Yesterday was a wake up call

Yesterday was a wake up call for me, out on the Salt River AZ, on my own exploring some new water. Beautiful day, what could go wrong?
When the water looks deep and you are almost at the top of your waders back off!!!!
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I was fishing some new water when I snagged my flies on a submerged rock on the other side of the run. I can get that!! Big mistake and stupid!!!
Took off my vest left the rod and waded out with my wading stick, halfway over it got very deep and then I slipped and in I went over my head full waders filling up even with my wading belt on!
Now I am lucky as I have surfed all my life and I know how to handle myself in water and a situation like this. The water was pretty cold but I just pushed off the bottom and swam and pushed over to the other side. It was not far, but shock is your enemy and less experienced fishers could be in deep trouble!
Clambered out only to find I was stuck on the other side water was too deep to try and cross back.
Again you never know what is going to happen next,I looked up stream and could see some deep dark muddy water in a back flow but it was getting shallower the further up I went. I had a small cliff behind me so i could not crawl up. I had all dead bamboo brush tight into the water so I was using the bamboo like a snow shoe in the mud. However that did not work well and I was sinking deep quickly, I managed to crab some tree branches and use that as leverage to pull my self back out, very deep mud and sticky!!! I hate mud!!!!
Back to square one!
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Ok,the cliff it was, not big but vertical. I started climbing being very carefully to look before I placed my hands on on crack or ledge above me. Making sure there were no rattlers sunning them selves in early warm weather. In wet full wading gear not easy plus having to keep under all the dead trees and bushes hanging down. Made it to the top then had to walk about 1/4 mile to be able to wade across a shallower part to get to my vest and rod, soaking wet.
For what? to save two flies? I know so much better than that. I fish a lot on my own in out of the way places, so this was a wake up call to be more prudent in the future.
The day yielded one 19 inch rainbow that snapped off my tippet right at the net, one lost big Sonoran sucker that snapped off all my gear after a minute or so and one Sonoran landed.
At the end of the day some rainbows were on the surface taking flies. I rigged up only to have a strike that snapped the barb less end of my fly off. I guess that was fate telling me to go home!

San Juan river New Mexico, Fly Fishing in January 2020

Got the call from the boys, there is a small window of time this weekend in between storms do you want to float the San Juan? Do Birds Fly, do Bears Shiiiii!!!!! In the woods, sign me up!!!

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Matt and Chris Arizona Fly Fishing Guides, Dave, Steve and me the old boy!!! Out the door at four am Friday morning, the plan to rendezvous somewhere along the trip with the other truck and guys. You know what they say all good plan for mice and men! Well the other guys ran into a snow storm which slowed them down so it was every truck for itself.

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 Dave and I pressed on ahead now the pathfinders. We hit the New Mexico border only to find they have some strange animals in that there bad lands, prehistoric vistas which blows the mind with the vastness and who knew what roamed the lands!!

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Eventually we arrive around two in the afternoon to gale force winds, snow flurries and nineteen degrees Fahrenheit temps. Jump out the truck sniff the air, the question do we go or not Goose!!! One look at each other and into our waders pull on many layers and rod up. Just at this point the others turn up and off we go. The plan to fish the Braids as it is too late to put the boats in.

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If you have not fished the San Juan the Braids are just up from the famous Texas hole which can only be waded too shallow for boats.

It was bitterly cold with numb hands and no fingers to feel, we all spread out and every man for himself. All the guys caught three to five fish each, except for the old guy I was skunked that afternoon. As the light faded and the ducks winged their way in for a good night rest, we all headed back to the trucks talking about what worked and what did not. In my case a stick of dynamite, might have been better use!!! We disturbed a deer and her fawn on the trail both as cold as us!!

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We stayed at Fish Heads San Juan River Lodge where our meals awaited us. After all the talk and food back to the rooms for hot showers then headed into the war room where Matt was tying Flies that he figured would work well the next day. Orders in, off to bed dreaming about that big elusive brown that was just waiting for my fly!

Next day loaded up and we had the boats in the water by eight am, which on a normal day would be very late as the crowds are always big on this river. However, this time of year it is pretty quiet. On arrival we were the first two boats in the water with a few wading fly guys already in the water along the edges of Texas Hole.

