Grand Canyon--Trout Not Wanted Here, January 2012

With the arrival of January and 2012, I figured I had better get the fishing season started off in the right direction, in more ways than one. This is the first entry I have posted in some time, and reflects my intention to publish current and future fishing expeditions in a timely manner. Moreover, I will be updating the site with trips preceding this year, starting with July 2010, so for those interested, stay tuned.

I began the year with a trek back into the Grand Canyon via the Bright Angel Trail in the first week of the month, to pay my respects to the stunning landscapes, the sweeping Colorado River, and of course Bright Angel Creek. As with every trip here, I was again struck by the immensity and grandeur of the place. Cliff formations seemed to loom and spread outward indefinitely in bold hues. Both of these images were taken in the vicinity of Indian Gardens, en route to the river below. The weather was marvelous, mild and sunlit throughout the trip--one of those times that an angler needs to find an excuse to get away and zen out on the water if possible, particularly in the winter.

Eventually, I made it down to the mighty Colorado--a section of Silver Bridge spans the river below. The river was running high and turbid from dam releases above, and runoff from sediment-laden upstream tributaries. Regardless of these conditions (or perhaps because of them), some fish could be coaxed to a streamer, given the right holding water and fly presentation.

Right around the corner, I was greeted once more by lovely Bright Angel Creek. This is the view downstream through the campground. As the picture attests, the campground was not full--the middle of winter offers a measure of solitude that is hard to find much of the rest of the year at this location.

I made the trip here for a few reasons, among them checking in on the current state of the trout fishery in the creek and river immediately downstream. As the following photo illustrates, a weir was in place across Bright Angel, just below the lower bridge crossing and campground.

A National Park Service sign pictured below informs visitors of the ongoing trout reduction program in the creek. This subject is deserving of discussion, and has already been covered by anglers on other blog sites, notably 111 Degrees West, The Trout Zone, and arizonafly.com. I will try to refrain from devoting too much time on the topic, particularly since the sites above write at least as eloquently about the subject as I could. Suffice to say, trout reduction efforts were reinstated in Bright Angel Creek in the fall and winter of 2010 after a short reprieve in 2008 and 2009, in the name of native fish restoration (particularly for the federally endangered humpback chub). Reduction efforts include the weir that captures brown and rainbow trout migrating up from the Colorado River to spawn in the creek, and electroshocking "treatments" upstream from the weir approximately two miles to the vicinity of the Phantom Creek confluence. These efforts are focused primarily in October-early February to coincide with brown trout spawning activity (although electroshocking is also periodically applied in the stream in spring and summer), and all trout (rainbows and browns) captured with these methods are killed by NPS staff and used for consumption.

Okay, so here is my soapbox for a paragraph, and then I will resume with writing about the fishing trip itself. For my part, I find it hard to stomach the reduction efforts, a response due in part to my admittedly biased personal perspective as a fly fisher that loves wild trout, even if they are introduced, nonnative species in the Grand Canyon. However, my reaction also stems from my perspective as a wildlife conservation professional, that sees a project aimed at attacking the symptoms but not the cause of an ecological problem--namely, trout are thriving in an altered, tailwater system that does not favor the long term survival of native species like the humpback chub that evolved in a turbid, warm water Colorado River unhindered by dams. Given that dams along the Colorado (and particularly Glen Canyon Dam upstream of the Grand Canyon) have no likelihood of being removed in the foreseeable future due to their numerous benefits to people, and agencies like the National Park Service have a mandate to protect and restore endangered species, trout are the easy target in the short term. Certainly, the humpback chub is a unique species, and deserves conservation and restoration efforts, but without the proper habitat (i.e. a restored, free-flowing Colorado River without dams), its long term existence is doubtful, regardless of whether trout populations are reduced or not. Consequently, I can't help feeling that the current management practices on Bright Angel Creek are a significant waste of time and resources, both for humpback chub and previously one of the finest wild trout fisheries in Arizona.

But enough of my personal convictions and opinions on the matter. The Glen Canyon Dam Long-Term Experimental and Management Plan (LTEMP) Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) is in the process of being prepared through the Department of the Interior, and public comments from the public are being accepted through the end of this month (January 2012). Regardless of how people stand on the matter, I would encourage folks to visit the site and contribute their suggestions on how the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon should be managed in the years to come.

