Tag Archives: Elk

On Sunday we checked out of our cottage in Jackson and made our way to our cabin in Last Chance, ID. Our drive would take us up through Grand Teton and into the heart of Yellowstone National Park then out to West Yellowstone and down to Island Park, ID. I decided to go a different route through Teton taking us along Mormon Row – it paid off with our first glimpse of a wild bison herd.




It was really cool to see buffalo in the wild, but I’ll be honest, they are not very exciting creatures. It was kind of like watching cattle in a field. It was still a cool experience because like trout, they live in beautiful places. We continued up following the Snake River through the Tetons on up into Yellowstone, where we were now following the Lewis. We had a short stop at Lewis Falls as we made our way to West Thumb Geyser Basin. There we got our first taste of the geothermal activity that Yellowstone is known for.






As you can probably tell in the pic of my wife(which was my favorite of the whole trip BTW), we are expecting our first child in November. We are very excited! Just trying to fit in as many trips as we can before that day arrives.

After West Thumb, we made our way toward the busiest part of the Park, Old Faithful. We had a little time to kill before the next eruption so we walked around the Upper Geyser Basin a bit. It didn’t take long to see why the Firehole River was named so.





Catching Old Faithful in person was definitely cool to experience, but I think I only need to do it once. In a different way, the inside of the Old Faithful Inn was just as impressive to see. We hopped back in the car and headed toward Grand Prismatic Spring. It was a bummer to find out that the boardwalk alongside the spring had collapsed that previous week and was being rebuilt so the site was closed to pedestrian traffic. We found more geysers, springs, and the Fountain Paint Pots just up the road at the Lower Geyser Basin.





We made one more detour as we approached Madison to go check out the Firehole Falls. As soon as we got in the canyon I had to pull over to cast my line against a giant rock wall. It just seemed like a cool place to fish that had to be holding something. Sure enough I caught a little rainbow and missed another a little bigger right at the foot of the wall.




On our way out of the Park, following the Madison River now, we stopped to check out the elk that were grazing in the meadows. It was kind of funny to see a “wild” animal with a giant antenna protruding from his head.




It was a long day touring Teton and Yellowstone National Parks, finished off perfectly at the Madison Crossing Lounge. The beer was cold, the food was good, and the bartender was top notch. I’d recommend it to anyone headed to West Yellowstone.


Saturday we woke up bright and early to make the 2 hour drive west through the Park and over the Continental Divide on Trail Ridge Rd. to meet up with our guide-friend Greg for a float on the Upper Colorado. The drive was absolutely stunning and leaving at twilight meant there were no other cars on the road (people start their days much later in Colorado than in Louisiana), so we had the road all to ourselves. Everywhere you looked was a breathtaking view, especially once we got above the treeline. As we approached Milner Pass we stopped to take pictures of a bull elk feeding right on the side of the road. We rolled down the window and Blake yells “Hey elk!” and almost on queue the elk struck a pose for us as we snapped a quick pic, then we were on our way. As we winded our way down the mountains and into the valley that holds the Colorado River headwaters we spotted a couple of animals we had yet to see, moose. They looked to be calves, we stopped and grabbed a quick pic of them as well. First time I’ve ever seen moose in the wild. The drive continued past Lake Grandby and followed the Colorado River until we hit our destination.









We were meeting up with our friend Greg, who would be taking us down the Colorado on his Down River raft. The plan was to float a section of the river that permitted a lot of wade fishing as well. We were in no hurry and the weather was too beautiful to just bust ass down river, plus Greg knew some good spots to wade fish. He showed us what we should be throwing and we rigged up our rods to match. Almost immediately after taking off from the ramp Blake hooks up with a fish.



I was off to a slow start at the back of the boat while Blake proceeded to catch a few fish. I caught a small brown to get the skunk off, then another that was a little bigger while wading. Blake was on a roll and caught a nice brown while he was wading.






We got back in the boat and kept heading downstream, it wasn’t long before we’d get out and wade again, but that also meant it wasn’t long before Blake would be hooked up again at the front of the boat. As for me, I was a mess in the back of the boat. I couldn’t put a proper hookset on a fish to save my life. It was only my 2nd time fishing for trout from a boat and it showed. Blake was making it look easy. I was having an easier time when I was wading. I picked up a couple rainbows at the next stop. Greg took off upstream and really showed us how it’s done, which was good, because I could just watch him and emulate. I could tell I had to work on my line control, make shorter drifts, and just be quicker on the set.









It was neat to see all the trains pass as we made our way down river, I couldn’t help but think of what an awesome train ride that must be following along the Colorado River, through multiple canyons across the Colorado countryside. We had been having a great day so far, Blake had a few nice browns and lots of other decent ones, while I caught a few decent fish, but many on the smaller side, which I’m convinced is harder to do, since their mouths are smaller. Anyway, by this time I was on the front of the boat and my luck still hadn’t changed. When I wasn’t all tangled up, I was missing hooksets, or catching dinks.