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We anchored up trying various flies with little success, a fish here and there but not much action. After several hours we started to drift down, this river is all catch and release using oars only on the boats, no motors so it is very peaceful. We all fished different flies under indicators, some nymphs, leeches, emerges, eggs of every color and just about every color and combo under the sun. All of us had success at different times of the day with shouts of encouragements and fantastic esprit de corps!!

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Around two in the afternoon we pulled the boats up on a bank and had a great lunch, smoked salmon, jerky, salads plus so much more. Once sated back into the boats to drift the afternoon away. We all caught plenty of fighting Wild rainbows with some beautiful colored up browns. The drift to the take out point is about six miles so it is a leisurely float with mild rapids and the odd rock to avoid here and there.

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Fly Fishing with five friends for a day is very special, also have two fly fishing guides with us was invaluable as you learn so much from them. Matt Traynor who guides all over Arizona and Chris Wilson who guides at Lees Ferry. I highly recommend you book them if you are fishing in these areas!!

Both were so generous in their time and knowledge I certainly learnt from them. Many times, just watching how they approached the water, how they cast, and most importantly for me, watching how they mended their lines for that perfect drift. That is one of the most important aspects of fly fishing. Note that they were not our guides, just good friends fishing along sides us enjoying their time on the water.

As dusk approached, we landed at the take out point loading the boats on the trailers as quickly as we could as dinner awaited us.

 One thing to remember, is to get your New Mexico fishing license, pay your five-dollar park ticket to park and pinch your flies you are using as it is barbless and the game wardens are there and they police strictly.

Hot shower and sweet dreams not wet dreams!!

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Next day rinse and repeat, except this time Steve caught a monster Rainbow early in the day. Then in the afternoon Matt hooked into a big one. We were further down but we heard the drama, Matt was in the boat in shallow water when the fish took his fly. In water I had fished hard for a while with no luck!!! The fish took off down river so Matt jumped out running and stumbling along the shallow water trying to keep it under control. Shouting for someone to bring a net as he had a bloody big one on!! More shouts, water splashing laughter then hoots as they final landed this prize into the net. Sound carry so easily on water so we lived the moment vicariously!!!

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So much fun, so many moments, so much to reflect on, such as Matt with his beard and Russian looking fur cap that immediately became the butt of Russian lore!! Ivan the great, you get the drift!

 Our when one of our guys who shall remain nameless, had a stomach malfunction and had to hit the head urgently, just as we were walking into the fly shop to discuss leaving the boats in storage. Full of manly men and he shouts out as Ivan the Russian is walking into the store, he needs to hit the POTTY!!!!

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Potty what the Fuccccccccc!!!!

Ivan was sheepishly looking the other way at that point!

I have never seen a guy get out of all his padded clothing and full waders in that time frame, I think it should become an Olympic sport as there was so much grunting, cursing, stretching, panting all the while with such concentration!! Epic to watch!!! And the explosion what an encore!!!!

If you get a bunch of guys to share rooms and gas it very affordable, plus there are plenty of places to wade so if you do not have access to a boat don’t be deterred. Fish the Braids up and also fish down river plenty of walkable wading areas to be reached.Attachment

Up early Monday and head home looking forward to the next trip.

 I am blessed to have such friends. Fly Fishing what an adventure

 

Fly Fishing the San Juan River in New Mexico

 

Fly Fishing the San Juan River New Mexico.

The day started at four am, left Phoenix at five am. According to google maps, it would be a seven-hour fifteen-minute drive. However, with gas stops and towing a drift boat and with a rendezvous to meet our other friends who also were towing a drift boat, we hit the river around three in the afternoon, taking into account losing an hour due to the time difference.

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Once at the river, we had to launch the two boats, then drive both trucks down to the parking lot at the end of a six-mile drift, then drive one truck back. Time was ticking. We launched at Texas hole, which is the first pool of the drift. This hole is the catch and release barbless area of the river. You can fish higher up to the dam and of course, below the take out point.

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We fished the Texas hole with all the guys catching a few nice fish except me I was skunked that day. Fishing was slow, and there was a lot of weed drifting down in the water, and just about every cast covered your flies in green weed, which was a pain to take off the flies. I think this for sure slowed down the fishing.

I was fishing with three friends, one being Matt Traynor, a fly-fishing guide licensed in Arizona, a true expert who has fished the San Juan numerous occasions and is very knowledgeable. Trust me, he has the patience of Job! as we were continually harassing him for which fly now!!!!

