The clouds grew dark and heavy and hovered over the giant canyon like battleships on a mission. With each progressive step forward I could feel the swelling, tearing, the pain - a pain that reminded me vividly of when I first entered the canyon floor just the day before. Come on, you can do it.. I told myself. Every switch back felt like a feat, a major accomplishment that would never end. Out of all hikes, and out of all places my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) had to give up here. It was a race against time. The cold-front was moving in fast and a heavy blizzard was in the forecast. It is hard to believe that just the day before, the weather was perfect. Blue sky, warm air, slight breeze and the fishing was spectacular.
At approx. 9:30am Friday, March 16 2012 the Grand Canyon shuttle bus was coming to a stop at the south Kaibab trail head. The shuttle was packed full of backpackers with many having to stand up. I casually scanned the crowd looking for fishing rods of any kind, hoping that I would see none as I selfishly wanted the creek to myself. It was my 30th birthday after all, and all I wanted was that surreal experience of becoming mentally lost of time and place that only certain trout streams can provide me. It is a mental state that I call fish-mode and it could only be understood by other fly fisherman. It is a state of mind that draws me into the environment, dialed into the entomology, dialed into the stream and its hiding places for trout, only to be discovered with a well presented fly. Time is forgotten and the last cast always leads to another. It has something to do with gin clear water, moss coated boulders and the hypnotic motion of the current - all qualities of a quality freestone stream and bright angel creek more than qualifies.
The trail descended quickly into the canyon. Snow dusted Pinyon pines and Junipers on the upper ridge of south Kaibab vanished as each switchback threw us into hotter and drier conditions. The trail length is approx. 7 miles from the trail head to bright angel campground. We were just about two miles in when we stopped for our first break.
The landscape looked straight out of some old western movie. It was hard to believe that a phenomenal trout fishery exists within this otherwise harsh environment.
The mule pack service shuttles food and supplies down to Phantom Ranch, as well as feeble souls that cannot endure the hike. I may have needed this on the way out...
Astragalus species of unknown status to me. I was especially drawn by the glaucus leaves and its composition with the rock. This was a particular interesting section along the trail which was inhabited with wild flowers that were not noticed elsewhere.
And so the switchbacks continued on and on. Like a staircase into an unknown abyss. The photo on the left has a small post on the upper right hand corner that indicated the half way mark between the trailhead and bright angel camp.
The last set of switchbacks roughly 5 miles in finally shed a glimpse of the mighty Colorado river! My legs began moving with haste and my spirit burned stronger to get to the water.
The view of the Colorado river expanded as we followed the ridge line into the final descent. It was a beautiful sight when we first saw it in its entirety. Bright Angel canyon can be seen to the right of the lower photo. Cottonwood trees line Bright Angel creek.
My right knee was becoming weary during the last mile to the campground. My pace began to slow and a sharp pain struck my knee with each step forward. I've had problems with my right knee in the past, but nothing like this. I was reduced to hopping on my left foot like some old 49er with a peg leg. I stopped to rest momentarily at my ladies request despite my spirit's eagerness to press on. Remember, I have yet to land a damn fish the entire week of my trip and a bummed knee wasn't going to stop me.
Stumbling into Bright Angel camp, I immediately detach my backpack straps and drop my gear like Leonidas from 300. I head down to the water and plunge my legs into the creek. My knee was screaming with pain and I had to reduce swelling quick. The water was snow-melt cold despite the desert surrounding. My eyes scout for moving trout as my legs restore. I saw nothing.
After observing the creek and getting a feel of the water depth, I felt that czech nymping would be the most effective method of fishing here. I cut Erika's 5x tapered leader down from 8' to 6' and tied size 16 American PT as the point fly and a size 12 Prince variant that I tied with marabou as the tail with a few strands of krystal flash. The Prince varient was the trailing fly and it proved to be deadly. I wanted a big fish so I tied a size 10 black conehead Woolly Bugger on 4' of straight 8lb mono.
