Snakes

Indiana Jones and I have something in common. Our discomfort for snakes. While on the Yuba the other day, I had the fortunate or unfortunate, depending on how you look at it, experience of crossing the path of not one, but two snakes.

Normally, I'm okay with it as long as it is a comfortable distance away. Even when close, I'm not one to run or scream like a girl, however, I rather not meet them on those terms.

The first snake was pretty small, maybe a foot and a half. He was on the path and I saw him when he was a few steps away. He slithered off and after I took a breath, I continued on. I'm not sure what kind he was, but he didn't seem very threatening. (Yes, I know, the small ones can be bad too.)

The second snake freaked me out. It was late afternoon and I heard a rustle when I looked down and saw a pretty big snake, in both length and girth less than 2 feet away from my boots. Since he was at least 4 feet long, probably even longer, I wasn't feeling very comfy. I froze in that spot and waited for him to saunter off.

Innocent enough. The next thing I know, this guy climbed up the tree next to me in no more than a few seconds. That freaked me out a little. A few more seconds and he was about 7 to 10 feet in the air above my head.

I was not feeling good about that! I darted off and watched from a safe distance as he went from branch to branch seeming to defy gravity. It's one thing to have a snake below you, but when they get above you... Yikes.

When I was younger, I would often float the Ozark rivers in a canoe. Going under branches, you had to be thoughtful of the possibility of a snake in your face or falling in your lap. And yes, it did happen once. A snake fell from a low tree into the canoe at my feet after bouncing off my upper body. Perhaps that was the start of my anxiety. Who knows. Whatever the case, I'd rather not see them unless I'm watching Animal Planet.

Speaking of snakes, there is a video you can watch of a rattler swimming across a lake and trying to get in a guys boat. Not cool! I'm not exactly okay with the guy tormenting the thing, but man, I don't know what I would of done in that situation. It is bad enough when I see snakes swimming around me while wading. I don't want one trying to get in my float tube some day.

Trip Report: Yuba

Once again, I'm late with another report. Chalk this one up to a busy schedule or laziness. Your choice.

Last week, I made a pilgrimage to the Yuba. I arrived bright and early and waddled my way upstream of the 20 bridge and crossed river well after the bend. Someone remind me to replace the felt on the bottom of my boots. I was slip sliding all over the place and came close to taking a few spills.

After managing a rather clumsy crossing, I went back downstream and put my line out. I had my two handed rod and a 7ips sinking polyleader on the end. I started off with a black string leech, but wasn't really in the mood to power that sucker. So, I replaced it with two soft hackles.

I stepped and swung through the run starting high in the riffles. Nothing happening. There were fish around as I saw a few rises. At one point, I was stripping in my line as the fly hung down below me. I felt a tug and a bright shiny fish took a 3 foot leap out of the water. He looked to be around 17-20 inches. I can't say for sure, because he managed to remove the hook after a few seconds. While it was a short battle, he put on quite the show.

I spent a good hour or two going through this piece of water. Eventually I had enough and walked upstream a ways. While I was the first one on the water, there were now a few people around. And unfortunately, not only people showed up, but wind did as well.

The weather forecast called for rain and a slight 10mph breeze. WRONG! It didn't rain but for a few minutes late in the day. Furthermore, the wind was whipping! We are talking 30-50mph gusts. It was beyond difficult to cast.

I stayed anyway. Waiting for the gusts to slow for each cast. It wasn't impossible, but it wasn't pleasant either. Despite the rough wind, the fish were there. Around noon or so, the big fish were sipping on the surface. I can only imagine a few of them were in the mid to upper 20's. However, in typical Yuba fashion, those fish are smart and hard to catch.

I tried a lot of flies and although they were eating. Between the driving wind and being unclear on what they were eating, it wasn't happening. I finally worked myself down river and crossed again. There were now around 7 people in this area fishing. I saw one guy catch one, but that was it. At least I wasn't alone in my futility.

While I haven't been skunked, the last few outings have been really slow. Sure, I've gotten some smaller guys, but even they were few and far between. What was even more frustrating about this day on the Yuba were all the fish I could see and actively feeding at that. It just wasn't happening.