So, on to the other and more immediate reasons I made the trip--fly fishing in a spectacular place, and hopefully still finding some beautiful wild trout on the end of my line. Following a fitful night of sleep at the campground, I began the next morning by prospecting with a large #4 Crawbugger on 4X in the tea-green, swirling flows of the Colorado. I drifted the streamer through a sheltered run, and received a firm pull on one cast as the fly swung back towards the shore. A large fish thrashed near the surface, trying to use its weight to break the tippet, but eventually I steered the bruiser towards shore, and brought a silvery female rainbow to hand.

The rainbow measured a solid 21" likely exceeded 3 lbs., and was reminiscent of a small steelhead in appearance and fighting ability--the Colorado River certainly breeds some impressive trout in its powerful currents.

And here the rainbow prepares to merge back into the river, to live and fight another day. Interestingly enough, the fish was relatively streamlined, and looked as if it had already spawned for the season, probably in the lowest reaches of Bright Angel Creek below the weir--from the looks of it, one less victim for the trout reduction efforts for the season.

I also ran across an older fisherman with several sons, all of them equipped with spinning outfits and rubber worm lures. I got to talking with the father for awhile, and quickly learned that he had fished the Colorado in the Canyon and up towards Lees Ferry for years, dating back to the '70s, and he provided a fascinating perspective at how the fishery has changed over the decades. He felt strongly about practicing catch and release around Bright Angel these days, given the current challenges facing the trout population--an encouraging sign. I returned up the creek from the confluence, and tied on a smaller, #10 Crawbugger to seek out more finned denizens. Sunlight had not quite found the bottom of the canyon at this point, and I was shivering from the chilly conditions.

I received the biggest surprise of the trip a bit later, in the form of a beautiful brown that taped in right at 22". The brute inhaled the Crawbugger after materializing from under a rock that hardly seemed large enough to conceal the fish. The brown charged about the stream, and yet somehow I was able to coax it to the bank in short order. Two significant points are worth noting here--the trout was healthy but somewhat slim (I guessed the fish as a female based on appearance, although that can be difficult at times with big browns), and definitely looked post-spawn. Even more intriguing was its location--without giving away specifics, I'll just say the brown was somewhere above the weir in the creek, meaning it had managed to negotiate the weir barrier to spawn, and had also avoided electroshocking. The tenacity of the fish alone made the brown deserving of release, although I wouldn't have considered keeping such a marvelous specimen in any case. I returned the big trout to the crystal clear Bright Angel Creek, and could only hope that the brown would continue to persist amidst the current management climate of trout eradication in this beautiful place.

I grabbed a quick breakfast at camp, packed myself a lunch, and proceeded up along the stream, warming up with the sun's rays that had finally penetrated the base of the Canyon.

Bright Angel Creek never ceases to be awe-inspiring in its beauty, and the simple, seemingly contradictory fact of a rushing cold stream flowing through thirsty canyon country.

Trout were relatively scarce along the lower stream through the campground and near Phantom Ranch, no doubt due to the trout reduction activities, and yet some fish could still be found, including a few that looked an awful lot like run-up rainbows from the Colorado River, such as the chunky 14" specimen in the photo above. Again, I suspect a few hardy fish managed to jump over the weir barrier rather than pass through it.

This lovely run produced a fine 13-14"rainbow that again lashed out at the Crawbugger.

And the 16" rainbow shown below was a classic spawner landed a short ways upstream of the creek confluence with the Colorado, that probably stood a slim chance of survival with the weir to greet it above. Regardless of its fate, the rainbow was a good one to end the day on, as darkness settled against the creek's music.

I started the following day early again, and wandered down towards the dull roar of the river.

This sweeping curve of the Colorado reflected the early light of the sun on the cliff tops, hundreds of feet above.

Trout from the river appeared in unexpected places, and utilized even small stretches of spawning habitat, including this scrappy 15" male rainbow, complete with a small kype and vibrant splashes of red on his gill plates and flanks.