As we were approaching a set of rapids, Greg is telling us to get ready to cast at one side because fish will be holding there, but before we get there we needed to hit the holding water immediately above the rapid on each side. Naturally I’m casting left and Blake, in the rear, is casting right. As I go into my backcast his forward cast rolls through and we get tangled. I just remember thinking, “Ugh, are you kidding me?!” Luckily it wasn’t too bad and I was able to untangle us before we completely made it through the rapid. On my second cast in the rapid I get hooked up with my best fish of the day, then shortly after Blake sticks one as well, so we’re both hooked up riding through the rapid. Greg tells Blake to ride it out with the fish on as I net my fish. Well around that time, a rock comes out of nowhere and knocks the rear of the raft to one side. All I see is Blake’s body go flying toward the side of the boat, right arm high trying to keep rod up, left arm reaching out for something to grab on. Unfortunately he grabbed on to the swivel seat he was sitting on and he slipped right out the boat. So he goes in the water, but luckily is able to get his feet under himself and recover his footing, while somehow still maintaining contact with the raft. The line isn’t taught, but as he reels it in he still has the fish on. Through this whole process I’ll admit that I didn’t know what to do, but the first thought in my mind wasn’t “Are you alright?”, rather it was “Keep that rod tip up”. I know, what kind of a friend does that make me? He was alright after all and jumped back in the boat and we were able to net the fish with mine. Turns out his was bigger than mine too, go figure. It was a moment of utter chaos and one that we laughed a good bit about. It was really no fault of Greg’s that Blake was jettisoned, we were all paying attention to the the double hook up and no one saw the rock. I have no idea how we were able to land those two fish and not lose anything either.




We had to re-rig after the incident, once we netted both those fish we were all tangled up. After that we got out and did some wading and proceeded to stick some more fish. I managed to blow it on my last good chance of the day when I made a cast behind a rock and watched as a brown launched himself out of the water for my fly, full body exposed. I fought him for a few seconds, before he took my fly with him. He would have been my nicest on the day, maybe even the biggest of the trip, but it wasn’t in the cards. Really I’m just thankful I got to experience the thrill of watching him eat, it was incredible.




We popped open a couple beers and relaxed for the rest of the float, recapped the day’s events and watched a bald eagle soar through the air. It was really a great trip, one that will surely stick with me for awhile. Fishing with Greg was a lot of fun, he’s got that water dialed in, I learned a good bit from him and we came away with some quality fish stories. I felt like I was a better fisherman at the end of the day than I was at the start.




On the drive back we stopped at Milner Pass, I had to get the picture of the Divide sign, I missed it on the way there, and take a few more pictures of the mountains. We happened to make the drive on Trail Ridge for both sunrise and sunset. There were far more people on the road in the evening than in the morning. Greg gave us a tip on a place to eat in Estes after we dogged the Estes Park Brewery (good beer, below average food). It was Smokin’ Dave’s BBQ, and it was delicious, so Greg was hitting on all cylinders on Saturday. Especially considering he clued us in on where we needed to fish in the Park on Sunday.





The creek we hit on Friday came recommended from Mike at Laughing Grizzly. It was one I had read about, but not considered because I wasn’t really sure how we would do on long hikes in the Park. “Long” to me must be different to everyone else, because this one was considered short. I really wasn’t sure our lungs could handle it, but he assured us it wasn’t bad and as long as we kept hydrated and were feeling fine than it would be no problem for us.

We made it to the trailhead at around 8am after a short drive from Estes and found the parking lot pretty sparse with only a few hikers getting ready. Saw more elk and even a couple mule deer on the drive over. It’s becoming apparent that elk are like feral cats in these parts.



The hike in was about 2 miles and it really wasn’t too bad. We stopped a few times to take pictures and catch our breath, but made it to the barrier falls in good time (much like brookies in the South, we were after the greenback cutthroat that lived above the falls). At this point the trail breaks away from the creek and heads off in a different direction. We were supposed to take a trail to the left, but it went unnoticed by us as a group of tourists shrouded it’s beginning. We of course went off to the right, up what looked like might be a trail only to discover that it really wasn’t. Rather than doing the smart thing and heading back down we bushwhacked our way all the way up the falls on the right side until we got to an area we were able to fish. Shortly after I noticed the well worn trail to the left and we finally had our first “duh” moment on the trip.






Even above the falls the creek was pretty vertical and holding water was limited. We hit any pocket that looked a like a good place to hide, but failed to catch any fish for what seemed like hours. We weren’t even seeing fish and we hit some good looking spots. Of course when that happens your mind starts racing as you run through all the reasons why there aren’t any fish:

– There must be someone fishing ahead of us

– Something tramped through here yesterday and all the fish still have lockjaw

– That guy at the shop is full of shit and just wanted to give us tourists a rough time

– Maybe it’s just too early here and the fish need time to warm up

Then I caught one, a beautiful greenback, and like someone turned on the light switch, we started catching them. Not here or there either, it was nearly every hole. They would slowly rise to the fly and sip it in. Not like the brookies of the South, that murder a fly with reckless abandon. These fish were graceful, elegant, if they had pinkies they would be raised as they ate the fly. All those fears about catching fish were washed away, Mike was a saint in our eyes, and everything was right in the world (except for the smudge on the camera lens).












We continued fishing up until we hit a trail crossing, then took a short detour to check out a lake. I hadn’t read anything about the lake, so we thought it could be fish-less, had to check it out regardless. We didn’t see any cruisers from the shoreline, just a lonesome duck. We headed back to the creek and continued upstream. The upstream section was flatter, and even had a bit of a meadow feel to it. Still plenty of hungry cutthroat, but the action did start to slow.









As the creek began to start going vertical again we decided to turn it around and head out. We had caught plenty of Colorado’s state fish and wanted to make it back to Estes while it was still daylight. The trek down wouldn’t be as bad either, now that we found the correct trail to take around the falls. Plus waiting for us at the car were a couple of cold beers. The drive back to Estes had a couple good photo ops, but nothing like the drive we would take the next day on Trail Ridge Rd, above the tree line and over the Continental Divide, then westward toward the Colorado.