Spent the last week high up in the San Juan Mountains, fishing small streams and creeks, or cricks as we used to call them in rural Oregon. I lived in my Jeep, literally, as I took the passenger seat and back seat out, put down some foam padding and slept in it wherever I ended up when the day was done.
I did a lot of exploring, choosing from the hundreds of streams that come tumbling out of the San Juans. Interesting observations of some streams that had perfect looking water, but not a single rise. Other streams that looked OK, and a fish in every likely spot. The main difference was the biomass of food. By 10 am the streams that were flush with fish all had clouds of midges, mayflies, and caddis flies. The others were almost void of hatches. I didn’t see any obvious reasons for the difference.
A hopper dropper was effective in almost all cases, and most of the time I took the dropper off. Foam body caddis worked well too. Some streams I could step right out of my Jeep and start fishing, others I would hike a mile upstream through the brush choked banks to get to the more open areas.
I caught brook trout, browns, and wild rainbows. It was a blast to see 10 to 14 inch wild fish explode on my fly, and fight with great enthusiasm. Often doubling over my 8.5 foot TFO, 5 weight rod.
It was nice and cool up there, requiring a hoody sweatshirt or even a coat in the morning. A couple days were blown out by afternoon severe weather. The next day would be spent driving to different drainages to find a stream that was clear enough to fish.
A fun trip, and I only scratched the surface for the number of streams to fish. Can’t wait to go back.