I hiked up along Bright Angel Creek for much of the afternoon. The picturesque pool below screamed out trout, and yet appeared to be barren when I cast through the run.

The trout population did indeed seem lean along the lower two miles of Bright Angel Creek--the electroshocking efforts in the stream extend just upstream of the Phantom Creek confluence (shown in the image below), based on discussions I had with the Park fisheries biologist I ran into near the end of this trip. The biologist explained that Phantom Creek also experienced massive flash floods this past September that deposited large amounts of silt and debris in lower Bright Angel, causing significant fish kills of its own.

Some of the silt deposits were evident at the confluence, along with runs downstream that had been reconfigured. Ironically, the flash floods also appear to have created some new ideal-looking stretches of fine gravel for spawning.

Remarkably, I found a few small browns and one fat rainbow still present in Phantom Creek up to a terminal falls just upstream from the Bright Angel confluence.

I continued to make my way upstream along Bright Angel Creek, beyond the upper extent of trout removal activities, and soon the fishing improved dramatically for resident fish. The fish were somewhat smaller than their downstream counterparts, but vibrantly colored and demanding of a stealthy approach, particularly the good ones. Above, a foot-long rainbow fell for a #10 orange-bodied Neversink Caddis from a little plunge pool.

The fishing up in this section was a delight--dry flies, spooky trout in every lie affording cover and relief from the insistent currents, and a rushing canyon stream that embodied the simple joys of fly fishing.

The stream photo above shows a more detailed view of the preceding image. A good fish rose quietly in the soft water against the pink-hued boulder in the foreground. A decent hatch of #18 BWOs had been sputtering along throughout the afternoon, so I flicked a #16 gray parachute sparkle dun up into the foam line. Moments later, the trout sidled over and took the dry in an unhurried fashion.

A dark foot-long brown came to hand shortly after, and posed for the camera before release.

Another perfect-looking run spilled against a cliff wall, and I cast a #10 Neversink Caddis into the sheltered water at the head. The fly bobbed in the slack water, and then disappeared when a trout exploded on the attractor. This fish also materialized as a pretty 12" brown, but with more girth, few spots, and a pale golden sheen.

Every turn in the creek beckoned further exploration, but eventually the skies darkened with another approaching evening, and I hiked back down to the campground for my last night along Bright Angel for this trip.

I spent the next day making the ascent up and out from Bright Angel Creek and the Colorado River--the trail is swallowed up in the immense landscape.

I reflected on the current state of the Bright Angel fishery as I trudged upwards--despite the cards being stacked against them, at least some of the trout were finding ways to persist, and somehow I managed to land the two best fish I have caught to date from the Canyon. Once again, I felt fortunate beyond words just to be able to be in such a magnificent place, and find some beautiful wild trout no less.

Here is a photo of me taking a break at Indian Gardens on the hike out--weathered, tired, and content, and happy too because Regan met up with me at this point, to make the final trek upwards together. I took a picture of her as we got above the rest area, shortly before we headed back into the perpetual shade during the winter in the upper several miles of Bright Angel Trail.

And here is one final image that Regan took as we approached the South Rim, sunset painting the cliff formations in reds and golds. A great trip, and quite the beginning to a new fishing season.

Oak Creek, June 2010

I fished sparingly along Oak Creek in the month of June, as the longer days and lower clear flows of summer took hold. My first outing along the stream occurred near the start of June, coinciding with my folks coming to visit Regan and I in Flagstaff.

I was able to spend a couple of days with my dad along Oak Creek, and shared a few favorite runs with him. It was his first time casting along the stream, and he quickly gained an appreciation for the beauty of the place, and also the associated challenging fishing conditions. He soon connected with a chunky, 14-15" brown in a deeper slot, on a #18 BH Thread and Copper on 5X, and guided the trout to the shallows after several dogged runs--his first Oak Creek fish, and a fine one at that.

My dad was my first fishing partner, and we shared many fond memories seeking out wild trout together in beautiful settings. We have not been able to fish as much with each other in the past few years, so it was even more of a joy to share this time with him in a place that has become special to me. He hooked several other vibrant Oak Creek browns on this day, including a scrappy fish in the low teens that threw the hook several runs upstream of the fish above, and a few in the 9-11" range in a pocketwater stretch further north in the canyon.

