Labor Day escape to the Gem State

Mt Borah view from the Big Lost RIver

With my last fishing trip with my brother Marc now two months in the rear view mirror, I was feeling the itch and was now desperate for another adventure.  Though Matt and I talked over the past year about reconnecting again in Idaho, I felt a higher calling and need for some quality one on one time with my son Eric who's starting his senior year as a Red Raider at Texas Tech.  With plane itineraries from Jacksonville and Lubbock bringing us to Salt Lake City within minutes, the trip was a go for a three day Labor Day weekend adventure.

The basic plan called for flying in Friday around 1 pm, zipping (80 MPH speed limit) up to Mackay, check in to the Bear Bottom Inn, and fish for a couple hours before dark. then grab dinner and call it a night.  The weather was on the hot side (70s) but quickly cooled down to the 40s on the high mountain plateau as soon as the side dropped behind the hills. In other words -- pretty perfect!

I packed four flyrods - Orvis Superfine 761 & 602  for small stream fishing and Access 864 and Recon 905 and we picked up a small spinning rod as this was Eric's first time with a fly rod and wanted to have an alternative to try out in some of the bigger water.  If you recall last April when Matt and I fished with our buddy Len in Wisconsin's Driftless Area, Len outfished us with his spinning rod by a large margin.  It made me wonder how a spinning rod with a Panther Martin would work in Idaho.  We'd find out soon enough.

So back to the Big Lost, we fished a couple of pools below the reservoir for about an hour and were able to hook and land a handful of rainbows on nymphs.  Eric quickly mastered the drift and flip of the nymph rig back upstream and I was much pleased to see him get on the board early.

Content that we were off to a good beginning, we retreated back to the Bear Bottom Inn for a terrific dinner, a few Mt Borah Amber Ales, and called it a night.  Day 2 was a bit of a drive from Mackay to  my favorite piece of water perhaps anywhere -- Camas Creek.  As we drove up Morgan Creek Road we were stopped by a few officers from the Idaho Bureau of Land Management who were warning drivers of the recent wildfires in the area.  The road was passable but the burnt hillsides presented a stark reminder of the real dangers of wildfires in this remote wilderness.  We arrived at the creek, geared up and then walked for about an hour downstream before we hoped into the water.  

The water level looked near perfect.  It had been two years since Matt and I fished this water and the honey holes of that trip... were gone ! That creek has a knack for changing its flow every few years and though I was at first disappointed my sweet spots were no longer present, other prime runs and pools stepped to the forefront and proved equally productive.                      We began working up the creek with a basic double nymph, split shot and indicator rig.     It would not be long before the first hookup... and then it began to steamroll.

Isn't Idaho great!

We caught a handful of cutthroats in a couple nice runs while working from one good looking spot to another... 

  ... before catching fire in one amazingly productive hole.  The picture above is the run that was on fire. 

After I pulled a cuttie out on the first cast on a Prince nymph, Eric decided to give the spinning rod a whirl and WHAM! the fun began.  In a matter of about 20 minutes, we successfully caught 8-10 beautiful cutthroats and bull trout from 14 inches to Eric's big bull trout that pushed 20".

The deepest part of the hole was probably 6-8 feet deep.  Watching Eric work his spinning rod with great precision was really impressive.  He could place that lure exactly where he wanted and it proved irresistible to the waiting trout.  When it wasn't crushed in the deep center of the hole, we had front row seats viewing the trout charge from the depths into the tail end of the run and hammer the silver spinner.  It was cool.  A couple of things that happened here made it more memorable.  First we had a double hookup of broad-shouldered cutthroats.  The while I was bringing in about a 10 inch cuttie, a monster bull trout appeared out of nowhere stunning that trout then snatching that trout broadside in its jaw resembling a hammerhead shark.  The rod doubled and he disappeared into the depths. The cuttie came free for a brief moment and as I brought it back through the shallows at the tail of the pool, he came back! The bull snatched the now-wounded cuttie and took off again.  It escaped again and was grabbed one final time.  This was incredible watching the whole game play out.  I got the cuttie in -- he was scarred and torn up some -- I hope hi made it (in another hole). 

