Nowhere, Wyoming

[Poke 'Em]

It had been too long since I'd been to Wyoming. Nearly three years, in fact. The job situation the last couple of summers had prevented me from going, so I was really looking forward to it this time.

When I think of fishing the west, it's not the mighty, famous rivers that come to mind. The Snake? The Yellowstone? The Gallatin? Not at all. Nope, what comes to mind for me is the little bitty streams that nobody's ever heard of: the places that get overlooked even when they run right by a road. When I think of trout fishing, my mind swells with images of creeks and streams so small they shouldn't have names, even if they do.

Two years ago I took the girl who is now my wife fly fishing with me for the first time. She instantly fell in love with it. Ever since then, I've had one spot in mind where I wanted to take her. Last week, we finally made it happen.

The thing is, it almost didn't happen again this year. You see, my wife is eight months pregnant with our first child. But the doctor gave her the "OK" to go ahead and go camping/fishing, so off we went!

We made it to the mountains about noon on Thursday. We quickly set up camp and headed off toward the first creek I wanted to fish. We'll call it "Secret Creek." But first I stop and fill up the water jug. From a pipe sticking out of the side of the mountain.



Then we hit Secret Creek. It's the one coming in from the left. Yeah, the one you can't see the water on.



The widest spots on the creek are 6-8 feet wide, most holes are closer to 3 or 4 feet across. Some are more like 1 or 2. But it's absolutely chock full of brookies. You have to be stealthy though. If they see you, they're gone. If you make a poor cast, they're gone. But if you stay low, go slow, make a good cast, and work your way from the back of the pool up, you can often catch 5 or 6 fish per hole. And they'll hit anything, so you might as well throw dry flies, because, well, that's more fun...



My wife was a little out of practice, as she hadn't cast a fly rod since last summer. But she did catch one fish the first day.



I was able to get on a roll and caught several fish out of several holes in a row. Yeah, they're small, but when you can catch 30 of them in 150 yards, well, I love it...

[kbproctor]

Yep.. I know where a couple of those "Nowhere Creeks" are around Casper. I found at least one of them by falling in while walking across what I thought was unbroken prairie. Tons of fun! Lots of brookies and some of those hole have bigger fish than what you got there, but they sure don't fight any harder.

[Poke 'Em]

We woke up on Day Two with a pair of moose just outside of our camp. A momma and a baby about 100 yards away. Oh, and a cow elk was about 30 yards from our tent when I stepped outside. But she was gone in a hurry. The moose pair stuck around for an hour or better. They're not scared of much.

We decided to go hit another small (but slightly larger) stream nearby. This is the stream where I really came into my own as a fly fisherman three years prior. In 2007 I came here with my brother. I had been fly fishing for a few years, but had never really gotten into it. My brother, on the other hand, was a big time fly fisherman. We had fished a couple of days, and he's really outfished me. I think I'd lost as many flies as I'd caught fish, if not more. Then we went this area, where two creeks, "Well Shrouded Creek" and "Concealed Creek" diverged. He went up Concealed Creek, and I headed up Well Shrouded Creek. Several hours later, he came looking for me. Because I kept going upstream, because I kept catching fish. Something finally clicked, and I caught well over 50 fish that day.

Anyway, since this is where I came into my own as a fly fisherman, I wanted to bring my wife here. Unfortunately, when I was here last time, the creek was much lower and you were able to cross it regularly in just boots. But the water's much higher in early July than it is in mid-August, and it simply wasn't crossable, at least not for an 8-month pregnant woman. So we didn't fish it long. Long enough for me to catch one small brook trout, but that was it.

We decided to head a couple of hours away to a somewhat larger stream that I knew was more open and that my wife would be able to cast to more easily. We'll call it Furtive Creek. (I'm sneaky like that).

Anyway, we got there and started upstream, but the water was very high and off-color. Now the water was high everywhere, but most streams in the area were at least clear. Not this one.

We did get a neat visitor in the short while we fished it though.



My wife actually heard him before she saw him. He stayed on the other side of the river and watched us for 10 minutes or better before we finally headed off. While we (I) only caught one fish here, seeing this bull moose so close was actually the #2 highlight of the trip for my wife. So I'm glad we did it.

That night after supper, we went and fished a local lake. My wife caught a 10" cutthroat or so, but we didn't get any pictures. Oh well.

Two days, two fish for her so far.

[Poke 'Em]

My wife took a relaxation day on Day Three, so I took off by myself. I found an unnamed lake through some aerial photos that looked interesting, so I thought I'd give it a try. The lake wasn't on the USGS quads, but did appear in the aerials, so I thought it might have been relatively recently formed. I woke up to the same momma and baby moose in our camp that had been there the day before. I took off early in the morning and hadn't gone very far before I saw another momma and calf moose.



