Yellowstone River

Yellowstone River Utah

11-11-11 another funky date came and went and the earth is still revolving, the sun still shining and living things are still going about their business. Johnny and I decided to work on one more of the South Slope rivers of the Uintahs, either Lake Fork or the Yellowstone. We both know this area really well, mostly at the Granddaddy area. We used to hunt there a lot when Johnny was knee high to a hopper, with his dad Joe. One day I may be brave enough to write about my misadventures with Joe, but it would turn into a book, and I’m having a hard enough time writing in this little blog of mine.

We did not go into the Yellowstone area back then, because you can’t hunt it-- due to the fact that its mostly Indian land and the Ute tribe don’t allow hunting. They may sell some special permits, but the area is off limits to state deer tag hunters. Deer are oozing out of hills like rats in a nest. The area is beautiful. It combines the arid desert Duchesne look meeting the alpine, pine and quacking aspens look of the Uintahs. Also as you round the corner coming from Duchesne into the Talmage/Altamont Valley, the whole basin is calming. It turns more green and lush with endless rolling hills. It has that old school ranch/farm look.

Not a sole is in site for miles of paved road, turning to dirt road  for  about 15 to 20 miles to get up to the dam at Yellowstone. The road to Lake Fork River is paved the whole way. Doe’s are grouped up like you normally see 5 to 10 or so in a small herd.  100 yards or so ahead of the truck we see a big deer, and I get the feel it’s a buck—it’s a striking four point.

 A few weeks ago I spotted some doe’s feeding with some cows, and we drove along side them taking pictures. Some story with this buck, he stayed right next to the road, allowing me to get off about 20 shots. This part was hilarious, I’m driving while trying to shoot this guy with a 300 millimeter lens, Johnny takes the wheel, at one point the deer looks like he’s going to cut across the road right in front of us, “oh my God, don’t hit him,” Johnny yells out. For a minute we were Bubba and Cletis, just blending right into the environment. Honestly, shooting with a camera instead of a gun was fun, and the buck got to walk off to show all those doe’s his genes need to be passed on. Of course it would have to wait at least until he got his tongue back into his mouth, we ran him pretty hard. However, there is something about being on the hunt—literally on the hunt. I think it’s a primal aspect of man, bring home the bacon, being the top of the food chain, just being primal; I don’t know what it is but its inside us. It reminds me of Jack London’s Call of the Wild; the wild that exists inside the domesticated dog Buck. Once Buck goes feral, he becomes amazing.

 But then maybe those animal rights activists are correct, maybe humanity has evolved to the point that we no longer need to be hunters. Perhaps we no longer need to kill animals to feed ourselves. Or, if we do kill animals, it is done by a machine in some huge CAFO in the Midwest, and we never have to see blood guts or death as long as we live and eat. Screw that; I may not hunt anymore, but I did love the chase. Ask yourself this question, do you really want to remove all the primeval from your inner self?

Anyhow enough rambling, about that, back to the discussion about the Yellowstone and Lake Fork. We decided not to fish Lake Fork, and voted instead to turn our attention to the Yellowstone. It was cold, cold enough to ice over a fair amount of the river. We screened the river, and found no bugs. We found no fish for that matter. I don’t want to make excuses for us, but in all honesty, we worked some holes hard, like fishing poets, and got no love in return. No matter, it’s not always about catching, it’s about fishing. This is what I tell myself when I get my ass kicked, especially by a river that most beginners catch a lot fish on.

We now have White Rocks, and the Uintah River and we have fished the whole South Slope of the Uintahs. I think we will have to wait until spring, things are starting to freeze over—stay tuned blog fans—all 4 of you.

Lake Fork, Utah

Duchesne River Ut.

October 29, 2011 The Duchesne River is holy, and it travels through sacred ground. I’m not saying this because a nice chunk of it is on Ute Indian land; oh no its holiness lies deeper. Everything about this river is blessed. Ok, maybe it has its teeny tiny flays but who doesn’t?

