Fall Upper Colorado Fishing Trip, pt. 2 - Upper Colorado

Leaving the Williams Fork with a few more hours of good fishing left on the day, we swung into a familiar parking lot along the Upper Colorado River. We worked our way out of the car and down river to an island that sits above a long riffle run known to fish well. When we arrived, we were dismayed to find a restoration project was underway on this stretch of the river. Well, “dismayed” might not be exactly how we felt - it was great to see our fishing licenses and tax payer dollars being put to good use along water we fish. Nevertheless, we had to re-strategize, so we retraced our steps looking for other opportunities.

We had a specific run in mind as we trudged back along the trail. This particular stretch of the Upper Colorado is no mystery - every time we’ve driven past it is commonly lined with fishermen. From the road, this run does not appear to be a trip-maker, and while I know not to judge a book by its cover, I don’t always practice what I preach. So as we hiked up river from the restoration closure, unsurprisingly we found this spot to be recently vacated by a pod of fishermen. Without a doubt this is less than ideal. Fishing any run immediately after another group does not leave on particularly inspired, but the choice was either to try the run or get back in the car. We decided to try the proverbial bird in the bush. As we approached the water in question, we observed what makes it so popular.

The force of the water coming together underneath the island creates a large, deep riverbed as it gradually flows to flatter water. This type of pool can be fished from all angles, providing great opportunities for dry fly fishing and nymphing alike. We took to the run, reading the water and attempting to divine the fish. There wasn’t much success to be spoken of at this point in the day - the sun was high overhead and the run had certainly been fished thoroughly by the previous crew. While we caught a handful of smaller trout, I might have been more distracted by the beautiful views up and down river from us. We wrapped up our day after a longer dry spell between fish, and headed back to the Muddy Creek Cabins.

Outstanding fall views on the Upper Colorado

It was enticing to slip into an afternoon nap after a full day of fishing, so to ensure we avoided a premature bedtime we concocted a few whiskey gingers and reviewed the day in full. The Williams Fork fit the narrative entering the weekend - strong start, but a temperamental river, with crowds to boot. The Upper Colorado showed promise, but with one of the tried and true runs being off the table, and the other one already fished over, there was only hope for a better day. The calculus was fully underway; we had one more day left on our trip and needed to determine how to best spend that day. Before we could make the right decision, we needed to refuel first.

Out the cabin door and across town we walked to a local Mexican restaurant. We quickly ordered three margaritas (frozen, differing flavors) and got into a good dinner while we cracked jokes that made little sense to us (and certainly no sense to any who may have overheard). These nights after a long day of fishing can, and will, get silly - this one was no exception. I was ready to fall asleep at the table when dinner was over, and luckily while we walked back to the cabin the cold night air reinvigorated me long enough for us to plan our Sunday. We decided that time was of the essence (when isn’t it?). The plan was to hit the Upper Colorado early in the morning and make our way back to the large pool below the island, and be the first on that stretch. It was our turn to be the fishermen that we had observed so many times. Lights dimmed, white noise machines on, and day 2 was at an end.

A well earned dinner.

Our final day of the fishing weekend started as many do - with a slow stir, but soon we are in a frenzy, having realized that not only are we headed to the river, but we’ve got to clean this cabin per checkout rules. Hustle and bustle, while sipping down some coffee, and we were all packed up and ready to go. Within the hour we’re back on the river, slowly making our way up to the stretch of water, but not before fishing some runs that appealed to our sensibilities.

With this time of year, the fisher is presented with the heightened chance to catch trout on a streamer. In the five years that I’ve started fly fishing, I have been very content in nymphing and dry fly fishing. I had thrown a streamer a handful of times, and had caught a few trout on them, but never quite had the ‘a-ha’ moment. And ahead of this trip I felt a growing sensation to open the door fully to this part of fly fishing. So, leading up to the trip I acquired a new reel and weight-appropriate line to best facilitate tossing a streamer. 

Up to this point on the weekend, I had carried around a second fly rod rigged up with a baby gonga that had only gotten wet a handful of times. So with renewed resolve, I started my day with the streamer rod, working small runs methodically. One could imagine my excitement when I stripped my way into the mouth of a brown trout. “Not a rock!”, I thought, as the line came to life. I quickly coaxed a 12 inch brown trout into the net. With the first fish of the day by the works of a streamer, I was already feeling accomplished.

The baby gonga provides.

After working through a few more runs me, Harlan and Dave trekked to the confluence below the island that we had ended the previous day on. As we walked into this prime lie, we spotted several trout swaying in the current, as well as some sips on the surface. Within minutes, we were keyed into an extremely productive run, landing trout on a variety of nymphs along the full length of the run.

As a confirmation to the ideal conditions, we experienced one of the best mayfly hatches I have witnessed. The adult insects bobbed lazily in the air, a sign of the abundance of life in this ecosystem. Everything had come together perfectly for us on this afternoon. We pulled in so many trout that we started losing count, content with sitting on the sidelines and watching each other catch fish as we gave our forearms a rest.

Mayfly's take flight.

Unfortunately, all fishing trips have to come to an end, regardless of how many fish one may or may not be catching. In this particularly rare case, I was the one calling the end of the day, rather than my brother, a father of two. Although I should admit that I was delaying our departure as much as possible, basking in the glow of an extremely successful day of fishing.

The Upper Colorado proved once again as the perfect backdrop for a weekend trip. Time and time again we make our way to this quiet part of the state to add another layer of memories, and this year’s fall trip was no different.