I decided to give it a rest above the 20. I went back to the car and decided to do some exploring. I'm not going to tell you where I went, because the area can't handle too much fishing pressure. But, what I will say is that there wasn't a soul in sight. It took a while to drive to, but once there, you could access the water without much walking. A nice change of pace.

One thing really annoyed me though. I was swinging in a piece of water as a guide in a drift boat decided that I must have been in his space. He not only went over my line, but after the drift through the run, he rowed back up two more times. Each time, he again crossed my line and didn't as much as say “sorry” or “do you mind?”. How rude. This sort of stuff really pisses me off. I know who the guide is, he posts on Kienes forum. But, I'm going to keep my trap shut. What an ass. Have some respect. Just because you have a boat and a paying client to satisfy doesn't mean you have a free pass to drift over my line and sit there keeping me from casting again.

Other than those few moments, the day was good. The rain didn't last long and although the fish were not cooperating, I got to explore some new water that I'll visit again.

Trip Report: Lower Stan

Tuesday was another day on the Lower Stan. If you recall, I put out an open invitation to see if anyone would show up. It was a shot in the dark. However, surprisingly enough, someone took the challenge. I had a great time with Tim and hopefully we'll meet up again sometime.

If you read my previous post about spey casting a single-hander, you already know that I spent some time messing around. The reason I was able to do so much of that, is that the fishing stunk. Plain and simple. On Monday afternoon, someone decided to open the flood gates and the river rose quite a bit. As you all know, that can make for some poor fishing. I saw two risers the entire day! That's it.

I caught a few smaller fish, all under 12". But otherwise, the day was eerily silent. No bites, no grabs, no nothing. And I'd say I covered the water from a few inches below the surface to deep down in the pools. I must of tried 50 of the flies I had with me. Tim and I weren't alone, the other people we talked with had nothing.

It was still a beautiful day. In the mid 60's and plenty of sunshine. I showed Tim some of my secret spots that seem to get overlooked by everyone else. In return, he promised to take me to his favorite river to show me around. Can't beat that!

Next time Lower Stan! Next time...

Spey Casting a Single Hander

Took my single hand rod to the Lower Stan yesterday. What a nice change of pace. I'll just come out and say it. My single hand rod use has improved ten fold since I started using a two hander.

I've always been able to cast over hand. Nothing has changed there. However, in the tight confines of your typical river or creek around here, there is always something behind you limiting your cast. My options used to be a roll cast or simply flicking the thing out there as far as possible. Which usually wasn't very far or very graceful.

Now that I'm decent enough in the various spey casts thanks to the switch and spey rods, I was able to spey cast my single hander as far as I needed. More than 50 feet at times. What a difference. You probably know this is coming, but I now prefer spey casting to overhead when using the one hander. Why? Because it is less work and requires no false casts. You can whip that sucker out there in a couple of moves. Even if you are making a wholesale direction change.

The only downside was when I had a few split shot on and a heavy fly at the same time. It started to get sloppy. The WF line just didn't have enough weight upfront to turn it over smoothly.

Something else I tried, that I've never done before on a river is to put on a full sinking line instead of a floater. This provided a few benefits. First it sunk, just like it is supposed to. And since I was doing sub surface fishing, that was perfect. Second, the 40 foot head is completely clear. Less likely to scare the fish off.

I won't be giving up my two handed rod anytime soon. However, I can say that I have a new found joy for casting single handers again. While it was more fatiguing than using a two hander, it wasn't bad.

Open Invitation

Thought I'd put a friendly invite out there to whoever is reading this. I'll be fishing the Lower Stan tomorrow the 24th. Starting up near the dam early in the morning as the sun gets up. I'll slowly work myself downstream as the morning wears on. I expect to move to Two Mile bar around noon or a little after. I'll be there until the sun goes down.

edit: While I'm at Two Mile, I tend to skip around. However, when I first arrive I'll be up at the top where the frog water starts to speed up. Then work downstream on the far bank. I can sometimes walk VERY far downstream. So, if you want to find me, it may be easier at Tulloch.

