Unreal

Last November I was alerted to a potential hot bed of fly fishing by Master Yoda.
We made a hasty plan to meet up around Pioneer Day... July 24 for you non-Utah persons.
I was not given any information about this spot other than it was East of Salt Lake. The fishing was amazing and that it was a small stream. Both Yoda & I prefer the small streams.
So when time came to throw down Izzy e-mailed me a map of no names, arrows, circles, mile markers, and FR road numbers. From this I deciphered where I was headed, and began to make plans to leave.
I didn't do any research into the area I was about to set forth upon. Yoda keeps this place very secret. While there he explained to me that to give the location of this spot to anyone else was to void the friendship we had created. In short he said; "you would be dead to me." (so don't ask)
Along with this he also dialed me into another creek that we will fish next year when his foot has healed. The bonus to all this was he dropped the beans on a few other choice spots here in Utah.
So, I packed my truck up for 6 nights of camping and fishing.
I didn't know the species of trout, the elevation, the terrain, the weather or anything at all about what I was getting into. Just location. I knew the secrecy Yoda holds this place in and I thought the less I knew the better. Even now, I still don't want to research the area. It was pristine and I want to keep that way. Ignorance will be my bliss.Therefore I truly was venturing into the unknown.
I left Salt Lake late in the evening and after stopping to get my out of state fishing license and food I arrived at the circle, circle, dot, dot, mile marker 45 on the map at about 5 am.
There on the FR road was a sign with an arrow pointing down with my name on it; my new home for a few days.
Drove down, parked and went to sleep in the back of my truck. With the sun about to break and the sky just turning a dull blue I passed out. It would not be long before the heat of the sun would wake me.
I awoke hot, sweaty, hungry, in desperate need of coffee and almost feeling rested. I was astonished to wake up to a breath taking canyon full of magnificent rock formations, thousands of aspens, so many different conifers, and a beautiful small stream.
What I would learn over the next few days was that this was very close to mecca, or at least a fly fishing paradise. The Holy Grail of spots. Not for size, but for the amount of fish, the cleanliness of the stream, and the miles the stream covered.
Now many people go after the big guns, I just like to catch fish... well trout.I caught more fish in 6 days than most people probably catch in a life time of fly fishing. I am not being cocky, I just happened to land an insane amount of fish. Also, one of the agreements and conditions of me fishing here with Yoda was that I had to pinch the barbs on my hooks and be barbless. Truth be told it was a blessing. I would not have caught nearly as many fish had I had a barbed hook.
The smallest fish measured in at just about double a Grumpy Frumpy, the largest being about 8-10"s.
It was not a matter of quality over quantity, or even quantity over quality.
It was a balance of small fish, pretty fish, remoteness, scenery, and an easy estimate of thousands of fish per mile of stream.
The final tally was just 7 Rainbows... and 582 Brookies. My best day was 189 fish in 180 minutes and totaled out at 201 for the day. That equates to 1 fish every minute and five seconds for three consecutive hours. With that type of action leaning to insanity I questioned the legality of catching so many fish. This just had to be illegal.
There is no doubt there will be a return trip next year.
As always in the end catching fish is just the bonus to the adventure, scenery and experience. The solitude and time to think was immense. So glad I brought some books along with me otherwise my little mind would have been going 100 different directions rather than the usual 20.

Hog Hotel, Kerplackistan, Utah

The Park City Food and Wine Classic took a lot out of me, my liver is still a tad bit angry. I was supposed to fish with my boss and some suppliers but found myself not wanting to get out of bed... ever. It was the right move to stay where I was. So, when B.G. sent the text to go fish Sunday I was all in. It had been almost a full year since I had fished with B.G. and I was not going to pass up the opportunity to go. B.G. taught me how to fish, and when a Jedi Master asks you for something you do it!
It was also nice that he wanted to head out at 8 in the morning. I remember being up at 6, 5, or even 4 in the a.m. to meet up with B.G. and get after it. Honestly I see 4 am through the night now more than waking up to see it. We hit the road and headed to Kerplackistan. On the way I reminisced about the weekend past and the great time I had had at the P.C.F.&W. Classic, and how I was still kicking myself over some of the events of said weekend... a whole other story not to be told. As we hit the water it began to get hot hot hot. The fish were not holding in the usual places one would think to find them. As B.G. and I would figure out rather quickly they were hiding in the holes and cut banks along the edges. B.G. quickly referred to these as "Hog Hotels" as they were just that. Hogs hanging just waiting for the biggest fly one could chuck their way. Then, kerplack! They would nail it hard. We fished one stretch with good results. The fishing was not on fire, but when you did hook up it was onto a good size, fat, strong fish. We ended the run and relocated. Same story, different stretch. We got to about the end of our day but I had the mentality of "come on, I just want to get one more, just one." So, on the last portion of Kerplackistan, 'bam' a hit, I set the hook but let go of my line and it began to spool out. Caught it, gathered it in and snap, fish gone... poor hook set. We worked hard for all our fish and it was well worth it.
Needless to say I cannot wait to hit the water with B.G. again soon!

Happy 4th

Could not make up my mind... stay home and party all weekend or go camping and fishing. Well, I split the time and took an all day fishing adventure. Spoke with B.G. before heading out and took his direction on where to go.
Once there and rigged up I began the hike, I looked at my watch and decided 30-45 minutes of walking would be sufficient river to fish. On my way down I walked bye another person on the ridge looking down into the river and we only exchanged a nod... I think we were both surprised to see each other. I got down into the water and started fishing back to the truck. (about 6 hours of fishing back) It seems every time I fish it is a minimum 12 hour day.
The fishing was slow, and I couldn't figure out why, throughout the day I threw everything at them. 4 different stimulators, Grumpies, Green Drakes, Stone flies, every color combo of the Raggedy Andy, and I think I also through the kitchen sink at them. They all seemed to work at different times, but nothing consistent.
So, as I made my way along I noticed three fish rising in a pool, then I noticed a man sitting in the weeds, smacking on a pipe. He came down to me and started to talk about the next hole and he was giving it a break. His name was Scott, very nice, used bamboo rods and has the same thought process about fishing I do... keep it safe, keep it secret. He too was having a tough day and said he had fished it yesterday and it was on fire, phenomenal, and unrelenting. What a difference a day makes. We both agreed to jump each other for the rest of the day and share the river, and give each other the peace and solitude we both desire on a river. Some people are just so cool when they "get it."
As I said the fishing was sporadic, total count was a dozen fish, so about two an hour. The best was a measure 23"-er that kicked my ass. I made three runs down river trying to land him. Fell into a deep whole and got my socks wet, then got him into the net. So glad to have landed him, the highlight of the day.