Then I passed a curious couple of antelope a few more miles down the road.



Eventually, I drove to the end of the road, then hiked another mile and a quarter or so to the lake. On the hike down to the lake, I passed a small family of mule deer. Two does and one fawn between them. The does stopped and stared at me, but the baby was curious, and mom didn't stop him. He bounded up within 20 yards of me or so. Unfortunately I didn't get a good picture of him when he wast that close, but it was still a very cool moment.



Eventually I came over a hill and saw the lake sprawled out before me. What a beautiful sight! Turned out there had been a landslide within the last few years (see Day Five) that had dammed up the creek and formed this lake. That's why it was on the aerials, but not the topo maps.



I didn't try fishing the lake, but started on the river just upstream from it. The first hole that I hit instantly produced a nice little cutthroat.



A few casts later though, something hit a size 6 black wooly bugger. It was a big cutthroat! He actually took me quite a ways downstream before I landed him. Turned out to be the biggest cutthroat of my life (so far - see Days Four and Five). A nice, fat 18 inches! What a start to the day! (I normally try not to pull trout up onto the sand, but there was nowhere else to put him to take a picture. He swam off strongly to fight another day).



I continued upstream, but while the water looked decent, it didn't seem to hold many fish. I caught one and missed another, but the water was really moving and if there were fish in it, they were holding close to the bottom. I wasn't seeing anything flash or anything.



Until I made it about a mile upriver, where several trees had fallen across and dammed the river up for a large hole.

The first cast into this hole produced a nice fish.



As did almost every cast thereafter. I probably caught 15 fish out of this one hole (which I forgot to take a picture of), with the average being about 12". I was still catching fish when my alarm went off telling me it was time to go (I promised the wife I'd be back in camp by 2:30).

I'd just climbed out of the river bottom and sat down on a rock at the top of the hill for a quick drink and a snack when I looked off to my right and saw the sight I'd been wanting to see for years. My first bear! Since I was hiking alone, I'd been intentionally making a lot of noise ("lookout BEARS!") as I hiked, and apparently it worked because this guy was heading away from me. Unfortunately, my camera takes a while to open up and be ready to shoot, but I got yelled at him just as he was cresting the ridge and got him to stop. You can't make out much, but he's there!

[Poke 'Em]

On night number three, my wife and I headed into town to stay at a bed and breakfast. Five nights in a tent in a row would have been too much for her, so we split them up. The next day, we slept in, had a nice breakfast where we didn't have to worry about cleaning up or putting our food in a tree or anything, and then headed off to a new place that I'd never been before. Unfortunately, we drove several miles, only to find that the road was closed about a half mile before I expected. Had it just been me, I would have simply hiked in, but no way my very-pregnant wife was going to do that. So we turned around and headed back to Well Shrouded Creek, where we'd tried a couple days before, but this time with waders.

We headed upstream and I let my wife take most of the good holes. She tied on an FEB Hopper (insert shout out to John Scott here), and went to work. She quickly had a fish on, but sadly it ended in a LDR. A few casts later into the same hole, she missed another fish. Oh well, she hadn't landed any yet, but she was definitely improving. What was really improving was her casting. She was keeping her backcast up, and her timing was getting much better. She's always had a tendency to rush her forecast, but today she was doing much better at letter her line straight out behind her before bringing it forward.

And she found her rhythm. She's always been bad about wanting to make 7 false casts for a 25' cast, but today she got into a nice, smooth rhythm of two false casts and then a real cast. Which, while was probably still one more false cast than she needed, was certainly an improvement. In fact, at one point she put her fly in the bushes and I saw her just pick her line up and put it right back down. I'm pretty sure that was the first time she'd ever done that. I was really proud of her.



Anyway, she'd missed or lost several fish, while I'd caught several, but she kept going on. Eventually she hit a nice deep hole, but with tall brush on either side. The open water was no more than 2.5 feet across here. And the bushes on either side stuck up at least 3 feet above the water. But she started at the back and worked her way up the hole, and eventually hooked (and landed!) a 9" brookie! Unfortunately husband wasn't quick enough with the camera, and her fish slipped out of her hand before I could get a picture. But she was awfully proud of her self, and I was even moreso. After she caught that fish, she let me try the hole as well to see if I could pull another fish out of it. My very first cast produced a nice... bush. Which swallowed my fly whole. Which I'm pretty sure made her day even more.

Shortly thereafter, she decided she'd walked far enough, so we headed back to the truck, and I went up the other fork, Concealed Creek to catch a few fish for my supper (my wife doesn't eat fish, so she had baked potatoes).

A short while later I had three small brookies and we headed back to camp!



That night, after supper we headed back to the nearby lake again. Three years ago I caught several nice sized Grayling, but didn't get any pictures of them. So I wanted to catch one again this time. Well, things don't always go as planned (that's what makes it so fun). I didn't catch any Grayling, but I did catch this little fella...