Trip Report: Russian

Last week, I made another trip to the Russian. Because of my previous experience on this river, I decided to take a little more time pouring over maps. If you recall, the last time here, I had difficulty finding decent access. I just didn't want that to happen again.

The Russian takes a while to clear. And since we had that big rain a little over a week ago, I decided to go further up river, trying to avoid the mud. My first access was a few miles North of Cloverdale.

It was a pleasant surprise to see that the river was less urban here. Canyons, cliffs, big boulders providing cover to the fish and replaced the flat wine country lands below. It was quite the contrast to downstream of Healdsburg. As far as the water clarity, it was a nice “steelhead green” color. Visibility was 3 to 4 feet. Perfect.

I stopped at 4 or 5 spots that were easily accessible. I found plenty of runs to swing through on this almost 70 degree day. Long story short, I didn't catch anything beyond a smolt. I didn't even hook an adult fish. The only thing I did get was a good sized bump near the end of the day.

There were fish though. I saw a 32+ inch buck in about 3 feet of water at the end of a tailout. However, beyond him, I didn't see anything. Nor did I talk to anyone else that caught a fish. It was pretty quiet.

This part of the river is far more enjoyable than the lower section, imo. When I go back, I'll probably return to this area.

Return to single hand?

Over the weekend, a couple of us went fishing in a small creek for a bit. Maximum casting distance was 30 or so feet. However, you would be fine casting under 10 feet on most occasions. And in some instances I was casting less than 5 (is that really a cast?).

Needless to say, there was no reason for a two handed rod. So, I went to my closet and dusted off a 9 foot single hander that hasn't seen action in more than a year. I've got to say, it was quite refreshing to wave around an almost weightless rod. Zinging out 30 foot overhead casts or even a few single hand speys. I really dug it.

Now, I won't be giving up my two handed rods. However, I will be taking that single hander out again this week! I enjoyed it so much, that I want to give it another whirl. So, I'm on the prowl for another small river/creek that has some good fishing.

Trip Report: Russian

Chocolate milk anyone? That's what the Russian looked like on my rainy day visit late last week. This river is one I had always heard about and had interest in going to. However, for one reason or another, I never did anything about it. To my surprise, it is very close to me, a short 80 miles. What the heck was I doing all this time?

I didn't want to miss out any longer, so I put on the rain jacket and braved the elements for a chance at some steelhead. Before going, I talked to a number of people and poured over Google maps to figure out my game plan. Unfortunately, when I arrived in the area, I came to the sad conclusion that that game plan was flawed. I've never taken so many wrong turns thanks to Google. They are usually much more accurate than this. Most of the roads that were listed were on private property and completely useless.

Luckily, I stopped at the right gas station that had a knowledgeable fisherman who pointed me towards one of my planned destinations. Just outside of Healdsburg, I got to the stained river and stood knee deep in water. I couldn't see my boot laces, if that gives you any indication of visibility. Despite the muddy water, I did hook up with a few fish throughout the day. Unfortunately, none of them came to hand.

After fishing for about an hour, I decided to walk downstream and try and find those other locations that Google maps so inaccurately supplied me with. Because the water was so high, most of good looking spots were much too deep and swift to stand in. I managed to walk about 2 miles downstream only to find out the best water was where I started.

So back I went. Spent another hour or so carefully stepping and swinging. I hooked my first fish. As you can imagine, I never saw him. At the closest, he was about 20 feet away, then came unbuttoned. If I were to guess by his strength, I would say he was at least 20 inches. Although, that is pretty difficult to know for sure.

I made the long walk back to the car and hopped in. Drove up 101 past Healdsburg to check out my other spots from my satellite survey. Guess what? Couldn't access the river here either. A bunch of non existent roads and private property. Boy, river access is difficult around here.

Went further north to Cloverdale and tried to find some other places to fish. Again, no go!! This was getting frustrating. I decided to cut my losses and drive back to where I started. Fifty miles round trip and even more depressing, more than an hour wasted!