Here are some pics of different cutthroats and bulls from the fish in this one hole.

After that hole we continued working upstream, and continued finding beautiful cutthroats along the way.  We also came across two pair of spawning pacific salmon.  Amazing that these fish are able to make the journey from the Pacific Ocean, up the Columbia River, then on to the Snake River, onward to the Salmon River, then the Middle Fork of the Salmon River and finally to little Camas Creek.  WOW!

Enjoy the rest of Camas Creek fishery.

What an amazing day we had.  After a relaxing drive home, we checked into a motel in Challis, and prepped for one more day of fishing.

The weather was again perfect for our next day destination -- Big Creek.  Big Creek is small stream water and the rod of choice this day was my Orivs 6 foot, 2 weight.  Dry fly choice -- Joe's Hopper.  We began our hike up the trail -- the air was as crisp and clear and clean as you could ever imagine. 

Sometimes half the fun of fishing is the adventure of getting there.  We trekked for about an hour before hopping into the creek.  The water was as crystal clear as any water you would ever find.  It was now "hopper time!"  

Cutthroats were feisty and aggressive

Eric -- fish on !

It was interesting that both the Big Lost and Camas had a fair amount of "rock snot" on the river bottom, Big Creek had none -- it ran as clear as you can imagine.

Last cast - last fish

After a successful trip of in this beautiful back country water, we hiked back out to our SUV.  Wanting a last cast, last fish -- I walked Eric over to a spillway that crossed the dirt road.  Having already broken down the fly rod, I had him cast his spinner across the outflow thinking there'd be one last cuttie lurking.

We drove out and headed back to Mackay for the night.  

However, as there was still a couple hours of daylight remaining, I said we needed to hit the river one last time.  Eric headed up to the reservoir and I headed downstream to some water I fished many years ago.  The river was high and fast.  I nearly took a swim (probably should have) crossing to the other side.  Walking down the through some brush, I spooked a deer and nearly had a heart attack.  I had my standard nymph rig ready to go when I hit the river, but for some reason I wanted to dry fly fish so I swapped out the nymphs and split shot for a Mackay Special -- a size 8 dry that resembles a crane fly. I fished it years ago as it had a reputation as a Big Lost River favorite.  The manner of fishing it was skating it across the top rather than dead drifting.  I was in a run about 50 feet across, 6 feet deep, running hard in the center but there was some slack water along the far bank.  I cast slightly down and across and began skating the fly.  That's when it got insane!! For about 1 hour as the sun was starting to set over the mountains, dry fly action was explosive.  

My first hookup was a rainbow -- now here;s the fish story -- was pushing 20 inches.  He skyrocketed out of the water, and bolted down the center of the river peeling line out like a marlin on a mission.  No way to work him back upstream, I began chasing him downstream.  After a few minutes -- slack. My leader broke about 3 feet from the fly line.  I should have changed the leader beforehand, but who ever prepares for the big one.  Then I realized I left my tippet spool back in the car - which Eric had. Fortunately I had few more feet of rolled up tangled line from Eric's spinning rod that I had tucked in my vest pocket from Friday night.  Though not tapered, it would do. I was back in the game. And the fish were waiting.  Fish on - landed.  Fish on - land.  Big fish on -- another run downstream and loss.  Fish on, fish on, fish on.  Unbelievable.  I could land the 10 inch rainbows and brookies, but lost 3 legit huge rainbows.  Honestly I don't what I was doing wrong.  I can only figure I had so much line out in the fast water that eventually some slack was created underwater and the fish shook off. 

But it was an amazing hour.  

I had to cross the stream now -- and it was getting dark.  It was not easy, very dangerous, and by all means I should have gotten swept downstream.  I headed back up to the bridge to meet Eric and found him with a fish on and a beautiful brook trout coming to hand.  Last cast - last fish.

Our last cast, last fish of a memorable trip

We headed back to the Bear Bottom Inn, grabbed a couple of cold ones and sat out on the front lawn as twilight set in.  We walked around the quaint neighborhood and there were deer in people's front yards, side yards, driveways, in the street -- totally unafraid of the world going on around them.  This is a pretty special place and I can't wait to come back.

Semper paratus.