This morning we woke up truly early. Set an alarm and everything! By the time the fly shop opened, we were waiting outside the door to get set up with my fishing licenses for the next few days and to get the low-down on what the fish were eating and where to go. Thankfully, Don at Jesse Brown’s had prepped me as well as could be expected being a few thousand miles away. Most of the flies he had suggested were right on target- it was only the experience that I was lacking.
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| Trout Creek Flies |
For the last few days I had opened up to Sam about what a big deal it was to have the chance to fish the Green River. Working in a fly fishing shop meant that every day I was surrounded by fishing gear, videos, stories, pictures, and tips- it had been hard to fight the urge to fish every stretch of water we passed. To compound that, I felt the need to make a pilgrimage to the place where my grandfather had gone personally with Don from the shop to fish, and had the most fun possibly of his life. Ever since I started fishing, I was told stories of the fabled Green River, and even still, how he wants to fish the river again before he dies. It was hard to truly describe to Sam how fishing and especially catching fish on this river could mean so much to me when her interest in fishing rivaled that of her interest in collecting Thomas Kincade paintings (just so we’re clear, we both HATE Thomas Kincade paintings).
Due to my general level of failure in my most recent fishing trips, Sam could tell that I would have a very hard time going home should I fail to catch fish here. Obviously the biggest reason why we had not planned to go on a guided trip all along was financial. We had been saving up for our road trip, and talking ourselves out of spending money at literally every turn. Yet to my ecstatic surprise, when the shop manager pushed their guided trips even a little, Sam leaned over and whispered in my ear that if I wanted to roll all my presents for the next year into one, she would pay half of the cost of a day’s float trip for us both. As we filled out the paperwork and prepared our personal gear, the manager even chipped in our breakfast- the most delicious bacon egg cheese and hashbrown on bagel sandwiches I’ve ever tasted!
I felt as though I was floating on air the entire day after that! Our guide was named Curtis Brown, a younger guide who had been quietly tying flies in the corner of the shop while he drank his morning coffee. In the shop while we waited for the sun to begin warming the water, he spoke very little to us, answering any questions that I asked, but volunteering little information of his own. The trip included lunch, so we loaded the drift boat while we waited for the kitchen staff to pack our lunches into the cooler. After a final trip to the bathroom, (just to make sure) we climbed into his enormous turbo-diesel Dodge Ram and took off towards the river with the trailer in tow.
We reached the put-in within 15 minutes at the base of the tallest dam I had ever seen which retained the entirety of the Flaming Gorge Reservoir. The power company was releasing water at a breakneck pace to prepare the lake for the immense amount of snow melt expected this spring. In addition to the water that flows through the turbines and is released at the very base of the dam, two of the overflow pipes were wide open- releasing millions of gallons per minute in the form of twin jets, 8 feet in diameter rocketing water out of the side of the structure nearly 40 feet before they fell down and met the rest of the river. Extending up from the top of the dam was the “elevator” a unique selection system used to keep the river temperature optimal for the 15,000 trout per mile that live there. This elevator works by adjusting the depth of the lake from which the water is drawn into the dam and subsequently passed out into the river.  |
| Sam's first EVER trout caught on the fly! |
Talking about these features revealed that our guide Curtis was rather disenchanted with the power company because although the infrastructure existed to keep the fish and the fishermen happy, they still seemed to make decisions based on financial gain rather than concern for the environment.
As we launched the boat and parked the truck and trailer, I was excited to see my first trout since leaving Charlotte! Standing in a patch of sunlight I found in the chilly canyon, it was not difficult to look into the water and pick out half a dozen large trout swimming lazily in their holding patterns just inside the calm water of the eddy. As with most lakes and dams, the dam here was located where the canyon walls were closest to each other- making the construction of the dam easiest.
As we found the first available eddy, our rather stern guide softened up and explained that he would facilitate our trip more from the role of teacher than the traditional assumption of what a guide does. As it turned out, that was exactly what I had been hoping for, and precisely what Sam was going to need to make this trip fun for her. After explaining some of the basic fundamentals of nymphing, we set off down the river. Because of the high water level, it would have taken us no time at all to shoot from start to finish, so we paced ourselves- fishing each promising spot as we glided down the river. 
Sam caught her first trout before I did but both of us were productive through the first few eddies. What took me totally by surprise was the average size of the fish here! With Curtis’ help, we landed fish after fish (all rainbows and browns) over 15 inches- each one vibrant and healthy. Having only ever fished in the small streams of western North Carolina, these fish were enormous! 
When we pulled over for lunch and our guide cooked lunch for us (Philly cheese steak sandwiches,) I could barely calm down enough to eat. I was unused to having a meal prepared on a camp stove- that I did not help prepare, and it took a little bird to remind me that the food might have been more important to our guide who had to do all the work, than for me. |
| The biggest catch of the day! |
As the day wore on, I continued soaking up both the sun and the simple pleasure of floating such a beautiful river. The high temperature was in the 80’s which felt perfect when the cool breeze blew off of the cold river water.
As we neared the end of our trip, the river had flattened out only slightly and grown a good bit wider. With the boat ramp in sight, Curtis asked that we pull the lines in and gather our things. I reluctantly began reeling in my line as I saw Sam hook up with something big! As she fought the monster, her coach was pre-occupied rowing the boat towards our exit point. Keeping her rod tip up and working the fish the whole time, she managed to hold the brown all the way into the net held by our guide. He held the net while standing ankle deep next to the boat on the boat ramp, having jumped out after we arrived to land the fish.
A grand finale to the day, Sam had landed a 19 inch brown trout in a stretch of surprising water. After cleaning up, we found our campsite and dined on fresh rainbow trout baked in tin-foil with lemons and herbs. Sleep would no doubt come easy after such a memorable day. 
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