Fishin' on the Trail

Fishing on the Trail

W Y O M I N G

by Jim Ferguson

Wyoming's mountain men, who guided pioneering parties across the Oregon Trail and opened the pathway for the first

transcontinental railroad, have been replaced by the outfitters, guides and "dude ranchers'' who cater to the state's large tourist trade. A splendid opportunity to fish for trout - cutthroat, rainbows and brooks - all on one summer trip beckoned. Kim Bright, a guide, rancher, outfitter and angler, had told me stories about the large trout of the Bridger-Teton National Forests and the offer to come catch
some of these beauties was irresistible.

Day 1:

Things to do

Look for best angle to photograph the lodge.

Get gear to corral for packing.

Select horse and ride to High Camp.

For the most part I am an early riser. Most of the time not only do I get up with the chickens but I usually awaken them. The first morning I got up and left my room for the living/dining room of the lodge, thinking this would be a time I could develop some idea on how to present this package editorially and photographically. I do my best work in the morning and the earlier the better. So does the morning cook. She met me at the door with a cup of fresh coffee. So now with the proper motivation I went out scouting the best place to shoot the lodge shot.

Perhaps I should mention that I had not been to this lodge before and I didn't exactly know how the story would progress, or in fact if there was a story to be told. As I walked around the lodge, down by the corral and barns I saw the beauty of Boulder Canyon with the sun just breaking the horizon and the horses running across the pasture. I thought "this is the place."

After breakfast in the lodge I had to get the gear that I was going to take up to High Camp down to the corral. Unfortunately for some poor mule, my gear with the cameras, tripod, three fly rods, fishing vests and all the clothing for a week looked more like the items on a baggage conveyor at DFW airport than the necessities one would need for a week in the wilderness. I said, "Writers need more than most because when we come up we are here to work, not to have a good time, so I need my tools of the trade." Those words fell like silent raindrops and I could hear, in the back of the barn, someone hollering, "Who's bringing all this garbage." I left knowing my gear was in capable hands.

Samson, a steed, would be my trusty mount for the week. I knew I was in for trouble when I went to swing into the saddle. The wrangler - the same one whose voice bellowed from the back of the barn - handed me the reins and a riding crop and said, "Here is your steering wheel and accelerator pedal." What a sense of humor, I thought, until about 12 miles out when Samson ran out of gas and needed some positive reinforcement to finish the last six miles.

Day 2:

Things to do

Get sunrise shots of round top.

Catch cutthroats for photos.

Observe wildlife and photograph.

Interview other guests on the trip.

The morning sun was just breaking over Mount Victor (12,254 feet). It was 5:15 exactly when I saw the shot I knew would portray the beauty and grandeur of the Bridger Wilderness Area. As I walked around the lake in the early morning and listened, I could hear the world awaken. Down in the valley I saw a coyote running with something in its mouth. About 15 minutes later, high up on a ledge, I could hear the sounds of her babies yelping and howling, excited that mom had returned with breakfast. I had been standing there since first seeing the coyote and had not moved. I turned slowly to see what had made a noise off to my right. Looking at me was a large mule deer buck still in the velvet about 150 yards away.

Trout were rising everywhere. I couldn't take it any longer. I donned my wading shoes and vest, and grabbed my 4-weight Sage, heading for a point where I saw some fish working. I tied on a yellow humpy and made my first cast. Wham!!! The 15-inch cutthroat took my fly, I set the hook and the 4-weight rod bucked against the strain of the air trying to throw the fly. It landed twisting and turning, churning the water to a froth before leaping again. Wow, what a fish. First cast, first trout - not a bad way to start the day. I caught about 20 trout from that same point.

There were three guests besides myself on the trip. Kim said he could comfortably accommodate 12 guests at High Camp - good for larger parties that may want to ride, fish and fellowship together. Because this was the first trip of the season he decided to fill the empty spaces with Darrell Walker, his father-in-law and a good egg. That's a term of endearment as well as a description of the hair on his head. Darrell said God made a few perfect heads and the rest he covered with hair.

Darrell's 16-year-old son, Pat, was our wrangler. His duties were to take care of the horses and gather firewood for the campfire. That chore caused endless discussions between him and Shorty Bacon, the cook, on how much wood it took to fry eggs, bake a pie or make coffee. Shorty thinks God made trees so there would be wood for him to use. Pat thought that if used sparingly, one 6-inch log would last at least a day - maybe two - if burned by a competent cook.