We enter the canyon armed and ready. I see a perfect under-cut where the creek bends and spot several trout in the 10"+ range. My excitement soars and I feel like a kid in a candy store. I cast into the riffle upstream and dead-drift my fly through the run. No takes. As soon as I begin another cast I hear screaming and I look back and notice Erika's moving her hands around like their on fire. She managed to hook her finger with the 16 PT and it was jammed into where the hook bends. Erika panicked and I hoped that the hook was De-barbed. I pulled out my leatherman and told her to look away. The hook was too small to push through to De-barb and my only option was to pull it straight out like a loose tooth. When Erika looked back at her finger the hook was already out and to our luck it was not barbed. ALWAYS De-barb your hooks!
With no significant blood loss, we fished on. I gave the nice run to Erika to try her hand at czech nymping. I headed downstream and fished a run which lead into a small pool.
First fish of the day! but not mine. As I was dead-drifting my streamer in the current I hear Erika cheering up stream, I look over and her 5wt bent over while she is managing it to hand. I rushed over to help net the trout. It was a beautiful 12" rainbow with a rose colored gill plates and reddish-orange lateral line. There were no parr marks on this trout and it looked cutthroat-ish however it did not have the slash marks under the jaw. Nice catch! I am proud of you!
I returned down stream and resumed fishing the run. My first cast produced a solid strike and I missed. Shit. Second cast and it hit again, this time it stayed on. It fought well for its size but since I was fishing with a 6wt it came to hand pretty quick. This rainbow looked more like the rainbows back home. The scales were bronze and it was spotted more heavily than the trout caught upstream. The trout also had dark parr marks and looked like a post spawn male based on the roughed up skin. This fish probably measure somewhere in the 11-12' range.
Bright Angel creek never ceased to impress me. This spot in particular mesmerized me. I just cant describe this place and do it justice with mere words. At this point I switched my woolly bugger for a size 16 red copper John as my point fly and trailed it with a size 10 stonefly nypmh. I czech nymped this area and connected with a pretty brown trout lurking in a shallow run.
The brown wasn't a monster but it fought like a champion and managed to put a good bend on the 6wt. It was a pretty fish nonetheless.
We hiked upstream and stopped at a tributary. I fished the confluence and on my first cast I felt a hard strike on my nymph. By now I had lost several nymphs on underwater structure, so I tied on my Ice Hare SH nymph that has been getting me many fish lately. This was my point fly and I cannot remember what the second fly was. I think it may have been a tung head caddis larva. Anyways, after landing the fish I was kind of shocked and disgusted at the same time.
This was one weird looking rainbow. It must have been 14-15" long but it was really skinny. It had a body of a mackerel or something. I don't know what was with this fish, but I didn't really like the looks of it.
I must have caught at least a dozen of these guys in a shallow tail out of the confluence. Just about every cast got hit. These trout are common in look and size as the ones in my home waters in the San Gabriel Mountains. The day light was dimming as it set behind the towering walls of the Grand Canyon. I was getting hungry and the pain in my knee was returning yet I did not want to stop fishing. I knew Erika was getting hungry and tired and our dinner reservation at Phantom Ranch was approaching. We hiked back into the sunset and talked about our catches of the day.
Dinner at Phantom ranch was great. I failed to photograph the event which I now regret. I was most likely so hungry that nothing else really mattered. The dinner was more than filling and the dinner option that I selected was the steak chili. Two more options was the steak dinner and vegetarian chili. Based on reviews, the steak was pretty average and most people preferred the steak chili. I was not disappointed with this choice. The sides included corn bread, salad and finished with chocolate cake. Second servings are welcomed and I was beyond full by the time I finished my second bowl of chili. Beer and wine was also available but at a price. It was about 4 bucks for domestic beer but at least it helped sooth the pain. After a brief and somewhat embarrassing birthday announcement we headed to the ranger presentation that discussed the several animal species endemic to the national park as well as the trout reduction plan. That's right, the NPS does not want trout of any species in any part of the watershed within the park boundaries. Apparently the trout are reducing the population of the native fish species. I personally feel the problem it is the cold water released from Glen Canyon reservoir making for happier trout conditions.