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He brought along his brand-new drift boat, also Dave Geruais, who brought his boat. Dave and I fished together, Matt, along with his friend Steve fished in their boat. Both drift boats are Willie boats, great boats very shallow draft with excellent stability. As time was moving along, we decided to take off and drift the river so that Dave could get some firsthand experience rowing down and through some small rapids. Also, he was getting to know and try not to hit the rocks that jutted out in just the right place to ding your boat. There was not much time for fishing as we had to get down to the take out spot before dark. We did cast here and there, but before we knew it, it was dark, and we still had a ways to go.

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Now the fun started, Dave asked me to give him directions as he was rowing with his back to the downside of the river. Took a while for us to understand my right was his left, etc. understanding I had never been on this river, it was now pitch dark. As I peered into the gloom trying to figure where the river went, I said to him I think this river goes to the right; he glanced over his shoulder and said no, it goes left, but we must keep right. What???? Are you sure? Then down in the gloom, a bright light turned on with a voice saying follow the light. Is that Matt? Or a pirate luring us to our doom! As they say, follow the yellow brick road in our case, the light.

If you were above the river around eight-thirty that night, you probably thought there was a drug bust going on. Lights were turning on and off shouted instructions that got lost in the night. Me to Dave watch that rock coming up on the right, Dave to me your right or my right??? Never mind, we just hit it, try not to fall out! Dave had a headlight I had a headlight the guys had headlights, and we still hit a few rocks, but we missed more than we hit so all good. Eventually, we made the landing. The Eagle has landed pitch black, is that the ramp??

Loaded up the boats and then had dinner around ten-thirty that night, off to bed.

Up at five am, looking forward to the whole day on the water, we were the first boats on Texas hole as it was just getting light, but not the first people on the river. There were two guys waist-deep in the headwaters that feed the Texas hole, they stayed there all day and killed it. The rumor was they were Russian. They must have been as they had ice running through their veins because that water is cold, and they were there for at least eight hours. They must have caught well over fifty fish between them that day. It seemed to me they were high sticking indicators in very fast-moving water and hitting the edges as the water flowed into the deeper pool. Very impressive, as we were on the other side of them in deeper water.

Matt and Steve caught some fish along with Dave, and I did not. The wind was picking up and gusting pretty strong along with the weeds making it a little difficult. After about four hours, we decided to head downstream; we drifted through the Texas hole and past the first rapid. At this point, we tied up the boats on either side of the rapids. We got out and waded alongside the deeper water. I hooked a nice rainbow that jumped out of the water, gave me the finger and spat my fly out!

The wind was now howling with white caps coming back up the river towards us; Matt was looking worried. There was still about five miles to row down, but the wind was now almost gale force; it would be next to impossible to row down. We huddled up, and all decide that the best we could do would be to walk the boats back up the rapids alongside the banks and eventually get to the deeper water and row back up to Texas hole where we could get the boats out.

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The forecast turned out to be twenty-seven mile per hour winds with gusts up to who knew!!! Whitecaps galore!!!

Now Dave started rowing with Matt in his boat just behind us. We were all rowing against the down current that was strong. Having done a lot of ocean sail racing, I knew the wind was now our friend. I stood up on our bow, opened my jacked, and spread my arms like a spinnaker sail, and the race was on!!! We took off; Matt was looking on in his top of the line brand new Willies boat that had every gadget known to man on it. Except for a sail, who knew! We won the sailing regatta that day on the San Juan. Unfortunately for us, there was no cup this time at the end of the race!!!

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So now what to do? There was still plenty of time so back to the hole, and yes, those Russians were still there, catching machines. In fact, on closer inspection, I think they were some sort of new Soviet fishing inventions, some kind of robotics being tested. Fish on, Fish On, Fish Bloody On!!!!! Give it a rest go home mate!!! Never did find out what flies they were using; I think they were also robotic flies that chased the trout down!! Honest, that makes a lot of sense!!!

We struggled on, Matt did better and so did Steve, Dave caught a couple and also lost a huge brown; Dave to me fish on, Dave it’s really big – get the net!! I jumped up the fish came over to my side of the boat, all golden brown and huge, I started to reach down with the net, and the fish just rolled over and dove deep, snap gone!!! A Beast for sure.