Shorty said he was glad to have Pat in camp while he knew everything as a teenager because he wouldn't have time to enjoy

him when he got older and wiser. So much for peace and serenity in camp. Shorty is almost 5-3 and 114 pounds, after supper. He's a cross between Paul Prudhome as a cook and Phil Donahue as a conversationalist. Table fare ranged from char-broiled steaks and baked potatoes to homemade bread and peach cobbler made in a Dutch oven. The peach trees in Georgia sing praises about his cobbler. His only shortcoming (sorry) was his frying pan fetish. It seems that Pat found out Shorty had a favorite 8-inch pan he used to fry eggs, and you would have thought there was a grizzly in camp until Pat finally told him where he hid it. It seemed it was a gift or something . . . I tried not to find out the details.

For the longest time I thought Kim Bright, our host, didn't sleep. He'd be up with me tending to the horses, catching an occasional trout, gathering more wood for Shorty (it was tough for Pat to keep up, let alone get ahead) and looking after all of the guests, literally catering to their every need. When I retired for the evening he was still up repairing tack or planning out our next day's trip or something. He only spoke when he thought it was necessary and one time, while pondering his next statement, I asked Shorty to get a hand mirror to check if he still was breathing.

Bright is knowledgeable about Wyoming, its history and some of its little-known facts. For instance, Wyoming is called the Equality State. The state granted women the vote in 1869 and had the nation's first woman governor in 1925. Did you know that there are more than 115 miles of riding trails in Boulder Canyon? And there are other interesting tidbits such as deer and antelope being the most widespread of the large animals . . . black and brown bear still living in most mountain ranges of Wyoming but grizzly bears rarely being found outside of Yellowstone National Park.

One day the question of Kim's sleeping was answered. We were fishing up at timberline and I had to come back to the place where we had left our horses to get my lunch and I found Kim asleep. He said he was resting his eyes from the bright sun . . . right . . .

The guests included Jack Simpson, Steve Boyle, my father Hugh Ferguson, and me. Jack Simpson is the epitome of what you would think a Californian would be like. If you looked up

"Californian" in the dictionary, it would have Jack's picture. He wants to open up a fast food restaurant that serves organic dishes. He says FASJAX has a certain ring to it for the name. You should have heard the discussions between Jack and Shorty about recipes and such. Steve Boyle is another Californian. He looked like a tall Omar Shariff , who had just fallen out of an Orvis catalog. If it had to do with fly-fishing and was in a catalog, he had it. Whenever any of us ran out of something, he was our main supplier. Once, I asked for a spare leader. He proceeded to pull out package after package of leaders from Orvis, Berkley and about 10 other companies. His hands looked like a gypsy wedding before I could stop him and select the ONE that I needed.

Hugh Ferguson, tall, dashing, quick with a smile (Dad, that's a quarter's worth) came to harass the growing population of horseflies and mosquitoes. He's not an angler but he loves to be out with me doing something, anything, and he's big enough not to need an excuse if he's not fishing. He's always been a tinkerer.. He stayed in camp one day and ended up lounging on a makeshift chair made out of an air mattress and one of Pat's logs. It seems that he had commandeered the air mattress from Shorty's bunk and in the tradition of John Wayne told Pat, "Better leave it where it is, pilgrim."

He walks with the swagger of the Duke. Some say it's from the way he sits in the saddle but I think it's from the rock Jack placed under his sleeping bag the second night in camp. Jack insisted the rock would act as a counterbalance and make him sleep better because he was sleeping with his head uphill. Later I discovered that Jack had talked Steve into sleeping with his head downhill by telling him it would rid him of his headache. Well, it didn't. It created another problem: Steve snored, sounding like fingernails scraping a chalkboard, only about three octaves lower. So when Doctor Jack gave his prescription for a headache it caused Steve to snore even louder. The first night in camp we all thought a bear was in their tent. Steve snoring, Jack yelling for him to be quiet . . .it was not a pretty sight or sound.

Day 3:

Things to do

Take a shower.

Fish for the big brook trout of Boulder Creek.

I don't know if it was the lack of company that night at dinner or the fact that my tent-mate decided to sleep under the stars that got me wondering about the pros and cons of taking a shower. See, when you're in a wilderness area, there is a lack of hot water and an abundance of ice cold water. The idea of getting my hands wet in 52-degree water to take a trout off my line was tough enough but, the thought of being in that water bathing, even if it was only up to your knees, sounded like absolute torture.

Jumping in with soap bar in one hand and wash cloth in the other seemed like a good idea at the time. I figured I might as well get it over with quick - no pantywaist inch-at-a-time for me. I'd just jump in up to my thighs and wash. When the water reached my chest I knew I had made a big mistake. What looked to be about 3 feet deep with a sandy bottom turned out to be a full 8 feet deep with a mucky bottom. I still don't know what happened to the wash cloth and the bar of soap, it was the kind that didn't float and . . . cold showers are for the young at heart.