The weather on this day was rain, rain, and more rain. For a bad weather weekday, it was rather crowded. This river must be lined with people on a nice weekend. As someone who likes to get away from others, it may be hard to pull off here.

I tried an array of steelhead flies from size 4 to 8. To keep things simple, I opted to not do any 2 or 3 fly rigs. Feather and hair wings were the most used with a few marabou and bunny strip leeches thrown in for good measure. As far as the river itself and what techniques I used... Without being able to see into the water, I don't know if there were any boulders down there or any sort of cover. Since my sinking tip never hit anything or got snagged, I'm going to assume it was simply river rock and nothing else. With that in mind, I concentrated on the edges of the river where the flow was not as strong.


A bunch of gear guys were planted above me and one or two of them caught fish. They were in slower water and although it would of worked fine with a fly, I didn't want to get into the middle of them. I stayed in the fast section below. Normally I'm okay with this, but considering the lack of boulders in the river, I was somewhat skeptical any steelhead would be holding.

I continued fishing, hoping that I'd get a fish that was passing through. As I was stepping through a run, the river was about 70 feet wide. Casting across almost hitting the opposite bank, the fly and tip would sink after a pullback mend and before it drifted downstream. On the swing, I would start dropping my rod to slow as much as possible. On one of these casts, the fly stopped on the opposite bank just as it started swinging. Since I hadn't snagged all day long, I was immediately hoping it was a fish. I dropped the loop I was holding in my hand as the fish took the slack. At this point I knew someone was there, I set the hook and the fish bolted downstream as my size 4 feather wing must of ruined his day. He had to be pretty good size, line was screaming off my reel as it started crossing river to my side. After reeling in some slack I tried to bring him a little closer as he was in slower water now. He obliged somewhat and I gained about 20 feet on him. It was a blur at the time and is still a blur now, but at some point he took another run. My running line/backing connection point zinged through the guides. This guy was hot and combined with the strong current, he had his way with me. The fish was far downstream and about to go around a corner. This wasn't good. I tried to palm the reel as I was floating downstream in waist to chest deep water. I couldn't make up the distance. So I palmed harder while I scurried for shallower water. My rod was bent over as far as I have ever seen it. Then, before I knew it, the fish disappeared around the corner dragging my line into shore. That was it. Complete slack line. The fish was gone.

That was the most exciting part of my day by far and may be the most exciting moment of the year. And although I didn't catch him or get a glimpse, it was fantastic! I'll be back to this river when it clears.

Footage of Bird Catching Fish

I stumbled across this video just a few moments ago. It is quite amazing footage shot from underwater as a bird comes down from the sky and grabs a fish. Thought it was worth sharing with all of you.

Fly #41: Leadwing Coachman - Steelhead Version

Leadwing Coachman's make great trout patterns. I've used these small winged flies to great success. While tying a few up the other night, I realized that it may make a good steelhead fly. So, with a little adjustment it is now ready for bigger fish.

Leadwing Coachman - Steelhead Version

Tag: Light Golden Brown Floss
Body: Bright Green Peacock Herl with Oval Tinsel Ribbing
Collar: American Speckled Hen Back (brown)
Wing: Duck Quill

Report: Lower Stanislaus

The night before leaving on another Lower Stanislaus trip, I looked over sat maps to see if there was some new water to fish. As much as I love this river, it can get tiresome going to the same runs every time.

Arrived to the Tulloch access prior to daylight. After gearing up I wanted to warm up at the dam. However, upon getting there, I found out that they turned off the spigot on the road side. That pretty much screwed up my plan to fish this area. It might as well of been a lake, the water was still as could be. Since I don't dead drift under an indicator, there just wasn't enough current to suit my style. No matter how many fish may be lurking under the surface.

The water was flowing out of the far side, so I decided to have a look. This would be my first time over there, so I wanted to check it out. I crossed river and walked up to the side stream that flows out of that side of the dam. There wasn't a lot of access, so I decided to skip it. Opting instead to walk down river along side the empty canals that parallel.

I walked a long ways and was high above river. The drop down to the water was too steep. Here we are, a couple hours into the day and my line has yet to get wet! The view was beautiful and that was enough to keep hiking.


