First Backcountry Fly Fishing Trip of 2023

Bonneville Cutthroat

Around mid-June, after a long winter and an unseasonably long runoff, Dad and I decided that it was time to go on one of our yearly backcountry fly fishing trips at one of our favorite spots. Our journey in the side-by-side was less than pleasant as we were bombarded by rain, hail, snow, and lightning, but we had waited long enough, and were determined to make it to our destination. The toll of the harsh winter was apparent; sections of the road remained buried under avalanches, and the once plentiful mule deer population had been reduced to a few ragged does. Even the usual crystal-clear water held a green tint that clouded any hole deeper than three feet.

The lightning had stopped upon our arrival, so we donned our waders and rain jackets, gathered our gear, and trekked down to the river. Opting for a divide-and-conquer approach, Dad tied on a Black Woolly Bugger while I chose a double Euro nymph rig, featuring a pink Squirmy Wormy for my point fly and a Cottonwood Classic for my dropper. With only an hour of sunlight left, we decided to fish above a large beaver dam not far from our camp. Almost immediately, we found success, with Dad reeling in eight Bonneville Cutthroat (one pictured above) and myself landing five Bonneville and a Whitefish. It was one of those magical days where the choice of fly seemed irrelevant, as both options proved fruitful. Reluctant to leave, we tore ourselves away to set up camp and kindle a fire with damp wood.

The following morning welcomed us with clear skies and the promise of a wonderful day of angling. Dad decided to break out his easel and oil paints before starting, so I grabbed my rod and started off on a solo expedition. 

Since the Cutthroat had completed their spawning cycle a few weeks prior, I opted to test a slush egg with my squirmy wormy, or a “bacon n’ eggs rig.” In the first pool, I hooked two fat Cutthroat on the squirmy wormy (see video 1), followed by a pair of egg-hungry Brown trout in the subsequent pools (see video 2), marking my first of the trip. After pulling a pretty brown from the base of a beaver dam, I rendezvoused with dad for lunch.

(Video 1)

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(Video 2)

Despite our success over the last 24-hours, we still found ourselves afflicted by a serious case of “fish brain,” prompting us to hastily assemble some PB&Js before returning to the river. As the afternoon wore on, the pace of our angling slowed; however, an unassuming bend in the river held an unexpected prize. I hooked into a sizable fish, which put up a much tougher fight than any of the previous trout I had caught on the trip. Initially suspecting it to be a large Mountain Whitefish, I was pleasantly surprised when after a 10-minute struggle, I netted a stunning Brown trout (not that there’s anything wrong with Whitefish) - my personal best for that river (pictured below).

Brown Trout

That night, we savored jalapeno brats roasted over the crackling fire, basking in the twinkling stars above. Fishing with my dad has been a tradition since before I could walk, and even on days devoid of fish, we always walk away happy. While some might argue that fishing trips are about catching fish, I contend that it’s more of a perk. Each outing grants me the opportunity to explore some of the most picturesque rivers in Wyoming, and in my humble opinion, some of the most beautiful in the world. I relish escaping the hustle of daily life for the tranquility of the outdoors. These backcountry excursions often act as spiritual retreats, affording me the opportunity to reconnect with nature and lose myself in the ceaseless melody of the river. It's trips like these that remind me why I became a guide, and I feel that much more grateful that I get to share these experiences with others.