I got to the area called still water about 9. It's a large, flat area

in Boulder Canyon where the water has some deep pools that hold some big brook trout. The creek was pockmarked with these pools. It requires some finesse to get these monsters of the deep to bite. I started off in the area just above a horse bridge built by the Forest Service and worked my way upstream.

The current was swift coming out of the still water area so not only did I have to watch my yellow humpy very closely, but I also had to watch where I placed my feet. I can remember one section of the creek that really had it in for me because it seemed like every time I put my foot on something the current pushed my foot away just enough for me to nearly fall. I'd catch my balance only to have it recur. I looked as though I was doing Swan Lake in snowshoes. So much for being quiet and graceful.

When I fish I take my fly rod and my ultra-light at the same time. My fishing vest will hold one rod while I fish with the other. It's really quite easy. The water is very clear and unless you're trying out for the moose ballet company you need to be as quiet as possible. The larger brook trout tend to feed early and late so plan on spending the day. Standing on a sandbar I sent a royal humpy across the deep pool to an eddy area just to the right of the riffles that provide the main source of water and nourishment to this emerald green haven for big trout. The fly drifted near a big rock, a big hole opened up under it and a 3-pound brook raced for deep water. I was able to turn her back toward the sandbar one time before she gave an aerial display of her abilities. White fins flashing, against the emerald water let me know she was far from giving up. Twice the big brook ran from my feet to the center of the big pool.

Finally I slipped my wet hand under the belly of the trout and took her vital statistics: 20 1/4 inches. What a beauty. I saw one larger than her that afternoon but none of my flies tempted it. That day I caught and released more than 50 brook trout. They ranged in size from 10 inches to just more than 20 1/4. The largest weighed just more than 3 pounds and I caught five or six that weighed right at 2 pounds. Oh yes, the ultra-light. When the trout were not rising, I would put a 1/6 oz. Panther Martin spinner (yellow) on my UL and have a ball. There weren't 25 casts I made that day that didn't result in at least one hit. Usually there were two or three pan-sized trout following it back on every cast.

Day 4:

Things to do

Fish for large cutthroats in Europe Canyon.

We made it to timberline about 10 o'clock, tethered the horses and went fishing. Walker Blanton had told us about these cutthroat that were at the headwaters of this lake above timberline in a place called Europe Canyon. He said our only problem fishing for them would be the wind. It blows at a constant 20 mph at that elevation (10,741). Fishing a dry royal humpy or black wooly worm would be difficult but we were willing to try. The fishing was outstanding just as he had said and so were the winds. We were able to help our casting by using a weight-forward line with a 3 x 7 1/2 foot tapered leader.

That rig helped our presentation and we were able to land 15

trout up to 3 pounds. When the wind finally got to the point where I was catching one fisherman, three rocks and 12 bushes to one fish, I decided to move downstream to a place where I could work some of the pools and riffles below the lake and would be out of the wind. The canopy along this section of the stream eliminated most of the wind problems. I got to a large pool on the bend of the stream and saw several trout at the head of the pool. I sent a Royal Wulff just ahead and slightly to the left of the fining trout. The angle was perfect and a big bow came up and took the fly. What a monster. Nearly 19 inches in length and brightly colored . It was the finish of probably the best trip I had ever been on. The rest of the day and into the night I wallowed in satisfaction of knowing I had truly been to Anglers Heaven.

If you would like to experience a once in a lifetime fishing trip contact Kim and Kathy Bright at Boulder Lake Lodge in Pinedale, Wyoming or checkout their web site at www.boulderlake.com. You'll be glad you did. Also, when you go, a 4 or 5 weight four piece pack fly rod is more than sufficient or if you prefer to spin-cast a light action rod two piece is best. My line of preference is Trilene 4-6 pounds for spinning and you can use a tapered leader down to 3-4 pound test for flies. I prefer Humpies, yellow or red 12-14 in size for dry fly fishing. My second choice is a Royal Coachman or a Royal Wulff. If you're spin fishing use a 5/16 Panther Martin or smaller in yellow, red or black and in that order. Since there aren't any sporting goods shops at 11,000 feet make sure you bring plenty. of leaders, flies, spinners and line. You can use tennis shoes and shorts if you like, but I'd take a light pair of neoprene waders and wading shoes. When I was there in July there was still ice on half of the lake so you

can imagine how cold the water is. Since it rains most afternoons take rain gear, a sleeping bag good to 0 degrees. It's easier to leave it open if you' re too warm than it is to wish you had a warmer one. In your diddy bag make sure you bring plenty of insect repellent. The atmosphere at high camp is very comfortable and the lodge gets my five star rating. Book early for the 2005 season because it will fill up fast.