a productive day. I began casting to 5 or 6 holding fish. They were eating bugs off top, and occasionally they would snag a sub-surface bug drifting by. The caddis in the air were thick enough to get a full lunch if I were to run with my mouth open for a minute or two, so naturally I started with an elk hair. That was followed by a goddard. That was followed by a para adams, BWO, hopper, ant, orange stimi, royal wulff, midges, streamers, and yes, even a san juan and egg. Pretty much everything I had in my bag (not much, I'm new) had been right in front of these fish. I tried changing my leader up. Nothing. No hits, just ocassional inquiries. I switched back to an elk hair and headed upstream, wishing I had a spear gun to teach those stubborn fish a lesson.

Kyle got into a few fish right after another, but between the rest of us (3 including me) no action at all. We had been fishing for a long time, and we had lost one commrade to the slow fishing. We talked about hitting another stream nearby, and I, like most people do, had to try just a few more holes. I chucked in my recently set up nymph rig (ok it was really rainbow super scent) and bam! submarined indicator. I set the hook and was relieved to have any fish on my line after a long day of struggle.
One thing I love about this stream is that the fish are fiesty as any I've seen. Even the smallest of brownies in this creek will give you some good fight, jumping a ton. I was happy to land this guy. A decent sized fish, but getting the skunk off is a very good feeling.

Right after I landed that fish, we headed to the other creek. In my opinion, it was even worse than where we were before. The water was chalky, but I didn't even seen any fish. Kyle had a good one on, and spooked another, but that was it. I know the creek can produce, our friend went there the day after us and did very well, but it just was not our day. I blame Steve and his bad fish juju. Even with slow fishing, it was a great day with great company.