I managed to get away on my own near the end of June, and fished a new favorite reach. I fooled this football-shaped female brown of 16.5" on a #10 Crawbugger, dead-drifted near the head of a productive deeper run. A #18 BH Thread and Copper was trailing off of the streamer, but for whatever reason, all of the trout caught on this day showed a definite preference for the streamer; perhaps recently hatched fry and baitfish were particularly prevalent at this time.

I reached a nice pocketwater stretch upstream, featuring a few springs that bubble into the main flow, where I have had only limited success in the past.

I found a number of good-sized rainbows here on this day, in the 12-16" range; most of these were holdover hatchery fish from the looks of them (a shriveled fin or two and drab hues), although one 13-14" male showed striking coloration, and several other smaller individuals had the sleek forms and clean fins of wild trout. I suspect the contributing springs may have attracted these fish, and also the highly-oxygenated, rough-and-tumble nature of the reach. In any case, it was an unexpected pleasure to hook a number of fine, energetic trout in quick succession, all on the Crawbugger.

I also connected with a somewhat larger rainbow that I initially spooked from a shallow backwater; the trout charged upstream, then settled into the tail of a tumbling run, where I approached it more carefully, and convinced the fish to take a well-placed streamer.

The female measured 17-18", and I suspect this rainbow may also have been of hatchery origin (perhaps a brood fish released into the stream), based on the subdued coloration and a less-muscled, slim appearance; in any case, she was still a stubborn, strong trout, and the longest rainbow I have caught to date in Oak Creek.

I found one final fish of note on this late June day holding in a compact frothing pocket amidst rushing water and boulders. The trout was clearly large and dark in coloration--I assumed it may have been a big brood hatchery male rainbow. I tossed the Crawbugger into the protected lie (about the size of a large sink), and the fish quickly turned, large jaws opening, and confidently inhaled the streamer. The bruiser immediately shook its head in an attempt to throw the hook, then charged downstream, weaving between boulders to evade capture, with me in stumbling pursuit, trying my best to steer the fish clear of obstructions. Eventually, I got a good look at the fish, and realized I was attached to a mega-sized brown. I worked against the long trout some more, finally steered the lunker into my grasp, and gazed in awe at another magnificent Oak Creek brown, this one taping out right at 22".

The long jaws and kype indicated a big male, with deep burning hues of olive, bronze, orange and gold--the sort of fish I always hope to land, but never quite expect.

This brown was a bit slimmer and more streamlined for its size than some of its other kin that I have been fortunate enough to have caught recently--I suspect he may have been holding in the pocketwater looking for some unsuspecting hatchery bows to devour.

Regardless of the factors involved in the bruiser's presence in what I would call unusual holding water for a large cagey brown, it was yet another large impressive fish to savor in my memory, and marvel at briefly in the moment, before returning him to the crystalline flows of Oak Creek.

I spotted a fellow angler upstream soon after releasing the magnificent brown, a young great blue heron that still seemed a bit unsure about how to best capture a finned meal.

The majestic bird allowed me to pass by quietly at close proximity, and even tolerated a few photos.

Oak Creek offered up some treasures for me once more in the month of June, as summer truly took hold. As it turned out, I would not be graced with the presence of the stream again, until the arrival of fall in October and November. So June completed a great run of fly fishing for me along my adopted homewater (or perhaps more appropriately, the water that adopted me into its home), lasting through the spring and early summer. I did find more wild trout in unforgettable places in the following months, both in Arizona and beyond, as the ensuing entries will illustrate.

East Clear Creek, June 2010

When it comes to Arizona, I still consider myself a novice angler; I have fished a handful of destinations with at least some success, but there are many more streams and rivers (not to mention lakes) that I have yet to explore.

One of the great things about the state is the number of rugged streams that beckon to the adventurous angler willing to put in a few miles of hiking, and offering potentially great fishing for streambred trout in wild settings. I decided to visit one of these, East Clear Creek, for the first time in early June. I had heard reports of good brown trout fishing at times, and figured it was time to test out the stream for myself.