I'm not sure how far I went. But it was a ways. I was deep into the canyon that stretches between Tulloch and Two-Mile. There looked to be some good water below me, but it just was too hairy to attempt getting down there. So, I didn't bother. All in all, I probably spent 2 or 3 hours walking and enjoying the pleasant weather.

Eventually, I decided to turn around and head back. I'm pretty sure I could of walked all the way to Two-Mile, but never did. I bet it wasn't that much further from where I stopped.

Before getting all the way back to where I originally crossed the river, I scrambled down some rocks and found a spot to fish. I've been here before. But the water was so low, it looked quite a bit different. If there were fish around, they weren't biting.


Fishing was slow throughout the day. I saw a handful of other fly fisherman and none of them were catching anything. They seemed surprised when I told them that I caught a few small ones under 12 inches, and to me, on this river, that is a really slow day. This was quite the contrast from my previous trip. On that outing, fish were rising all over the place. I could see them just about everywhere I looked. Today, there were no risers and I didn't see any swimming around.

Eventually I found myself at Two Mile. I took the usual circuit. No luck whatsoever. I didn't see any fish either. Which is odd. I normally see them here and there. A couple of hours later, I was downstream quite a ways and finally saw some fish. They were all hiding 4 or 5 feet down in large rocky cover. They were eating. That was a good sign. I tried for them, but had no luck. I decided to move on after about 15 minutes of swapping flies and techniques.

Instead of giving you a play by play of each run I went to, I'll just say I covered the river pretty thoroughly. I tried quite the number of fly patterns. Soft hackles, wet flies, nymphs. Sizes ranged from 10-18. These were not working. After throwing on the bigger flies, I started to get more takers. I caught a few fish in the 15 inch range on size 6-10 marabou flies. These have worked in the past on difficult days and again, they produced a few fish. The largest was approximately 18 inches long and took a black marabou with a purple guinea collar. It was swung on a 3.9 ips sink tip and the takes were almost all on the beginning of the swing.

It was a slow, but enjoyable day. I gave up as the sun was setting and I could no longer see the fly line easily. Spey casting in the dark is not a good idea as far as I'm concerned, so that was reason enough to call it quits.

As I was stepping out of the water, I saw a large steelhead that someone had gutted right there at the river. Keep in mind this is a catch and release area. Poachers! They really tick me off. I measured the wild fish at 32 inches. The largest steelhead I've seen on the Stanislaus. Too bad his life was taken by someone who has no regard for the regulations.

Updates on the way

I've had a little more time the past few days to tie some flies. Soft hackles, (trout) speys, and winged wets were all on the menu after loading up on new material from the fly shop. I need to get the camera out so that I can post some pictures.

Early last week, I was able to sneak out to the Lower Stanislaus. I have the report written up, but I still haven't loaded the pictures from my camera. I'll try to do that tomorrow. As a preview, this time of year, the Stan can be on one day and off the next. It was off this time around. I caught a handful of fish, the largest being around 17 or 18 inches. But man, was it slow. The water was even lower than my last trip and the fish were definitely hunkered down. Spoke with quite a few other fly fisherman (kinda crowded for a weekday) and no one was catching anything. So, I felt privileged to have caught a few over 15".

Stay tuned for that report.

No fishing and No skiing?

Because of work commitments, I haven't been fishing since that last Yuba report. I've been so busy that I haven't even tied a fly. The only fish related stuff I've been doing is reading blogs and forums, and even that has slowed.

The last couple of winters I've felt very out of sorts. Skiing has been my winter addiction for more than 28 years. Each season, I've managed to get out between 20 and 50 days (100+ in my youth) at either a ski area or hiking into the backcountry for more excitement. In fact, moving to the Bay Area from Los Angeles was partly to put me closer to better skiing. Unfortunately, something has happened the last couple of years. My skiing has ground to a halt. Last year, I had an excuse. My son was only a few months old and leaving to ski once or twice a week wasn't going to happen. And this year, I don't know what's going on. The lack of storms? The stronger drive to fish year-round? I'm not sure. All I know is that I almost feel depressed because I haven't even gone once.

