Editor’s note: An eight-day quest took outdoors editor Charlie Meyers on a wandering tour of six rivers in four states. This is the last of his accounts from the trip. For previous stories on the Bitterroot, Henry’s Fork, Clark Fork, South Fork Snake and Upper Snake rivers, visit the links below the top-right photo.
Dutch John, Utah – The world’s largest fishing aquarium was open for business, but not exactly business as usual.
Tails waving languidly in crystal-clear water above blond sand, the rainbow and brown trout of the Green River below Flaming Gorge Dam looked like something from an undersea travelogue.
When a boat bearing three eager fishermen flashed past, these neon creatures barely gave us a look, having seen our kind many times before. This first day after April Fools’ marked the final stop on a weeklong tour of six famous rivers in four states.
Fittingly, I had saved the best for last. By any measure, the Green holds more trout than any other river in the region. Trouble is, they’re getting progressively harder to catch.
“These fish are getting smart. You need the perfect presentation, at least this time of year,” declared Terry Collier, taking first turn at the oars.
Two weeks before the start of the heralded baetis hatch and a couple of months before the really big bugs come out to play, the river was showing its stubborn side – fewer insects, less obvious action by those luminous creatures finning below.
But there’s also a pleasant side to the Green River in early spring. Lacking the usual entomological come-ons and facing uncertain weather, most anglers stay home. As a result, your fly might be the first fraud a trout has seen in a couple of days, a situation highly conducive to getting a take, or at least a nod.
Casting to visible fish offers the ultimate interest, and challenge, for an angler. When this panorama includes dozens of trout in every direction, with the added distraction of towering vermillion cliffs, both the delight and difficulty grow exponentially.
No matter the catch, the 7-mile journey through Red Canyon invariably produces a feeling of visiting one of nature’s grand shrines.
That the fishing isn’t what it once was suggests a topic of comparison that crashes on the rocks of conjecture. Fact is, no river is what this once was – a place where even the most clumsy caster could expect numerous fish over 5 pounds, perhaps more than 10.
For some reason likely tied to unfavorable flow regimes and perhaps even angling pressure, Green River trout are in a stage of shrinking. Twenty-inchers increasingly are difficult to find, and the 18-inchers so common a few years ago have dwindled to 16.
In what will be another dry year in the basin, flows are expected to remain a relatively low 800 cubic feet per second for much of the season.
“I’d like to see the river at 2,000,” Collier opined. “It floats better at that level, and the fish don’t get beaten up.”
Another consideration in trout size is the absence of the annual big-bite invasion by cicadas, largely missing since the July 2002 fire that burned 20,000 acres on both sides of the river. The equally anticipated Mormon cricket, another super-sized meal, also has been an unreliable visitor.
“Cicada and cricket imitations still work, and we encourage our guests to come later, when the big bugs are out. It makes for easier fishing,” said Collier, who has added a Flaming Gorge Reservoir component to his guide service.
Even in the chill of early April, trout demonstrated an eye for a monster meal. Sensitive fish that earlier had demanded a Befus Parachute mayfly imitation trailing a Barr Emerger played dumb when Collier offered a large foam ant.
These trout, now predominately browns, played the fools in April and may be even grander dummies when the weather warms in late May and June. The thing about fish that live in glass houses is that you never know for sure.
Charlie Meyers can be reached at 303-954-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com.
