The First Stream

I had lived in SW Utah for more than 4 years and never fished the stream closest to my house; that changed today. After grabbing a local taco and tamale from Amelia's I headed up the canyon road for twenty minutes and parked the car.

It took about ten minutes to negotiate the descent, set up the rod and find a hole to practice my first cast into a current. Was shocked at how much gradient and how fast the current moved in this 12-18 inch "stream". The little crick is located in a small bedrock and silt walled canyon that falls off the Markagunt Plateau. The aspens were bright yellow, the oak brush radiated a vibrant red and the cascading creek was calling my name.

My first cast was dead-on accurate but a little splashy to attract the small and wild rainbows found here. I quickly adopted the "Tenkara style" of casting a few times and moving up current if fish showed no interest. Within about five minutes I delicately placed the nymph in the swift current and drifted it by a foot deep hole. I felt the tug before I saw the indicator sink. I tried to lightly set the hook but either the fish spit it out or I pulled too hard; the red copper john whipped back at me with attitude. I tried again but I had made my presence known to the bows in this section.

I slowly stalked up to the next cascade and laid the nymph right in the notch above the drop. The indicator dropped, floated downcurrent for a few sections and then sunk. A light tug and...the copper john whipped back at me with even more attitude. I reacted with a quick cast and was rewarded with a line stuck in the pine branch above. I slowed myself down a notch or two, set the rod delicately down and grabbed the slack above the lilian. A few light tugs; a few moderate pull; a little too much tension and the line whipped back at me without any weight. The white indicator and the copper john permanently rest about 10 feet above the creek.

At this point I am shocked and my joy diminishes as a handle a ten foot section of fly line that has been reduced to 3 feet by enough meanders to make the goosenecks of the San Juan River jealous. I slow down....and have an epiphany that works a like magic on the line. It turns out being a canyoneering guide pays off as I know intuitively how to fix the line in a few short strokes (I'll explain at the end).

I attach a new fly and decide to fish without an indicator. This summer was the first time I nymphed without an indicator and I have learned to love fishing by touch; it only makes sense to remove the most obtuse element of the system on such a small stream with spooky fish. I move about fifteen feet up stream, cast into the current above the next pool....

and.....BAM... it feels like I hooked a concrete section of Hoover Dam. I set the hook lightly and lift. To my amazement the fish dives into a nook under a boulder but is easily coerced by a slight angle on the rod. It swims down current right to my feet. Doesn't get easier than that. In my hands (I forgot my net) is a beautifully colored rainbow trout about 9 inches long. Probably the healthiest trout I have ever laid eyes on. I remove the hook and release it into the current upriver. I smile.

Over the next half hour I move upstream, change to dry flies and catch 2 more bows. The best moment is a dead-ringer into a hole 10 feet away; the slot to cast is no more than 6" wide, bordered by rocks on one side and a giant pine snag on the other. The dry floats for about 6 inches and sinks. The little rainbow darts down stream, jumps a cascade and ends up at my feet. The hook removes easily and I set it into the pool. It moves back and forth for several seconds then remembers the chemical trail of his former hiding spot.

Shortened rod in hand I work may back down canyon to my truck with a great sense of success and the buzz of several new lessons learned:

1) When detangling the fly line it is most effective to start from the bottom with the end hanging free. This allows the kinks to "escape". Start a few inches further up towards the lilian and repeat. It only took about 30 seconds for all the kinks to be gone.

2) An adaptive approach to casting is mandatory on these extremely small SW streams. I became extremely sensitive of my surroundings (canyon walls, overhanging branches, etc). While at moments the stream was clear enough to do a traditional cast, more often than not I would do a modified roll cast. Most fish were caught this way. I even managed to land one fish caught with one section sunk into the base. I thoroughly appreciated slowing myself down and being intentional with my casting choices. All too often with my western fly rods I get sloppy but still catch fish. I only caught fish in this stream when I was intentional with how and where I cast.

3) Tenkara is addictive!

The Rod

It has been years since I have been this excited about anything related to fishing. For the past summer my long time friend, and born-again fly fisherman, Dave C. has been hitting the Montana and Idaho backcountry with a packraft, Tenkara rod and fast feet. I initially ignored his sensational review of the Amago rod he had purchased and almost failed to notice its unique design and style: no reel, extremely long and minimal line. That was until he started posting photos on his blog of narrow streams and small fish; even before I broke my 4 wt fly rod I never managed any success with such small streams. Dave is talented and a quick learner but above all he is willing to experiment with new (or in this case, revitalized very old) technology. He unknowing gear tested Tenkara rods for me on his adventures (and I got to live in his trips vicariously). I used a broken tip on my 6 wt rod and my anniversary gift from my wife as an excuse to purchase the TenkaraUSA 12' Iwana from a Wildflys in Northern Utah. Three days later the rod arrives and I am contemplating adventure.

Autumn in SW Utah provides both challenges and benefits to fly fisherman not willing to be distracted by the upcoming ski season. While some of the best known fishing streams and lakes freeze up, or become inaccessible, the myriad of small streams at lower elevations come into season. The fact that these streams receive very little pressure and remain moderately warm makes them extremely enticing. So as my friends to the north start packing up their gear (or heading closer to the coast) I begin hunting wild trout with a vengeance.

This next week finds me on a forced vacation somewhere in Southern Utah with plenty of time to hone the new Tenkara techniques in some small streams. Though exact locations are changing, as a wet cold air mass moves into the region, I have not doubt some beautiful scenery and fish will be found.

A new rod, a new fishing philosophy, a very old 14' trailer, some Jameson and week of fishing.