Friends, Fins, and Cold Beer...

Friends, Fins, and Cold Beer...

... and maybe some whiskey and grilled chicken. 

Camping is merely a good excuse to explore beautiful places.  Since I first moved to Utah I continuously read about Strawberry Reservoir.  Kokanee salmon, beautiful cutthroat trout and impressive scenery were the many mentioned items that drew me to the place.  Well, Strawberry Reservoir walks the talk.  

 The fishing wasn't exactly spectacular.  We trolled mostly using plugs, spinners and spoons.  I even spent some time casting but that wasn't very productive either.  The wind was incredibly rough at times. The highlight of the trip was putting my good friend and coworker on his first trout. 

He looks happy right?

After coming home from Strawberry I felt the need to get back out and fish a little.  I had swung and missed several times at Willard Bay but this time was a little different.  I ended up spending all day trolling for the infamous "wiper", or hybrids as we call them back East.  

With my co-pilot directing I was able to find a nice limit of convicts.  

Snag-hooked carp anyone?

Yeah, Winter is Over

I can honestly say that my first winter in Utah was one the hardest in my life.  Learning to live on my own, paying bills, working a real (full-time+) job, working on a master’s degree and dealing with a rambunctious puppy has worn me out.  With summer officially in full swing I have had little time to fish.  Instead of screaming drag, smooth fly casts and precious time with loved ones I am stuck basking in the desert sun of Wyoming. 

But, I do make it home on the weekends occasionally.  When I do the family hits the water with short notice.  

The water was ice cold as it trickled between our toes.  Eventually, we became numb to the cold and even began to enjoy the crystal clear snowmelt.  It sweetened the experience to lay into several small rainbows and cutthroats on dry flies. 

Savannah enjoyed it.

These fish fight well on a three weight fly rod.  In years past I have turned up my nose to fishing such small flows and catching such small specimens.  I guess I have to eat my words, because these places hold a special place in my heart nowadays. 

I also had a chance to get out on some flat water and put the smack down on a couple crappie.  They taste good.  

I was taken back at just how black these fish were.  I have caught many back in Virginia but none that were colored quite like these.  The pics above have no filter or editing applied—salt, pepper and Cajun seasoning likely. 

Neither Here, nor There

 Neither Here, nor There 

Working on the road is like fishing in an overly stocked trout pond.  You know that catches will come easy but you inevitably miss the finer things in life-- like spending time with loved ones.  Lately, this has been the story of my life, except for the fishing a trout pond part.

Luckily, my travels have allowed me to pass through some stunning places in both Utah and Wyoming.  One of which is the Green River.  It is undoubtedly the most beautiful water system I have had the chance to fish in quite some time.  The water is unbelievably clear.  The aquatic life is diverse and the scenery is something to squander.

The Green River is a tailwater system that originates from the base of Flaming Gorge Reservoir.  The Gorge is known for beautiful lake trout, kokanee salmon, rainbows and fat smallies to boot.  For me, all she would give up is a nice sunset photo.

When the Salt Lake valley starts to heat up it is easy to cool off.  All you need to do is take a 45 minute drive to the rugged Uinta Mountains.  It’s pretty awesome that it can be 90 degrees in the valley and 60 degrees in the mountains with several feet of snow still left. 

I was also surprised to see that the lakes were still iced up.  That being said, they are thawing fast.  I was hoping the fishing would be great since the ice was just coming off—not the case, just one small brookie to show for my efforts. 

After hiking a bit I couldn’t help but try a few casts lower down on the Provo River.  It was blown out, raging, off color—I got humbled but the pooch had a good time. 

Cheers y'all.  

2,000 Miles and a Few More Memories

2,000 Miles and a Few More Memories

It isn't often that I get to head out for multiple days of fishing—let alone travel across the country to do so.  It seemed as though the stars had aligned, the moon turned red and before I knew it my soon to be wife and I were in the air headed east. 

We left Salt Lake City International Airport to clear skies and sixty degree temperatures—as usual the weather upon arrival was less than stellar.  When you have to schedule a trip across the country the price of air travel becomes much more paramount than the ten day forecast.  But, regardless of the conditions, I had decided to fish as hard as possible and to enjoy the time away from the grind of real life as much as possible.

The first day was certainly disheartening—the James River growled and snarled at more than 20,000 cubic feet per second and I only had a couple fish to show for my efforts.  A nasty gully washer of storm had swept through the region the night before our arrival.  After some bitchin’ and moanin’ to a local Richmond angler an offer was extended to join him on his boat on a more docile parcel of river water. 

My hopes weren't exactly elevated, but I was positive.   At seven the next morning the first day of catching commenced.  Finned friends of all flavors made appearances throughout the day on the water.  It was a gift to be able to make it out onto the water with such a knowledgeable local who shares the same disease as I.  It didn't take long to get on them and we truly made a multi-species day of it.  Can't say thanks enough brother.   

After taking a beating on the James I was reluctant to try again.  Luckily, passion persisted and my father and I found our fair share of Hickory Shad right where they are supposed to be.  We waded, we fished from the bank, we slayed 'em--end of story.

Catching 15-25 fish per hour at times would be far from exaggeration--it's that awesome of a fishery. Shad aren't the only target, white perch and stripers on the fly are more than possible. 

  

The next day or two were full of catching, laughing and spending moments that I will not soon forget with the people I love--not to mention marrying my best friend, the most awesome person I have ever met! 

Back on the Yak

Back on the Yak
3/16/2014

As winter turns to spring I cannot help but dream of kayak fishing.  Needless to say, kayak fishing in Salt Lake City has been tough for me.  In over 7 months as a Utahan my kayak has only been in the water once!  My time has been spent learning to fly cast in tight quarters, tie flies and chase small stream trout--nothing picture worthy, but a lot of fun.  

After clearing my kayak of neglect it was time to hit the open water for the first time in 2014.  Kari and I decided to remove the rear seats from the trusty minivan with the intent to convert it into a camping mobile.  After the conversion was complete we set course for Deer Creek Reservoir.  

The day was windy, warm and very sunny.  Upon arrival I was somewhat discouraged as I knew I would be fighting the wind for the biggest portion of the evening.  I thought, "ahhh shit, might as well try", and I am glad I did!  I launched around 4:00 pm and was off the water by 6:30 pm with three beautiful rainbows to show for my effort.  It started off slow but as the wind picked up so did the fishing.   By the end of the day I had taken several wind-chopped waves over the bow and my hands were frozen from the spray.  There were a couple other people out in float tubes and personal pontoons, but they stayed in the protection of the bay to the right of the ramp.  I hope they eventually got their share.  

As night crept closer we retreated to the camp site.  I gathered some wood for a fire, sparked the charcoal, and enjoyed one too many cold ones.  After a great dinner of brats and mushrooms we decided to hit the sack.  I woke up maybe 3 hours later in what seemed to be some unfamiliar version of the human popsicle.  I would guess there was at least a 1/16" of ice coating all of the interior windows.  It wasn't easy, but with a super serious 3-way cuddle between Kari, myself, and our pointer Savannah we made it through the night. 

The morning was bitterly cold but the air was perfectly still.  After stoking the fire, shaking off the chill and having a bite for breakfast it was time to do it all again.  With the mild winds and warm temperatures it was obvious I wasn't going to be the only one out on the lake.  Many other boaters and bank tanglers beat me to the punch, but I was still able to get my  fill.  After only two hours I had my limit and was headed off the water.  

Other than the cold, it was an awesome weekend with my lady and hound out at the lake!