Trip Report: American River

Another week and another new river to explore. This time I made the journey to Sacramento for an American river experience. After reviewing Google satellite maps and a few fishing reports, I figured a good place to start would be a street that dead ends near the river called El Manto (there is a five dollar fee to park in this lot).

When arriving at 8am, I quickly noticed that other than a police officer, there was no one else in sight. It was a Wednesday, but I did assume that there would be more people fishing. Did they know something I didn’t? Read on to find out.

Not only was I the only one around in the parking lot, I was of course the only one in that section of the river. I didn’t see anyone else for several hours. Throughout the whole day, there were only a handful of fisherman that arrived late afternoon. Not even a single boater came down the river until 5pm or later (and that was group of non-fishing kayakers).

Initially I rigged up a three fly system. (I’ve documented how I do it here on the blog.) My whole setup consisted of a floating line and a short 12 inch 20lb connected to the fly line and then the three rig was 8lb mono. No leader. The furthest fly from the rod was a modified San Juan worm with purple dubbing that I tied up on Tuesday evening, a size 10 soft hackle with golden dubbing and copper ribbing in the middle, and a size 16 winged wet fly as the third.

I’ve never been to the American before, but could easily see that it was low and clear with no trout in sight. My line was thrown in just a couple of hundred yards from my car and I moved downstream. Because of the clarity and the depth of the runs, I stuck to rippled water. I’m sure there were fish deep in the slow water holes, but I wanted to be in the current. The ripples would provide some sense of protection to the fish on this sunny morning, so I didn’t bother much with the faster smooth and shallow water except for some of the sections directly above the ripples.

This river is quite a bit different than the water I’m more familiar with. It is very wide and has little natural structure. The floor was made of extremely slippery stones about the size of baseballs and footballs, there were few large boulders in this section.

If I were equate this type of fishing to dropping ordinance on an enemy, the American would require more of a carpet bombing approach, rather than the precision of laser guided weapons that you need on smaller streams with trees, brush, and boulders diverting the water.

On the plus side, I was able to do something I’m not normally allowed – long distance casting. The river demands it if you want to get out to midstream or further without wading far out and potentially scaring the fish away in the process. And since the river was rarely broken by structure, the flow was even all the way across. Much of the time, there was even room for a decent back cast. I was easily able to shoot line out where I needed it even if the room behind me was somewhat constricted. I had plenty to work with. The places where it was tighter, a nice two handed roll cast did the job for an across or down and across presentation.

Several hours later I finally reached "Suicide Bend" without any bites. No signs of fish anywhere. I tried the rippled sections, any current seams, and the occasional boulder. I changed flies here and there, trying to find something that they would be interested in. No go.

The breeze picked up in early afternoon and it was time to toss the idea of the three rig. Tangles were happening at an ever increasing rate and I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. I put on a 7 foot furled leader with another 4 feet of 6lb fluorocarbon. It was the difference between night and day. Keeping the single fly under control versus the three put a new kick in my step.

After “Suicide Bend”, the river slowed and although I’m sure there were fish in those deep pools, it wasn’t something I wanted to do. Doubling back upriver towards my car seemed the best option.

Of note, there were remains of several large salmon. I wouldn’t want to guess there length or weight, but the skulls were huge. On of them was easily the length of a football. So yes, there are big fish in this river at some point.

I managed to keep myself motivated despite the continued skunk until around 5pm. Scurrying back up the small hill to the car, I refueled on water before heading upriver further than I had gone so far.

The fish were starting to get active as the light got lower and the clouds rolled in. I saw plenty of them jumping out of the water, most were decent 17-22 inch sized. However, the river continued to humble me.

After rounding another river bend, I found a stretch of water that was rippled for the length of 300 yards or so. This is where I spent my on the water time until sunset. I did manage to catch a couple of under 19 inch trout that felt sorry for me.

It was now getting pretty dark. So of course, instead of walking back to my car, I decided to see what was on the other side of the park, far downriver from "Suicide Bend" and actually around another bend. As I walked, I kept expecting to see the river over the next rise, but it felt like it would never come. Finally, after a good 15 minutes, I found the river. I didn’t intend to fish, but just see what was there in case I come back someday. It was flat water without a ripple in sight. Oh well.

Heading back to the car it was now almost completely dark. In a very strange Twilight Zone like episode, I found myself completely surrounded by deer. There must have been 20 or more. They just appeared out of no where from behind all of these little hills that made up the landscape. They just stared at me. It was all a little creepy in a cute Bambi sort of way.

Now out of danger of an awful death by deer, I finally made it back to my car. It was pitch black out. My day of 12 hours of fishing the American was over.