We all fished on; at this point, I was getting desperate! I had tried all kinds of flies, and yes, I know, you have to use tiny flies on the San Juan. I was using flies at this point that were so small I could hardly see to put them on my 6 x tippets. I was using cheater glasses 2.75 and magnifiers over those that were four times magnification!!!! So small we were!!! Still no fish, for the hell of it, I put on a green weenie and bang my first and only rainbow of the day!!!! It was now around five-thirty, and we were all so windblown that we all decided to head in. Loaded the boats and off for food and a couple of beers!!!

At the restaurant, we ordered our food, and I asked what beers do you have? Sorry, it is Sunday, and we do not sell alcohol! Now to a Welshman that is fighting words, no beer!!! Seriously!!! Yep!! Well, so be it! Soda water is not so bad!

Matt saved the day; these Arizonan guides are nothing but resourceful!! To be clear, Matt was not guiding us in Mexico; it was his time off, and by the look on his face when he saw me casting, I could tell he was truly happy he was not guiding me!!!

Matt said, let’s get some ice cream at the shop. Great idea, as we entered, I saw a woman buying beers over the counter, What? I asked the guy behind the counter; we can buy beer here on a Sunday??? Yep, of course, so ice cream and beer it was!!! Well, I passed on the ice cream! A few beers later, a hot shower, and I was gonzo asleep in ten nanoseconds!!!

The next morning, we were the first people on the water. Matt was staying another day, so he launched his boat while Dave and I waded the top of the fast-moving water into Texas hole. Matt and Steve did well in their boat, moving around the hole. There were plenty of boats on Texas hole with a lot of guys wading all along the river; it was pretty busy.

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Dave and I both caught a couple of nice fish with the highlight for me one nice brown, not huge, but fat and heavy that took me a while to bring to the net. At around ten, we bagged it and packed up for home.

Matt sent me an update on their fishing on Monday after we left. They fished Texas hole, catching four or five fish then drifted down to the take out point, catching a few more. It was windy but not as strong as on Sunday. On Tuesday they hit Texas hole in the morning fishing the top end plus drifting around, in the faster water at the head of Texas hole. They did catch four or five fish with a few more added before they left around ten thirty.

Matt did find out when he talked to a local guide that the lake above that feeds the San Juan was just starting to turn over, so that would account for the extra weeds and slight color to the water. General consensus is that after about another week or so the river will return to normal and will be excellent fishing again.

 Till the next time, may there be no wind and no weeds!!!!

A funny tail of Fly-Fishing approaches to the water

 

Yesterday my friend and I Marc set off for a very remote and hard creek to hike into in the Arizona high mountains.

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I had warned Marc that this was no walk in the park, we set off early Friday morning only getting lost on the drive up once, that did set us back about half an hour. The log roads have very small road markers that are easy to miss.

Anyway, we arrived at our destination with the temperature where we parked hovering around Seventy-two degrees very nice. We knew going down into the canyon below us it would be warmer and it was slightly humid around eighty-six-degree Fahrenheit. The plan for the day was to hike a long way up to explore parts of this creek we had not been to.

Unfortunately for us, the water flow was pretty low, so it came down to fishing the deeper pools when we came across them, which were few and far between, so a lot of hiking!

This is a remote place, so I was very surprised to bump into a father, son combo who were walking and spin fishing downstream, we were walking upstream fly-fishing. I was on the west side of the creek fairly high up climbing on a steep slope looking down on the stream. They were on the East side, walking the banks.

The conversation as follows, me, hi how you are doing any luck? Reply, you fished the holes below us? Me, Yes, and my buddy is behind me following up. How about you? We fished the holes above us. Him, so all the holes are now screwed up? Me, well the lower holes we fished about an hour ago, so they are probably fine now! Him, you fished here before? Me yes sir, how about you? Him, All my life! Him, I was taking my son downstream to teach him that he needs to crawl on his hands and knees the last fifteen feet to the edge of the bank and stay low, as these fish are so spooky. If you catch one fish out of a pool, it is done and done. Well, good luck we are moving on up have a great day!

So, we hiked and fished in the heat of the bright noonday sun, came across some deep pools that you knew were holding some big browns. We tried all different techniques to no avail! Wrong time of day for sure.

Around three in the afternoon hiking thru some dense brush came across some fresh Bear spate, and you could smell the bear he was near. At this point, we had a long hike out so time to head back. A long hike entailed up and down thru bush on the trail on washed-up monsoon rocks in the heat of the day. Hard going.

