I was fortunate enough to meet up with a few guys from one of my (insert A's voice) "dorky forums". Yes, it's dorky. I'll admit it. I'm not normally a social angler, I'm actually pretty selective about who I fish with, but when you chat with guys during the day you develop a bit of a repoire, and it's always interesting to see if the person matches the online persona.

We met up at the fly shop in Welches, and after some brief introductions drove to the river. Rigged up, and hiked in. Conversation was of course about fishing, and it's neat to see the diverse fishing backgrounds everyone brings.



Fishing was decent during the day, nothing extraordinary, but again the trout were willing to rise to a dry were wild rainbows, so I don't ask much more than that.



I had promised to be home early enough for dinner, so a little after 3 I moved back on down the trail and to the truck.



We're heading into July, which usually means a break for me from fishing, but we'll see...

There is something appealing about small stream fishing. Don't get me wrong, my heart races every time I hook up to a Lower D redside, but moving amongst the rocks and brush, casting a simple adams behind boulders and next to logs, is different.



I love this stretch of water. It's not the easiest to find, and I've never seen another angler, but most importantly it's only open for two weeks a year. So, when the time comes, you do what you have to and get out there.



The cutthroat are small, but fiesty and aggressive. They aren't use to any pressure, so it becomes more of a challenge to seek out the bigger ones. Today, that was only 6 or 7 inches, which is a great time on a 0 weight.



Finally, I've done what I came up here for, and am ready to drive back and chase the girls around.

There are those experiences that will stick with you forever. In regards to fishing, I've got several - first steelhead on a fly, catching native cutt's on Slough Creek, first time I floated the D in my own boat. I can add one more, and that is the Brown Drake hatch on a not-so-secret spring creek in Idaho.

I picked Doug up at the Boise Airport Thursday afternoon, and we just pointed the truck east and went. Rolled into camp late afternoon, cracked a beer, and relished the sound of the water.

For the brown drakes, we didn't really know what to expect; there were a fair number of anglers out and about, most of them heading down to the water around 4. Doug and I were in no hurry, so we hunkered down at camp and watched the sun drop before grabbing the rods and hitting the water. Unfortunately, the big bugs never really came off, and we cast half-heartedly while thinking of bbq and beer.



Friday morning we rolled into the Preserve, pumped up the tubes, and kicked through the "s-curves." Fishing was decent, with some baetis first thing in the morning, but the PMD's never really came off so by early afternoon we packed it in.







Friday afternoon was another story entirely. We'd learned Thursday night that most anglers were moving down to the water early to reserve "their spot." So we moved down, stumbled across a nice run that was teeming with brown drakes, and "smoked and joked" until dark. Then the magic began...



It started slowly at first - a few bugs would start flying in the grass behind you. Then a few more. Soon, a swarm of big brown drakes would be methodically fluttering up 18 or 24 inches, only to float gently down and do it again. As the sun dropped further on the horizon, the bugs would increase in intensity, until they moved out over the water at dusk and thousands would move in unison. First, up river, then almost instantly, the entire swarm would move down river, only to repeat the process again and again.



Finally, you'd notice the bugs descending on the water to drop eggs. A splash here, another over there. Smaller fish at first, and then you'd hear them - big fish, hammering bugs off the surface. As it got darker, the trout became more bold, moving into shallow water and out of their lairs. The bugs would finish their ritual, and spinners would cover the water. Your fly was lost amongst thousands of naturals, you could only watch a general area and raise your rod should you hear a splash. Yet, despite all of the chaos and darkness, presentation was everything. 13 foot 6x leader, 2 feet of 6x tippet, and an absolute drag-free drift was paramount, as they were still selective.



You fish until well after dark, just before the full moon broke over the horizon, giggling like school girls. Break out the headlamp, fix your tippet, cast some more. Raise the rod at the splash. Soon, you notice that the bugs are gone. We'd pack it in, walk the path back to camp and sit around, grinning from ear to ear and nurse a beer...



Saturday we woke early and again headed over to the Preserve. We were in no hurry today, still giddy from the Brown Drakes the night before, and drank coffee and ate some baked goods while watching the morning sun wake the birds. Yellow headed and red winged blackbirds, warblers, sandhill cranes, and scores of others...



Despite it being a Saturday, the crowds weren't too bad. The baetis came off early, but the PMD's never materialized in force and the fishing slowed considerably late morning. We each managed to fool a few, but it took about 15 patterns and countless casts before bringing one to hand.



We rolled up the valley, made a sandwich on the banks of the Big Wood and bs'd. Rolled back down to camp, grabbed our gear, and walked up river looking for the bugs.





The hatch was again intense, not nearly as much as Friday night, but the sheer awesomeness of it was overwhelming. The clouds above us had thickened, bringing the bugs to the water early and the big fish out hammering the surface. We fished hard, but still having a great time and laughing at missed takes and relishing the big fish spooling line.





Sunday morning we woke early, broke camp, and headed west towards Boise, still amazed at our sheer luck in hitting the elusive hatch.

When I close my eyes, I can still picture the swarm of brown drakes, dancing over the water...