So, with that said, I've promised myself to get out there this week if I can swing it. Fishing, will have to take a back seat.

I know this is a fly fishing blog and I won't make a habit of posting about skiing. Just felt like I haven't posted anything here lately, and since I haven't been fishing, I figured this is the next best thing.

Report: Yuba

The Yuba is fast becoming one of my favorite rivers. Not so much for the amount of fish caught, because frankly I can catch many more elsewhere. It is probably for the challenge. I think the fish in this river are smart. That, or I just get a case of the stupids every time I get on this water. Just yesterday, I decided to push my luck once again and give her a try.

The Yuba is farther away from me than I'd like it to be. It takes me almost three hours to get there. That means waking up at 3AM if I want to get there by sunup. As you can imagine, I did exactly that. In fact, I was there at least a half hour before there was any light whatsoever.

I parked under the 20 bridge and headed upstream. No one was around. I had the river to myself for at least an hour. I stepped and swung through the same run a couple of times trying different flies on each pass. I've caught fish here before, so I figured I'd give it another shot. This time, I crossed the river to get a different look at it.


Within the first ten to fifteen minutes, I had a bite. After some fighting, I pulled in and landed a 20 or so inch nice looking rainbow. Possibly a steelhead that has been to sea. He had some brightness to him. Hard to say for sure because I didn't get him out of the water. I cradled him under his belly and took the hook out. He had plenty of fight left and he swam away quickly. He gave me the finger on the way out too. My face was soaked from his splash.

This guy was caught on a 5 inch long egg sucking bunny leech with a stinger hook. I tied it just the other day on a whim. It was fished on a 7.6ips sinking poly leader in the heart of a run near the end of a swing. What a day this was going to be! Or so I thought.


The Yuba has a way of taking it away from you. That was the last activity I'd have for several hours. A guide and his drift boat came by to unload his clients. I was down at the end of the run about to go back to the top to start over. But alas, they had stepped in. Some of you fly fisherman, and you know who you are, don't move. Sit and cast till your arm falls off. Since I didn't feel like waiting around, I went upstream for greener pastures.


Several hours went by and I fished various runs pretty thoroughly. Various flies were tied on to no affect. Smaller soft hackles, winged wets, hair and feather wing steelhead flies, you name it. Stupid me, I put that egg sucking leech on my baseball cap to dry and when I bent over at one point, it flopped into the water. I didn't have another. What I did have were some other marabou flies I have recently tied. They were tried too.

As I was about to leave a run, the shooting head was being brought back in. When it got within 15 feet of me, I was startled to see a good size salmon well over 30 inches chasing my fly. Keep in mind I wasn't trying to catch him. I had no idea he was even there until this moment. At the last second he turned and darted away. My heart jumped just seeing him. Never mind if he took.

After witnessing that guy, I realized a few more salmon were in this run. They were moldy looking and had to be near the end. I hope they had the chance to do their business and make lots of babies.

Eventually I walked upstream a ways as the crowds started rolling in. For a Tuesday, I was surprised to see so many people. The primo spots were being sucked up by the squatters, and I needed to find empty water where I could step and swing down the runs.

It was now early afternoon and fish were starting to rise. Skwalas were landing on my arms and face driving me nuts. However, I don't think the fish were keyed in on them. They looked to be chasing smaller bugs on the surface. I tried everything in the book to catch these guys and couldn't do it. I saw small and large fish rising. I also saw some 24+ inch rainbows cruising the slower water. They all ignored my offerings. Really smart, or I went really dumb. Take your pick.

Nearing the end of the day, I went back downriver and tried some spots from earlier. I caught some smaller fish with soft hackles. I witnessed a large, perhaps close to 30” rainbow leaping out of the water a good three feet. He would leap once, twice, three times in as many seconds. It was crazy. He was no more than 10 feet away in shallow riffly water. I worked hard to get him, but it just wasn't meant to be.

I love the Yuba. Even though it wasn't an impressive day as far as catching fish. It was another great experience on a very warm sunny day.

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.