Report: Lower Stanislaus

It has been a little while since I'd been to the Lower Stanislaus. Figured it to be as good of time as any to give it another look-see.

After waking up and leaving earlier than I should have, I arrived at Tulloch Road about 45 minutes before sunrise. This gave me time to get a little more sleep in while I waited for enough light to walk down to the river.

My first destination was under the dam. I immediately noticed the water was low clear. Because of the low light, I couldn't see in the water, but knew fish must be around because they were already rising to BWOs. The ones coming to the surface were rather small. A splash here and there, I swung some wet flies without much results. I had a few dries with me, but since I rarely fish them, I didn't have the right size or color, so I tried to match something close with soft hackles and winged wets. The idea was to fish them right under the surface film.

I tied a size 16 soft hackle in front and a size 10 or 12 winged wet trailing behind. That got some attention. The fish that were attacking them were rather small. And after catching a few, I realized catching bigger fish would not be possible in this location because of the little guys.

I didn't need much convincing to move on. It was cold and the mist coming off the falls wasn't all that pleasant as it pounded me in the face. I moved slightly downstream.

The water seemed less riffly than usual, I'm assuming because of the lower flows. I wouldn't be able to go as far downstream as usual without running into very slow water. Since I don't fish with indicators and I wasn't doing the dry fly thing, it made little sense to stay in this area. Not enough current to keep the swing going. So, with that in mind, I went back upstream a little bit and flopped my line around where a dam side channel meets the river.

After hiking back up the steep path, I went further downstream and found more riffles. I swung various soft hackles and winged wets. I don't remember getting any bites at all. No matter how many flies I tried or what depth of the water column I was in, nothing seemed to be working. Even the rising fish seemed to lessen while the hatch continued. I found myself tying on some of my larger flies and just watching how the patterns swam in the current. If that gives you any indication how slow the fishing was, I don't know what would. I continued fishing the usual spots for another few hours with nothing to show for it.

The original plan was to cross the river and go downstream for some exploration. For whatever reason, I just wasn't in the mood. Instead, I fished the same places I always fish and by 12:30 or 1pm, it was time to pack up for Two-Mile.

I did notice a lot of dead salmon parts laying in the stream bed. Skin, chunks of meat, skeletons, you name it. Later that evening as I left, I spoke with a Park Ranger who told me that the salmon count was up this year quite a bit. That was good to hear. I'm hopeful that it will continue to climb. Fingers crossed.

Like Tulloch, the lot at Two-Mile was empty and I had the river to myself. I saw absolutely no one the entire day. Well, I take that back, I saw a couple of drunk guys on an ATV. They were flying around their property wearing cammos. I'm not sure if they were hunting or not, but it was an interesting experience. From a distance, one of the guys yells to me, “Hey boy, where's your fishing license? [slight pause] Get off my property,, I hope you can swim fast! Cause we're coming for you!” I knew they were kidding around, but it was a little strange. Then a few minutes later after one of them takes a leak, the other says loud enough to make sure I could hear “Get a head shot, make sure he doesn't get away!”. Again, I realized they were kidding, but it wasn't something I like to hear in the middle of no where with no one else around. As they drove off, they slowed down and waved to me. Whew.

I covered Two Mile very thoroughly and experimented with all kinds of flies. By the time I gave up for the day, I caught three or four 10-15inch fish and lost as many. Like upstream, it was slow. The larger fish seemed to be hunkered down, even while a ferocious hatch was going off around 2pm. Only the dinks were coming to the surface.

I kept waiting for it to get better. I convinced myself to stay until dark because the bite would surely turn on! As the sun went down, the action didn't change. It was complete dead. I can't recall the last, or if ever, I've seen the Lower Stan this unproductive. Still, it was a nice cool day on the water.