 For starters driving from Salt Lake you can take U.S. 40 or you can take Wolf Creek Pass. Driving 40, you go through Park City, then Up Daniels, past Strawberry Reservoir and through flat desert land. It’s a perfect drive, the scenery keeps shifting, and it’s less than two hours. 
If you select Wolf Creek, you get to wind through some of Utah’s finest high mountain terrain—pines, peaks and aspens. At the top of the pass you have Hanna and Tabby, both quaint, rolling hills farm community. The place is crawling with deer, hawks and hound dogs. When you fish the river you have a great view of Mount Tabby.

If I had to pick on one of those tiny little flaws, it would be the water clarity change; at times the river can get murky. First of all it’s a free stone river, and those rolling grass hills have a lot of cows grazing on them. The river bottom has this clay like brown mud that when it’s kicked up, it can really stay in the water.

Rock Creek Utah

October 29, 2011, Rock Creek Utah: We drove up Wolf Creek Pass, to Hanna, then over Blind Stream  pass to get to Rock Creek. I drove my two wheel drive Nissan and it felt like a big mistake. Going down the North Slope, the winding switch backs were ice packed, and I know everyone was thinking “I hope we can drive to Mountain Home and not have to come back this way, or we are probably going to see how good Steve’s survival skills are." He did have a killer Bear Grills knife, and I will admit he did come prepared for anything. We started calling him “Bear Shits,” but he’s pretty mormon and didn’t seem to appreciate the new nick-name.

Long story short Bear caught a lot more fish with a Panther Martin then we did with fly rods, and when we got back to the truck he already had a lean-to half constructed, and a fire going from his handy dandy flint—I’ve got to get me one of those.

This is the first time I have fished Rock Creek, and I fell in love the moment we met. Of course being tail water is always a real plus in my book. It  has all the classic Uintah markings; high altitude, rugged terrain,  a healthy rock bottom and clean clear water. I don’t think there is an abundant bug life though, which would naturally limit the size of the fish.  Adding to its charm, it meanders and forks off constantly, and has a real variety of holes and runs.

I can’t wait to get my feet back in these waters. Although I can imagine it will have to wait until spring, because it already has some spots that were starting to ice over.

Weber River

Weber with the Wife

This is really the first time I have fished with my wife Melissa aka “Sweet.” She gets the name from the Allman Brothers Band “Sweet Melissa.” It’s a song about a love struck Gypsy who just can’t make it in this world without his “Sweet Melissa.” Need I say more?  As much as I love her, and truthfully there is no one on the planet I would rather spend time with than her, she doesn’t fish with me. It’s one of two things: either she is giving me my “man time,” or she really has no desire to fish.

Ghost Adventures

The Great St. George Ghost Adventure

My family and I recently took a trip to St. George to visit the oldest of the three beauties, Hannah, aka Puff. The two youngest beauties Jac and Madeline, selected a ghost adventure over a southern Utah hike. Well, what they really wanted to do was search for Polygamists; which they had a lot more success at that then the ghost hunt.

The story goes that two Catholic girls have been buried with mormon pioneers’ setting the set stage for our quest; a journey to find out any facts to the truth of their burial. Legend and our trusty GPS lead us to two locations; two ghost towns each with a cemetery, and each with more clues to the validity of this tragic abandonment of these two seemingly  saintly young  schoolgirls.

Silver Reef is our first target, a grave site where all the inhabitants are separated into groups; Catholics, Protestants, Chinese and of course Pioneers. Our particular cemetery will take us to the Catholic section to see if any of our three mediums in the group can conjure up the poor tortured souls. Legend says the girls were abandoned in the Zion desert, left by their parents to wander, in search of polygamist wives and children, as their only form of entertainment. We found cool old wood cross graves; we did not feel the presence of any souls.

Our second site is Grafton, a small town at the base of Zion Canyon where two of our mediums, Fluff and Puff,  feel stirrings of something at the grave site, but is it the two Catholic girls, or something else that stirs in them? Stay posted for some video footage of their findings.

The story doesn’t end with a ghost, or a polygamist wife, but a serpent—serpent with a rattle on the end of his tale, and a piercing eye. Lurking at the bottom of a Grafton Stairwell the snake waits, waits to meet its eye with that of none other than Puff—one of our mediums. See her story for further detail on her blog: fluffandpuffsrealityblog

What does a ghost adventure have to do with fishing? Nothing--shut up it’s my blog I can put whatever I want in it.