We were dead tired and returned to camp to hit the sack. My REI brand trekker lite sleeping pad probably has a thousand pin holes in it and made for a restless night... I gave up trying to inflate it and kept my mind distracted by studying a topographic map of the Grand Canyon in the light of my headlamp. I chose a few fishy way points before my eye lids became heavy and the vivid clarity of the stars became a dim memory as they finally put me to sleep.
Good morning deer. We woke up to the sound of foraging deer throughout the campground. They were everywhere and had no fear of humans. I broke down camp and packed my gear so all we had to do was pick up our backpacks when we came back from fishing. The rods were already rigged and we headed back upstream, leaving camp around 7am. The plan was to return around 10am since we still had a 9 mile hike out.
These are the cabins at Phantom Ranch. I wouldn't mind staying in one of these in the future. Maybe when I'm an old man with some money to spare. Until then, I'll continue sleeping on the ground.
On my map I had marked the location of what seemed like a big confluence, however it was at least 5 miles upstream. We just didn't have enough time and it would have added an additional 10 miles to our 9 mile hike out. I changed my strategy and decided to return to some areas where I sighted and spooked several large fish from the day before. This strategy paid off.
My first fish of the morning was this nice specimen caught along an undercut of a bank. I sighted it the day before but it would not take my offerings. This beautiful specimen fell for my size 16 Ice Hare SH. Look at the size of that head!
This is by far the best specimen that I have been fortunate enough to land and photograph on this trip. While it wasn't the 20" trophy that I was looking for, it was a healthy 16-17incher with beautiful color. This fish was nearly spotless with a greenish bronze coloration and steelhead-like rosy gill plates. This fish reminded me of the cutthroat trout that I have caught in Colorado, however this fish lacked the cutthroat markings. By the size and strength of this fish, it had to be a Colorado river migrant.
My adrenaline soared and if I had not caught another fish this morning, I would have still been satisfied. I pressed on and stopped at another run where I had sighted even a larger fish the day before.
After a few drifts with my team of nymphs I connected with this feisty
rainbow. It was not the monster fish that I was after but it was spunky
and beautiful. It gave several hard pulls and jumps.
This was the last hole that I fished before hiking out. This is also where I lost the largest brown trout of this trip. It is difficult to say how large it measured but if I were to guess it would have been in the 16-17" range. I was inches from landing it and it gave several hard head shakes that broke the tippet. Bummer.
We stopped at Phantom Ranch to pick up our sack lunch which included a bagel, cream cheese, salami sausage, electrolyte powder, trail mix among other snacks. Everything was of high calorie to push people out of this grand canyon.
I decided to stop and fish the mighty Colorado river before leaving the canyon. I just had to do it. It is a pretty intimidating river to fish. It is deep, fast moving and scary. My fly of choice here was a size 8 black bugger with prismatic eyes. I cast my fly into the mighty river and watched the fly sink into the green abyss. Strip, strip, strip and bang! my line stops and pulls hard. I lift my rod tip and fight back only to have the fly pop off and nearly hit me in the face. This is first and last time that I would feel the fight of a fish on the mighty Colorado. Until next time..
Saying goodbye to Bright Angel Canyon and the Colorado river. Crossing silver bridge was a little hair raising with the high winds picking up from the storm front. Notice the ominous dark clouds in the horizon.
The storm was chasing us out and it was a long winded hike back to the rim. It was a fitting end to a grand finale that has given me timeless memories of spending time with the people that I love, the environments that I love and the sport of fly fishing. I would do it again in a heart beat.
Snowed in at the Grand Canyon... that's a story on its own. Lets just say it gave me another day to play in the park.
