Nate O Taylor

Food, Fishing, and Outdoor Adventures

Adventures on a Rocky Creek

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In an attempt to extend the salmonfly season I ventured off with my father to search for what might be the last fishable salmonfly hatch of 2010 (for me). With the state preparing to close the river for floating in the next several days it was our best shot to cover all of the water we could and coax a couple dumb trout to some huge bugs.

The bigger the better

This plan was by no means ill-conceived. In fact, I was currently batting 3/3 over the last 3 seasons on this same weekend and was hoping to continue my pursuit towards DiMaggio’s record with another crushing victory. Mother nature hadn’t been cooperating in the preceding weeks with unseasonably cool weather and an abundance of rain that kept the water cold and high. The day began slow, but not unusually so. We picked up a couple fish out of the gate at 9am and I was confident we were on our way to at least an easy bloop single. After 3 cigars, and a Vitamin Water Acai Berry we decided to take lunch early to allow the water to warm slightly and give us the largest window for trout activity.

Anyone climb?

Just as I was pulling into second base and getting ready to turn on the jets for yet another homer, disaster struck. Clouds blew in, (and obviously wind…I said they blew in) and the rain began. For about an hour we battled the elements as the temperature dropped what seemed like 25 degrees instantly. Then, just as quickly as it began it was over, sunlight returned and my confidence was restored. Unfortunately this cycle repeated itself continuously for the next 5 hours. This put a substantial damper on our fish count for the day but not my ego. It by no means put a halt to my pursuit towards DiMaggio, but it was the equivalent of going 1-4 with a single that should have been scored a fielders choice. This river usually gives it up in spades, and is like a crack addict with no self control. Generally if they see anything thats absorbing sunlight on the surface they will just attack it. I guess when you’re starving from being under the ice for the better part of 6 months anything looks good. While not entirely the case today I’ll take it, along with a grip load of guys like this.

Keeping the streak alive

A Much Needed Pep-Talk

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I’ll be perfectly honest. I haven’t had the greatest days recently. It seems like my summer is having trouble getting started. The solution, of course, was to call up my friend Michael Gracie.

All in a days work

Gracie: “Where do you want to go?”
Me: “The Yampa”
Gracie: “Enough said…”

With that brief exchange of pleasantries we decided to depart on Friday after I dropped my lady friend off at the airport for a bachelorette party in Minnesota.

The Yampa is my cure-all, for some reason no matter what is going on I can always have a good day there and I needed it more than ever. Despite some traffic delays we

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Ready for anything


arrived at 7pm where I immediately realized that it was a good decision to make this drive. Instead of feeling content with an evening beat down I was hungry for a full day going after these fish.

The fish did not disappoint. On Saturday the God of Fishing saw it fit to shine glory upon me and I relished in the moment. We were attacked by swarms of PMD’s throughout the late morning that allowed us to get in some nice topwater action. By 3 o’clock we decided to give the fish and ourselves a rest. Afterall, my stomach was a little upset after a breakfast of mac n’ cheese. Beer would help that…

Breakfast

The following morning, nursing a mild hangover, I again made my deluxe breakfast and headed out to the stream. It was another day that wouldn’t be soon forgotten. I was able to fish my PMD cripples and Gracie even got a number of fish to indulge themselves on his favorite pattern, “Beav’s Better Buckskin”. The slump is over, the world has righted itself and I am a new man. The only bad news is that I forgot to pick the girlfriend up from the airport. It happens…

A rare Yampa brown

They Have Arrived

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For me Memorial Day is booked for years in advance. Like clockwork every year on Memorial Day the annual Salmonfly hatch blows up on the Colorado. This year the water did not cooperate as it has in years past. A cool spring coupled with a well timed heat wave caused the river to swell literally overnight.

Chocolate milk

Chocolate milk

My Memorial Day fishing wasn’t memorable as it usually is but it did allow me to see those behemoths that have been dormant for years on the river bottom. Their flight patterns make you wonder if they suffer from the same brain malfunctions that NFL quarterbacks have after Ray Lewis has his way with them for the better part of a decade. Despite a lackluster fish count, Salmonflies are so prehistoric that it makes any day you have with them memorable.

If you haven’t seen one of these hatches let me tell you its worth every second. I would fly from across the country to be a part of it. While I’m fortunate enough to have both the Colorado and Gunnison Rivers in my backyard, Rock Creek in Montana and of course the Henry’s Fork in Idaho also have legendary hatches. Just bring some 3X and the biggest dries you have. Oh, and be on time.

Yummy

Yummy