East Clear Creek reminded me of the other major watershed draining north from the Mogollon Rim, Chevelon Creek, with its abundant stands of ponderosa pine, beautiful cliff walls flanking parts of the stream, and a wilderness setting once you made the descent into the stream canyon.

Some differences existed as well, including improved access in the form of several hiking access points, easier driving conditions, and closer proximity to human population centers. Consequently, I encountered more people on the day I hiked one of the trails down to the stream, although they thinned out completely (with the exception of one other fly fisherman headed in the opposite direction) once I wandered upstream and away from the access point (a pattern that seems to hold true with most fishing destinations). The flow seemed to be less than Chevelon as well, although the creek pooled up often, with some runs becoming more than deep enough to harbor sizable fish.

I began by catching a couple of small but chunky dark, wild rainbows on a bushy #10 Neversink Caddis in occasional small riffles and pocketwater, but focused most of my efforts in the deeper pools for the remainder of the bluebird, early summer day. I fished an attractor dry in some of the pools with little success, and finally settled on a #10 Crawbugger attached to 5X. Crayfish were thick here, no doubt providing a great food source for larger trout, but also posing a hazard to smaller aquatic flora and fauna; I noticed aquatic vegetation was sorely lacking along most of the streambed. I cast the streamer into likely holes, and used a slow strip and pause retrieve. This technique proved considerably more effective--I received strikes from several good fish in the mid to upper teens, judging from their flash and weight (presumably Browns for the most part), but unfortunately they all came free before being brought to hand.

I then happened upon one run that deepened against a cliff wall, and featured a ponderosa pine snag that had fallen into the water and created some cover. I took the time to slow down and observe, and found two large rainbow trout present; a surprise of sorts, as I expected bigger fish here to be browns. One of these was a large colorful male, the other a bruiser female in excess of 20" (one of the largest bows I have seen in the state); I suspect they may have recently been a spawning pair here this spring. In any case, the male was cruising in a circular pattern about the pool downstream of the snag, while the female seemed to stay put beside the downed timber. I made a number of short casts to both with the Crawbugger, trying to elicit a strike. The female seemed uninterested, but after much coaxing I eventually convinced the male to grab at the fly--fish on! The buck charged about the run, thrashing at the surface occasionally, and finally I managed to guide the fish to shore, where I gazed up close at a stunning rainbow, measuring a solid 20".

The male was garbed in vivd crimson on the gill plates and flanks, as the photos indicate, and showed some kype in the elongated jaws.

As it turned out, he was the one sizable fish caught on the day, and a great one at that. The rainbow felt like an unexpected gift, and on my first visit to East Clear Creek, no less.

I admired his hues and sleek form a bit longer as the trout revived, then pointed the brute back toward the pool, and watched as he finned back into the security of the shadowed run.

I suppose I am biased as a fly fishing nut that tends to prefer catch and release, but it only seems natural that a big wild spawner like the one above should be released, both to sustain the population, and because a rare large trout is so much more beautiful to behold in a stream than in a pan or on a wall mount, at least from my jaded perspective.

I passed by several other great-looking deep pools and runs, that almost certainly harbored a large trout or two, but I was unable to connect with any other fish for the day, and no browns came to hand on this visit (although I spooked a few in the 12-16" range).

I did cross paths with a fellow angler back up at the trailhead at day's end, who seemed to be a regular along this stream. He mentioned that some of the pools can really alive near dawn and dusk, when browns will rise freely for mayfly hatches and other available food items.

I encountered some gems along the creek that made the day richer, including the canyon treefrog above, and the wildflowers in a riot of color below.

Individual cactus blooms glowed amongst the rocky ground as I began the hike back up and out along the access trail, providing splashes of color and a way to end the day on a high note.

My first visit to East Clear Creek was one of those high quality, low quantity fishing days (generally the way I prefer it, given the choice) along a scenic canyon stream, harboring some intriguing fishing possibilities, combined with a measure of solitude--all qualities I treasure when pursuing trout. I suspect I will be revisiting this creek in the near future, in search of a few more of its finned inhabitants.