Every angler has to have their own secret spot and I found mine. It’s not really secret because the likes of John Gierach have fished it, but he, like me, will not give away its location to the general public. Why? This river simply cannot handle a large clientele without losing all its charm and forcing the fish into hiding.
The drive to the river was on a four-wheel drive road that I would never have attempted myself (thanks to our guide Troy for making that happen.) Not only were there huge ruts but we had to cross the river several times to get to where we wanted to fish.
When we arrived stream side, the water was gin clear and the fish were abundant. However, if you approached it in any other style than extremely stealthy, you could say goodbye to the fish for several hours. That’s why the river is really suited to only one or two anglers a day.
Even in the middle of October, these fish were hungry and eagerly rose to our fancy “hippie stompers,” a beautiful dry fly with a purple tinge. If you didn’t get your cast right the first time, you would be really lucky if the fish allowed you a second try.
Our guide was a true modern day mountain man, earning his living as a fishing guide in the summer and a trapper in the winter. More about him in the guide column. He was so aware of our surroundings – constantly checking the high cliffs for mountain lions (which he’s seen before in this spot) as well as other wildlife. We saw lots of tracks but nothing more than a deer.
No map with this river – and we’ll just call the River of No Name.
