Idaho’s St. Joe River made for fall fishing

Idaho’s St. Joe River made for fall fishing

December 22, 2008
By Dallas Cross

I left Issaquah in mid-September four days earlier than needed to meet my brother-in-law to fly fish near Dillon, Mont. This allowed me time to visit family in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, and to fish the nearby St. Joe River. I packed my vintage VW camper bus, put on a hippie headband, practiced the V-hand sign and headed east, arriving at Coeur d’Alene late in the afternoon.
The next day, I drove to Avery on the St. Joe River. There, I was advised that the road up ahead on the river was closed due to a landslide. Driving up the river five miles, I found that indeed a huge mound of earth and rocks had buried the road just above where Prospector Creek dashingly joins the river.

The only road to the catch-and-release stretch of the river I had planned to fish was now blocked by about a quarter-mile of debris.

Uncertain of the rules applying to fishing the river below the catch-and-release area, I drove back down the road until I observed a woman fishing next to a rocky cliff. She was beautifully casting a tight-looped line with a Parachute Adams fly on it. After two fish jumped off her hook, she paused to inform me that the fishing season on this portion of the river was still open but cutthroat trout had to be released.

Now confident that I would not be hauled in for poaching, I returned to the slide area and planned to fish above and below it by walking and wading for the next two days. In this stretch, the river drops rapidly and runs fast in chutes between holes. With the water level down, some of the runs below the deep holes were waist high, offering opportunities to wade the river.
At Avery, I had been advised that cutthroat prefer the rapids, so I concentrated my casting in shallow, fast water where I could see rocks.

From a visit two years earlier, I knew what to expect in mid-September. The bug hatch starts after the sun warms the canyon and is soon followed by surface-feeding trout.
The canyon is so deep that the sun hits the river around three in the afternoon, warming it until the shadows fall at five, making a short window of fishing time. Having arrived in early afternoon, I hurried and managed to catch and release two cutthroat using an all-purpose, orange stimulator dry fly.

Shortly thereafter, the shadows, temperature and fish interest all fell at once and I headed back.
On the way back to the camper I paused to look at a huge boulder overhanging the river. Beneath it, I had, two years earlier, tried to catch a large trout working the surface for floating bugs.

At that time, I had cast to the area without success from across the river and then waded back and climbed on top of the boulder. From there, I had stealthily dappled a hair wing Adams fly on the surface of the water 10 feet below, bouncing the fly several times before it attracted attention.

As I was lifting the fly off the surface, two large cutthroat trout with mouths agape leaped at it. They cleared the water at the same time from opposite directions and collided in midair with an audible slap. They startled each other and me as well, causing me to yank the fly well out of their reach and lose my balance on the boulder.
Under full steam, the two fish took off in opposite directions and mirthfully I had to hold on to the boulder to keep from falling. Knowing I could not improve on the memory of this delightful past event, I continued walking on to the camper.

There were many roadside camping sites along the river, some with no occupants. So, I chose a site near the landslide area, but prudently far enough away not to get caught by an encore. Finding any vacant site a couple of weeks earlier, during the throes of last-minute vacations, would have been a chore.

A mac-and-cheese supper in the tattered poptop camper was accompanied by river music and a rather sudden lights out when the sun disappeared behind the mountain ridge. After I went to bed, the music included a shrill whistle followed by a series of bass-cleft grunts.
A bull elk, intent on procreation, but also thirsty, was moving nearby in the night on the way to the river. Half expecting to feel the camper being rocked by his passage, I passed quickly through the anxiety of vulnerability I always feel when camping in the woods. Soothed in pine air and with quiet reflection on sounds of river and slapping fish, I slept soundly.

Reach Dallas Cross at FishJournal@aol.com.
Written by Dallas Cross · Filed Under Sports, Sports News

Denis Peirce: The big one that didn't get away at Lake Pyramid

We have just passed the winter solstice and these are the shortest days of the year. With all of the recent foul weather there have been a shortage of fishing reports coming across my desk.Many of my sources have been indoors, staying warm and dry. I have been keeping in contact with my sources for Pyramid Lake, Nev. waiting for the action to pick up. A rule of thumb is that the shore fishing will be poor until there are 10 consecutive nights of freezing temperatures. That’s what it takes to get the water temps down and bring the larger trout in to the shallows to feed. Last week, Dave Stull made plans to be at Pyramid Lake early Saturday morning.

Many members of the Gold Country Fly Fishers Club might remember Dave as a past club president during the late 1990s. He went north up the west shore beyond the end of the pavement to “Monument.” Dave had his gear set up and was casting from on top of his ladder by 7:45 a.m. The air was a brisk 28 degrees with an overcast sky. On his first few casts Dave noticed that after beginning his retrieve, the water on his fly line was turning to ice in his rod guides. Occasionally, he would have to hit the rod with the palm of his gloved hand to knock the ice off. This is the recipe for a good-sized fish at Pyramid Lake, winter, low-light conditions and stormy weather.

Dave ties his own bugger style flies for Pyramid and on Sunday he was fishing a two-fly rig. The top fly was white followed by a black point fly both in size No. 4. The technique is to cast his sinking “shooting head” fly line as far as possible and begin the retrieve after it had reached the bottom.Fifteen minutes into his day he had a solid hit but the hook did not stick. Dave immediately cast back out to the same area hoping for another shot at this fish. Retrieve ... retrieve ... retrieve ... nothing ... nothing ... nothing, his line is almost completely back in. Suddenly, he gets the take not more than 15 feet from his rod tip. Before he knows it, the fish has him all the way into his backing, a run of almost 100 feet. This was the first of three runs. Each successive run was shorter and less powerful than the first. Dave had planted his ladder at the limit of his chest high waders. He got off the ladder and began working his way back to the beach. The danger at this time is that the fish will seek refuge at any available structure. On a beach at Pyramid Lake, ladders are the only option and bigger fish have been lost after getting wrapped up in a ladder and breaking off. Dave successfully navigated the fish inside of the ladders and headed for the shore.It took 12 minutes to beach the beast. The best way to land a fish of this proportion is to back up to the beach well above the water’s edge and slide it onto the sand. Attempting to hoist a fish this large is a good way to break your line or a rod.

For those who are not familiar with Pyramid Lake cutthroat trout, the big February Derby at Crosby Lodge has frequently been won with a 12- to 13-pound fish with the 25th place fish coming in at the 8-pound range. Dave Stull’s 15-pound, 32.5 inch trout is truly the fish of a lifetime at Pyramid Lake. Dave’s strategy was to present a black fly chasing a white minnow in the shallows. He was hoping to target big trout chasing minnows in the shallows. This was a winning combination. Maybe the only thing he could have done to improve his odds would have been to increase the size of his fly. His trophy cutthroat had a freshly caught 8-inch tui chub in his stomach.Maybe there is a lot to the saying “big fish, big fly.” Merry Christmas Dave, and many happy returns.

Denis Peirce writes a weekly fishing column for The Union and is host of “The KNCO Fishing & Outdoor Report,” which airs 6-7 p.m. Fridays and 5-6 a.m. Saturdays on 830-AM radio. Contact him via e-mail at dpeirce@theunion.com.