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Incredible Fish Creek |
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By Dave Webb
(As published in Utah Fishing magazine)
Did the planets align on July 26th? Some remarkable phenomenon must have occurred that day because I went fishing and everything worked out perfectly. I mean I caught fish — nice sized fish — and had a really great time. The fish were the expected payoff for the trip. But a couple unexpected treats made this outing extra special. When I climbed out of my camper into the chilly morning air, the first thing I saw was a three-point buck staring at me, two does by his side. I started fishing way up the stream. I rounded a bend, glanced up, and there was a cougar, not 50 yards in front of me, on the edge of a large beaver pond. He was as big as my golden retriever, but a little lighter in color. He stood motionless for about a minute, staring at me. Then he vanished into the willows. I had never before seen a cougar in the wild. It was a thrill. The day was worthwhile before I even caught a fish. And that's good because I fished for about 2 hours without catching a thing. I was on Fish Creek, above Scofield Reservoir — a medium-sized stream which generally offers very good fishing. Numerous beaver dams dot this stream, creating large pools which are home to many large browns and an incredible number of 8-14 inch cutthroats. If you're a novice fly-fisherman, Fish Creek is a good place to hone your skills. Like the lakes of the high Uintas, you've got to catch the stream in the right mood. When you do, you can catch feisty wild cutts on virtually every cast. Some beaver ponds high up the stream contain so many small cutthroats they actually look like holding tanks at a fish hatchery. The fish will often take any fly that is presented in a semi-delicate manner. Hoppers, ants, and mosquitos are good bets during late summer, along with most any small nymph. Serious fishermen get excited about the big browns and cutthroats which inhabit the lower portion of the stream — the final three or four miles before it empties into Scofield seem to be best. It is not uncommon for this section of stream to yield 14-16 inchers, and occasionally fish ranging from 17 to 20 inches are taken. Undoubtedly, the river contains even bigger fish. A dirt road follows Fish Creek for about a mile above Scofield. Then a well marked trail follows the stream into a motor-vehicle restricted wilderness — miles and miles of stream, pines, wildlife and solitude. It's paradise. One of my favorite places on earth. Hiking is fairly easy along the trail, but extremely rugged in the river bottom, where there are thick stands of willows and wild roses. Still, many of the beaver ponds have relatively unencumbered banks making it easy to cast a fly or spinner. The brush is so thick in the river bottom that it is almost impossible to move from hole to hole without actually wading up the middle of the stream — and that's no easy feat in many areas. Because of that, most people fish the holes that are easily accessible from the trail. Some of the holes that are difficult to reach have seldom seen a fishermen. The same is true of the sections of stream high up in the canyon, far fiom any road. Deer and elk hunters come through on horseback, but not very many fishermen make their way into the area. I've heard that beaver dams on some of the small forks of the stream, high up in the tops of the mountains, are home to a good population of nice brook trout, although I've never gotten up that far myself. One of the forks of Fish Creek winds through a rugged canyon up to Gooseberry Reservoir. Every summer I plan to take a couple days and hike from Gooseberry down to Scofield, but I can never find the time. Don't try it unless you are in good physical condition. On this outing I drove up above Scofield, then hiked about a half mile above the end of the road before I started fishing. I had planned to hike a mile or more, but the beaver days were so inviting I couldn't resist. I firmly believe that the two best times to fish are before the sun hits the water in the morning and after sunset in the evening. But it didn't work out that way on this trip. I'll blame it on the bright moon the night before. Anyway, I tried everything in my tackle box as I made my way up the river, and I didn't even have a bite for about two hours. Then, suddenly, the action turned on and I started getting strikes. I was working a small silver Mepp spinner through an extremely large beaver dam, casting toward willows that overhung the far bank, when I saw a flash of gold and felt a solid strike. But the hook missed and the fish swam free. On the next cast I hooked a willow and lost my lure. The only other Mepp I had was a big (number 2), red and white spinner — far bigger than I generally use in a medium-sized stream. I tied on the big Mepp and cast toward the snag. I retrieved very slowly, letting the lure run deep, the blade fluttering slowly. I was working it toward the base of some rocks, in the deepest part of the hole. Wham! A solid hit and a 15 inch brown thrashed on the end of my line. I caught a 13-inch cutthroat on my next cast, then 3 more smaller cutts within a few minutes. The mood of the stream had changed and I was in fishing heaven. These high country streams and lakes are often finicky — hot action one minute and nothing the next. So, if they aren't biting in one place, move to another. There are plenty of primitive camping spots along the road just above Scofield. At the end of the road, there are forest restrooms. An old pipe brings water into the area, but it's anybody's guess if its clean enough to drink. The stream level is low, and the area is very dry. Fire danger is high. Campers are asked to use grills or stoves for cooking, instead of open campfires. Beer cans and candy wrappers can be seen along the trail up the canyon, soiling an otherwise pristine wilderness. |
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