I thought some of you might enjoy hearing about my recent trip to Utah's Green River, so, for what it's worth, here's the story:

Green River Report
April 2005

Returned a couple weeks ago from four fine days of fishing on Utah?s Green River, in company with my oldest daughter, youngest son, and three good friends. We enjoyed some fine catch and release fishing, and the camaraderie was as good as it gets.

This is Baetis time of year on the Green, and if you hit it just right with cool, wet weather conditions, the emergences can often be profuse, with unbelievable numbers of insects available to the trout. The Green is a very fertile river.

Our first day on the river brought varied results, depending on who found the best spots of insect activity and feeding fish. We keep in touch on the river with two-way radios, and this helps to know who is taking fish with which flies, and where. My son, who more often than not out-fishes me, came through with the best catches of the day, with the rest of us having varied success. There were some Blue-winged Olives emerging here and there, but not in the consistent numbers that have produced some of our better catches of past years.

On day two, five of our party of six floated the river in pontoon boats. I acted as shuttler to and from the boat ramp below the dam, and spent the day alone wade fishing around Little Hole. The floaters did pretty well on the 7-mile float down from Flaming Gorge Dam. But again, the hatches were sporadic due to the mostly sunny skies that prevailed during the day, and they had to resort to streamers and midges to take most of their fish. This was my worst day of fishing on the river. With very little surface feeding activity, I had to resort to using nymphs and strike indicators--my least favorite way to fish this river. I ended up with only two fish to my credit for the entire afternoon, and I left the river early feeling a little discouraged. But getting back to our condo early gave me time for a warm shower, a restful nap, and for getting dinner ready for the floaters when they returned. They had a fun evening sharing their day?s experiences on this beautiful stretch of river. Before bedtime, we tied a few flies for the next day?s fishing, then shot a little bull and told a few jokes before hitting the sack.

Day three brought a welcome change in the weather, with cooler temperatures and overcast skies?much better conditions for Baetis emergences. We all waded across the river and fished some of our favorite spots of previous years.

The guys who went upstream had pretty good luck with their BWO patterns, while my daughter and I fished a large, slow-moving backwater pool, located some distance downstream.

This unique shallow water pool lies off the main current and always seems to hold some good fish. When we arrived we found a number of nice browns cruising through the mud-bottom shallows, and they continued to do so throughout the entire afternoon. While a few BWOs showed up on the water, the fish never seemed to really key-in on them. So we stayed with our tiny midge patterns that took plenty of fish, one of which taped-out at a solid 20 inches. The heavy hook-jawed male sipped in my #20 midge pattern in a tiny surface dimple, and took several minutes to land. It was a beautiful specimen!

When the late afternoon shadows began to lengthen, signaling the end of the day, we headed back upstream to our crossing point. Our light protective windbreakers felt good against the cool evening breeze blowing down the river. My old legs felt a little rubbery after the day?s fishing and the long, tiring walk.

Our successful technique in taking fish in this shallow backwater pool is worth mentioning. As in past visits here, the trout seem to feed predominantly on midges. And that generally means having to use very small flies and fine tippets. Wind is almost always a certainty here, and with a riffled surface and cloudy skies reflecting off the water, it is all but impossible to see one?s small artificial on the surface. That means, in order to be successful here, good strike detection is paramount.

Our method was a simple one. It amounted to attaching a small ?pinch-on? foam indicator to the tippet, 12? to 18? above the fly. I?m sure this isn?t anything new to many anglers, but I came upon it quite by accident here a couple of years ago. Only half of the stick-on indicator is used, and after being folded over and attached, it is trimmed down to the shape of a tiny football, and reduced in size to not much larger than a big grain of rice. The scissors on my small Swiss Army knife works perfectly for this task. Any visible color will work, but I prefer white or yellow. The orange and pink ones somehow offend my fly-fishing tastes.

