Three streams, two States, and a bright sunshiny day. This was originally a smallmouth outing but with all the rain high water changed that for us. Switching from large river to spring creek we took off for the Yellow Breeches in a slight shower. I thought maybe with some cloud cover if it doesn't actually rain again we would get some fish rising to something. But getting to Boiling Springs the clouds had melted away and the sun beamed in a brilliant blue sky. We had a pretty good turnout considering the Tenkara Jam was also going on; Mickey McGuire, a Colorado member of TU, has been on a couple of our outings while working here in the land of pleasant living. Plus PPTU members Chuq Yang, Josh Loh, President Bob O'Donnell, Lou Reichel and myself.
There is something mesmerizing about walking out on the wood bridge over the Run and seeing thirty to 40 trout fining and shifting position in that clear shallow current. The current seams distort the bottom some, but If I look for a few minutes I can begin to pick out the bigger fish, the rainbows from the browns. A fisherman was drifting a midge pupae through the pod and getting little notice on its way through. Scouting up, we found some more fish holding in the three pools just up from the bridge. Knowing these fish have been pounded with minutiae for the past month or three I told Chuq & Lou I was going the other direction and put on a red San Juan Worm. Within fifteen minutes I hooked two browns landing one, then switched to green and got another, after which the pod in my pool just seemed to melt way.
We moseyed on down to the main stem in search of Bob and Mickey. 50 yards upstream from where we crossed the Breeches Kids were really whooping it up using a swing rope to dive the river while a happy Yellow lab circled the landing zone. It's easy to see where the yellow Breeches got its name, the water still a bit stained from the rains was a dull yellow maybe more the color of green tea. A little high but quite wade able, my black woolly booger visible down to about two feet. Fishing up tight to some downed trees along the far bank Chuq got nice brown on a pink San Juan, and Lou got a trout small enough it ensued debate on whether it qualified as a fingerling or more properly should be called a nubbin? Lou pointed out that no matter what we called it he was catching wild fish while Chuq and I were just catching stockers. The kids on inflatable tubes dog in tow drifted through us still hoot'n and holler'n and climbed a tree just below us to jump out of. I hiked down a little ways looking for Bob but all I found was a lot of spin fishermen and more kids, so on the way back up I told the guys it was lunch time.
We found Bob & Mickey back up at the run, and not long after Josh strolled up. I think Josh said he got one on a Griffiths and Mickey had one on. While we were eating the crowd really started to build like one would expect on such a beautiful day. Hikers, bikers, walkers & families with small children out fishing. A little girl of about 3 marched by us her daddy carrying a bright blue fishing outfit about two feet long. As she went by I asked her if she had caught the big one yet? She immediately went into a story telling me about this fish using her arms to show just how big it was that she was either going to catch or maybe already had, I wasn't sure. She told it on the move pointing toward the bridge with more fish on her mind. We couldn't tell if they were worm fishing or not, but since it's hard to tell little kids they can't fish anyway, we decided it's little folk like her that are the future of fly fishing and cheered her on.
Finishing up lunch we decided to head for Big Spring. Stopping at the ditch we found a few fish and no shade. By this time the sun really had some power, and while the truck thermometer said it was only 82, within 45 minutes I had sweat soaked my shirt and my hair was even wet. We gave it a good go everybody saying fish would give chase but wouldn't take. There were a few rises and Chuq bolstered our confidence netting a nice brookie on a Adams parachute. But an hour of that it was time to head to the lower parking lot in search of shade and hopefully easier fishing.
Well it wasn't any easier or any cooler. Chuq got a rainbow on an Adams completing a Grand Slam of brown, brookie & rainbow, the rest of us got some exercise. Out of water I headed back to the truck, others showing up shortly. By this time it was 4 pm and Josh & Chuq was getting out of their waders, the rest of us jawing about what next. We had to head south anyway so took off to see what Big Hunting looked like. Getting there about 6 pm the creek looked prime with lots of good pocket water. Suggesting elk hair caddis we split up. It was still early but the light was getting low under the canopy and the fishing might have been better an hour or two earlier. anyway, I had seven strikes before finally landing one, I think they were actually refusing and slapping at it, the others reporting about the same.
It was nice day to be out, and from the way people were talking at supper I think everybody got tired in a good way. next outing is the Whitefly in august that I think Ken Bowyer will be leading, look for details.