Fly Fishing the Smiths Fork with Patriot Anglers

Charles
Jul 15
3 min read

There is a quiet, heavy stillness that settles over the high desert of southwest Wyoming just after the spring runoff peaks. The rivers, bloated and brown for weeks, finally begin to pull back within their banks, revealing the structure that wild trout call home. It’s a magic window of the season—and we had the pleasure of fishing it with Patriot Anglers.

Patriot Anglers is a non-profit dedicated to helping veterans heal from trauma and PTSD through the quiet therapy of fly fishing. For me, hosting this group is always a highlight of the season.

We set up camp at our cabin on the Cottonwood Ranch in Cokeville, rigged the rods, and set out to see what Wyoming fly fishing had in store for us.

Day One: Green Water and Cutthroats on the Smiths Fork

On June 15, we stepped up to the banks of the Smiths Fork, Wyoming.

The heavy spring runoff had just officially run its course, but nature loves to throw a wrench in the gears. Rainstorms the night before had flushed fresh silt into the drainage, leaving the water with a distinct, milky-green hue.

Standing on the banks, looking at the bugs in the air, we were itching for some dry fly action. Yellow sallies were fluttering along the willows, a decent blanket of caddis was coming off, and big stoneflies were flying around the bank vegetation. I had high hopes that the fish would be looking up, eager to smash a bug on the surface. But the cold, off-colored water kept them locked down. Instead of rising to the banquet above them, the trout were holding tight to the safety of their deep holes.

But all was not lost. Off-colored water and bottom-hugging fish look like a disaster, bug green water offers a shroud of security for wild, predatory trout. It coaxes them out of the deep, impenetrable sanctuaries and puts them right on the seam lines. We adjusted, went deep, and got to work.

Finding the Rhythm

We spent our first day fishing the private water right here on the Cottonwood Ranch. The veterans quickly dialed in their casts, adapting to the soft-structure banks. It didn’t take long before the river paid its first dividends:

Cutthroat Trout from the Smiths Fork, WY

The Target: We found beautiful, native Bonneville Cutthroat trout tucked close to the bank.
The Presentation: Drifting flashier jig streamers, pheasant tals, and hare's ears deep through the green seam lines.
The Reward: A few gorgeous, orange-slashed Cutthroats came to the net, giving the guys their first taste of wild Wyoming trout.

As the afternoon sun heated the valley below, we headed back to the cabin for dinner and rest as we prepared for tomorrow.

Day Two: Migration Upriver

On day two, we headed further up the drainage, leaving the ranch meadows behind for tighter water and deeper runs.

Early in the morning, as I stood knee-deep in the cold current checking the drift, I noticed something significant tumbling past my boots: giant stonefly nymphs.

When these massive, insects start migrating toward the banks to hatch, trout throw all caution to the wind. They stop looking for tiny specks of protein and start looking for T-bone steaks.

We immediately rigged up with Pat's Rubber Legs—a simple, heavily weighted chenille-and-silicone-leg pattern that looks like a tangled mess on land but acts like a dinner bell underwater.

The results were instantaneous and aggressive:

The Pat's Payoff: Every single veteran on the trip started hooking up. The drift didn't have to be perfect; it just had to be deep.
The Whitefish Bonus: A few anglers drifting Prince Nymphs as droppers kept their rods bent constantly with hard-fighting mountain whitefish.
The Heavyweights: The absolute highlights of the trip came back-to-back—two brute, butter-colored Brown Trout, both fooled by the Pat's Rubber Legs in deep pocket water.

Buttery Brown Trout on the Smith's Fork, WY

Fight Fish, Not Crowds

By the time we reeled in on the afternoon, the we were exhausted, sunbaked, and smiling.

To guide men of this caliber is a genuine pleasure, and it's trips like these that remind me that this sport is more than just fishing - it's therapy.