The absurd look on my face is due to my wife's camera abilities... She was having all kinds of trouble. I think this was about the fourth picture she took, but the first one that actually included both me and the fish. And I didn't know she was about to take it. But anyway, it was another big, gorgeous cutthroat. Cutties are hands down my favorite trout, and I'd caught two big ones so far!

[Poke 'Em]

Day Five was our last day to fish. My wife wanted to relax a little bit more, so I headed off on my own again. This time I decided to head back to the lake I described on Day Three, but this time go well downstream of the lake. I parked at the end of the road and hiked 3 miles or so in, about two miles downstream of the lake. It was cold this morning! There was frost on the ground and ice on some of the small ponds on the way to the stream. When I made it to the lake, there were two elk cows standing on the opposite edge. The picture doesn't do the sight justice!



Anyway, I headed downstream from the lake through what had to have been a fairly recent landslide.

There were very few trees left standing, and there had only been a little bit of revegetation in the area of the slide. I'm guessing it had to have happened in the last 15 years at the most. There was a ton of debris at the bottom, which made for a very interesting river.



Anyway, I continued on, and the hike down along the river was beautiful. The elk had absolutely worn a trail down to the bare dirt along there.



Oh, this is where I hid the gold:



Anyway, I finally decided to stop and fish my way back upstream. While the water looked fantastic, it didn't produce much. I did catch a small whitefish (the only one of the trip) in the first hole, but other than a tiny (three to four inches) cutthroat, it was the only fish I caught for a mile and a half.



Eventually I made it back up to just below the lake and there was a very large and very deep hole (several trees from the landslide had dammed the river). Bingo! Almost every cast produced a missed strike at the least, and a 14" cutthroat at best. I caught 10 fish or so out of there before I continued upstream to the lake...

When I hit the lake, fish were rising to the few small mayflies that were coming off. I caught one fish on a streamer, then switched to a dry fly just as the fish stopped rising (as the wind picked up). When the wind died down, I'd already moved further along the shoreline, and from here I couldn't reach the fish that were rising. Rather than go back down the lake to where I could reach the fish, I decided to just head on up to the lake inlet. Good decision. Just before the river dumped into the lake there was a deep, slow pool where a couple of downed trees provided lots of cover. I peered in and saw a massive cutthroat holding in the middle of the current. A solid 20" fish. I put a size 18 CDC dry fly in front of him and watched him slowly rise in the stream as it came his way. When my fly got to about a foot in front of him, he EXPLODED on it! Fish on! I said out loud, "this will be my favorite fish I've ever caught if I can land him!" I shouldn't have said that. Because as soon as I did, he shook my fly.

Still, what an experience! Seeing a fish that large holding in the river, watching him rise to your fly. Watching that huge mouth open and the explosion when he decided he wanted it! I only got to fight him for a few seconds, but it's still a fish I will always remember.

I swapped over to a heavy wooly bugger to get to some more large trout I saw sitting on the bottom. Unfortunately the large trout weren't interested, but I did catch a few fifteen-inchers and this fella:



I swapped back over to a dry fly (this time a #8 yellow stimulator) and headed upstream. Not 15 yards upstream from where I missed the twenty-incher, there was another deep hole along the bank, and I plopped the fly down on it. Instantly another nice fish erupted on it. And this one I landed!



Another 18" cutthroat! And he too swam away to be caught another day! I continued upstream to the same holes I'd fished two days earlier, and caught a steady diet of 12" - 15" cutties. Beautiful, wild fish in their native habitat.

Rainbows, browns and brookies are all good and well, but to me there's nothing better than catching native fish. Especially when they're big. But even when they're small, they're still beautiful.



Anyway... no bears today. I headed back to meet up with my wife, and after supper we went back to the Secret Stream where we started out. (to be continued)

[Poke 'Em]

This time, the vast improvements that my wife made showed themselves. So far, in three days of fishing, she'd caught three fish. On our last day, on the last stream, she caught four.



No, she's not fencing... She's stalking brookies.




So the way I calculate it, we spent $10 a fish on my wife, or about $1.40 per inch of fish. But it was well worth it. She had fun, and seeing the improvement she made as a fly fisherlady made me as proud as any husband can be. I love her and I love Wyoming. What could be better? I guess in a few years when we take our daughter back there and this time she's outside the womb...

And, finally, the last fish of the trip:

[JohnScott]

.... Poke 'Em.

John

[Dblackman]

Very Nice. Sounds like a great trip! Thanks for posting all the pics, really makes it seem real. And congrats on the baby!
David

[Byron Zuehlsdorff]

Okay poke'Em, I am guessing that these are in northern Wyoming, BUT some of them look DAM FAMILIAR!!

great pics and report!!