Eventually, around just past five in the afternoon, we came back to the first fishing hole that we had fished early that morning in the bright sun now in shadow. The first order of the day was to cool off so we got out our filtered drinking straws, got down on our hand and knees and greedily sucked in as much stream water as we could we were seriously getting dehydrated at that point! Next, I took off my cap, filled it with water, and poured numerous times over my head and shoulders all the time knee-deep in the water.

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Marc took it a step further I looked over he was stripping off, and in he went swimming all over the pool. At this point, I was looking at the deep pool I was standing and splashing in thinking, I hate being skunked. I picked up my rod that was set up with a leach and nymph deep under an indicator. I left all my gear on the bank, and waded up to my lower chest into the pool, with about fifteen feet left between the opposite bank and me. I cast my fly in slowly stripping back to give some movement. Third cast in I was retrieving about eight feet from my body in the water when I felt that I had snacked the bottom, slowly lifted my rod only then to realize I had a big, brown trout on that took off!! Fish on playing him, Marc asked, do you need the net which I had left on the bank with all my gear. Yes, sir, I started to walk back over the slippery rocks towards him playing the fish, at that moment the fish took off again I thought I had enough play in my rod tip to absorb the run and did not let some line off, snap he was gone breaking my 4 x leader!!!

So, to my point, on the one hand crawling into the side of the creek, total stealth. On the other hand, swimming in the pool wading deep into it splashing water all over yourself, general mayhem and big fish on just under your nose. That my friends are the joys of fishing, you never know what can happen!

Next, a long slog back up a very steep canyon that took us an hour and seven minutes to reach the top, whos counting I was! If I was going to have a heart attack, this was the place!!!! The last part up Marc took off I was stumbling along behind him mentally trying to get him to stop for a breather, this mind game was not very successful, well if he can do it so can I!!!! Stumbling to the truck, we tried to hand pump only to realize these two fat boys did not have the energy! Back to the gym!!!

Miles & miles searching small creeks in Arizona.

Miles and miles and miles and miles walking stumbling, pushing thru bush avoiding snakes!, Climbing up, down, over, slipping well you get the picture! The end of the day hurting all over, wishing you were ten years younger!!!!

We are exploring the Apache reservation and the White Mountains in Arizona. Marc and I continue our quest to search and learn all about these beautiful small creeks.

 We are an odd couple, consider our backgrounds, serious surfers from days gone by now living in a desert. Both enthusiastic fly fishermen chasing those elusive trout in moving waters. Not to say we do not fish the lakes, we do.

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 However, there is so much water to search you pick your passion first. For us, it is running water. The Difficult place the fish love to lurk in, then how the hell do I get a fly in there?

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Bow and arrow cast, no pun intended!! Roll cast, high sticking, what the hell cast! Hope and pray, cast!! Figure it out. The lost flies, and there are always lots!! If you do not lose fly’s, you are not trying, Right!!! Who the hell came up with that stupid expression!! So bloody frustrating!!!

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The sun, the sweat, wind, bad light, old eyes, squinting with your cheater glasses on with the four times magnifiers clipped on as well. The condensation, misty cannot see what the hell I am trying to tie on. Stop, take a drink of water, wish it was a bloody scotch right at this frustrating moment. 

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Gather your inner self, take a deep breath, repeat!! Finally, fly on, first cast!! Straight into that bush again!!!! That is when you discover you are a saint!!! Either that or throw it all away and start drinking seriously that is the lot of a Fly Fishermen in small creeks. Not for the faint of heart.

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The moving water, slippery rocks, the root you did not see that jumps out and grabs your foot down you go!! Save the rod in that fleeting moment before you crash to earth. Quickly looking around to see if your buddy saw the move, Nope we are good to go!! Oops, better check the body! all moving no pain jump up, onward.

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It’s called fishing, not catching !!! Another stupid expression. I get it to smell the roses enjoy the scenery your friends being out there! But it would be nice to catch an occasional fish!! I think even the die hearts who are the absolute purist, deep down in their souls, if they were truthful with them selves would agree to, it OK to want the odd fish here and there!

The end of a long day thinking I have to get back out there tomorrow. Getting out of the truck like a cripple after the drive home. Thirsting to do it all over again.

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