As small as the trimmed-down indicator is, it is surprisingly visible on a dark, reflective, riffled surface. To detect strikes to the trailing dry fly, all one has to do is concentrate on the indicator, and watch for rise forms in its near vicinity. Whenever a splash, bulge, or small dimple appears near the indicator, it should be assumed that a fish has taken your fly, and the reaction should be an immediate tightening of the line. These indicators have proven to be very effective, and had my daughter and I not used them, there is no doubt in my mind that we would have taken only an occasional fish that day.

That evening brought some cold rain and winds that dropped some fresh snow on the higher elevations. In fact, we drove through some occasional snowflakes on our way back up to the lodge. Some warm showers and a hot, home-cooked meal provided a mighty fine ending to an excellent day of fishing.

We awoke to some heavily overcast skies and cooler weather, promising the hope for a good Baetis hatch. After getting packed and checking out of our condo, we enjoyed a good breakfast at the lodge caf?, then headed down to the river for our last day of fishing.

My Patagonia Deep Wading Jacket over a fleece sweater felt mighty good against the cold wind and the occasional rain coming down the canyon. Most of our party crossed over the river to fish along the opposite bank, but I opted to fish a section of the river that I call the ?Grassy Knoll, a favorite slow stretch of water on boat-ramp side of the river.

The water looked inviting, with some olives appearing here and there on the surface, and a several good fish were rising to intercept them. But every time the strong wind gusts kicked-up?which was every few minutes?the fish stopped raising to the insects. In-between the cold wind gusts I managed to raise and hook several nice browns on my #18 BWO pattern.

My hope for a break in the wind finally came, but surprisingly, the fish stopped rising. This was unusual, because such conditions in the past have provided the perfect setting for good hatches and rising fish. I took the occasion to get out of the water to warm my legs and enjoy a power bar. After a few minutes out of the cold, 44-degree river water, my lets stopped quivering.

The lull didn?t last long however, and the wind picked up again accompanied by some cold rain. Within minutes, the water?s surface was covered with freshly emerged duns, and the fish started gorging in on them. Soon fish were rising everywhere, gulping in the newly emerged duns. But, strangely, they refused my flies that were taken readily less than half-an-hour before. I searched the water for clues, but could find nothing to explain the sudden change in behavior by the fish.

After a couple of quick fly changes, I found a little BWO emerger pattern than looked good, and I tied it onto my 6x tippet with anxious fingers. After dressing the fly with a thin film of silicone, I dropped it gently over a pod of several rising fish, just 15 feet out to my front. I couldn?t see the tiny fly on the dark, reflective water, but when a large nose broke though the surface film where I thought my fly should be, I tightened quickly into a nice fish. The throbbing of my rod felt mighty good after what seemed like a long wait.

The fish?predominantly browns?came to the fly pretty regularly for me after that, and I forgot all about the cold wind and rain and cold water (thank goodness for good breathable rain jackets with protective hoods!). The fish finally chewed up my little fly beyond recognition, so I tied on another one and the action continued.

As the afternoon wore on and the light started to fade, I watched as my companions on the other side of the river began heading back downstream toward the crossing point. While I wanted to stay and continue catching fish, my energy was spent, and the cold shivers had set in permanently after being in that cold water for such a long time.

I decided to go for one more good fish, and I didn?t have to wait long. The last one took my fly on the first drift over its feeding position, and it turned out to be a beautiful heavy 19-inch brown with a girth so wide I could barely get a grip on it to ease it back into the water. After setting him free I reeled in my line, waved a quick good-bye to the still-rising fish, and headed back down the trail to meet my companions as they waded out of the river near the trailhead. This was one of only a few occasions that I have ever left the river with fish still feeding steadily, but my better judgement got the best of me.

All in all it was a delightful trip, and one I will remember for a long time to come. Our plans are already underway for next April, when we?ll meet again on the river to fish the Baetis hatch of the Green River.

Emerger

[url=http://img188.echo.cx/my.php?image=greenriversix4nu.jpg:f024f][/url:f024f]
Our group; that's me third from the left. (Click image to enlarge)




[This message has been edited by E-Merger (edited 14 May 2005).]