Weather: Blizzard, breezy
Moon Phase: 32% Moon
Location: Newton Reservoir
Bait: Small ice fly tipped with wax worm
Who Went: Rick, his buddy Chad and 13 year old son Zack, Me
The forecast for Wednesday called for snow, snow and more snow! Unfortunately for me it was the only day that I could get out and go fishing over the holiday break, so we braved the storm and headed north to Newton Reservoir in search of some hungry crappies and maybe even a bonus Tiger Musky. As we drove north on I-15 passing Brigham City the rain turned to snow and a semi had lost control and sat off the side of the road jack knifed. We slowed our speeds and the hour and a half drive became closer to three. Once we got there we noticed that the edges of the reservoir was a little soft looking and realized after hiking down the boat ramp that there was a ten foot perimeter of slush and no ice around the entire lake. For the next hour we made a make-shift plank out of any logs and branches we could find. It wasn’t pretty, but it got us from shore and onto safe ice. Rick pulled each of our three sleds over the slush with a rope and off we went to find our crappie honey hole.
It was already 4:30 and we left ourselves about one hour to get the ice shanty’s up and settle in for the evening. Rick caught a little 5-inch largemouth bass before we were even set up to fish and little did we know that there would only be one more fish caught all night! Soon after we were settled and finally began fishing, Rick landed the last fish of the night with a wiry looking little crappie. No pictures were taken as I was sure there would be better opportunities to take pictures, but I was wrong. We wasted a good 4 hours sitting in our heated tent catching nothing, with little motivation to clean up all our gear and drive home in the blizzard that awaited us. Around 9:00 p.m. we couldn’t take it anymore and cleaned up our gear and left. One interesting thing did happen to me while we were packing up our gear that I've yet to experience while ice fishing. As we were breaking down our ice shanty my right foot slipped into one of the holes we drilled and I went straight through all the way to my crotch! My right leg was completely soaked and to make matters worse my left leg went in the water while crossing back over our branchy plank from ice to land. I got to drive all the way home in a blizzard with two wet legs. It took us a good two hours to get home and I finally crawled in bed at 12:30 a.m. All said and done I should have stayed home and watched the blizzard of 2010 from my window!
John and I both had the day off work today and wanted to wet a line, but a lot of the lakes are beginning to get that hard icy layer on top so our options were limited. I saw a report late last night about the white bass hitting like crazy down at Utah Lake and supposedly there was a solid 6-inch layer of ice to fish on. The report had us sold and we switched our thoughts from fishing soft water to fishing the hard deck. We arrived at the pump house at Utah Lake around 8 a.m., only to find a parking lot full of cars. The secret is out! The ice was covered with fisherman and I guess we weren’t the only ones reading fishing reports late last night. After talking to a few fishermen and getting reports of slow fishing, we decided to ditch the masses and try a different location.
We landed a few more here and there, and then like a light switch it turned on! We started yanking them out one after another. The instant you sent your jig down the ice hole you were bringing it right back up with a fish on. The size of the white bass was average, but we did get two bonus crappie and one bluegill and perch. About half of them went home as fish tacos and the other half went back to repopulate the lake. This would be a great place to take your kids as they would have a blast catching white bass all day long. The only problem is the white bass bonanza doesn’t last long and then they become very tough to locate. So get down there!
Rick and I went to Strawberry in hopes of sneaking one more trip on the boat before putting her away for the winter. Let’s just say, we were pushing the limits. The day started out with a flat tire on the boat trailer, so bad that the tire un-seated from the rim. We were also pulling the boat with my new Yukon and had too low of a receiver hitch to get the trailer off the jack wheel. On the drive up, we watched the temperature steadily drop down all the way to 8 below zero by the time we pulled up to the ramp.
The boat ramp was icy and covered in snow. Luckily, the other die-hard fisherman that was up there had a plow on the front of his truck and took care of the snow so we only had to deal with the ice. Finally with the boat launched, Rick was able to crawl my Yukon off the icy ramp, and it was time to set off into the thick fog for some fishing….or not.
What we ended up doing was just running the engine until the overheat beep warning sounded, then let it cool for a few minutes and did it again. It cleared after about the third time. Went to drop the thrust motor in the water, and the shaft was frozen to the collar where you adjust the height so we were without its services for awhile.
It finally thawed after a couple hours, but up until then we relied on a little icy wind to give us a drift. We started our day by fishing in Strawberry Bay over near the visitor’s station.
Soon after catching the big one I noticed I had some thick ice at the end of my line and when I went to chip it off I took the tip of my pole with it. Just add it to the list for the day. We continued fishing around the lake hitting various spots including Renegade and the mouth of the narrows. The mouth of the narrows ended up being the most productive area with each of us landing close to 10 fish each. Using the classic white tube jig tipped with a shiner, and dragging it along the bottom in about 25-35 feet seemed to work best. Rick landed one slot buster with a nice 3.5 pound cutthroat, but most our fish were in the slot with a few smaller rainbows. Ugly hat by the way!
We worked the shallower water for a bit with some crank baits and swim baits, but that only produced 2 or 3 fish. By 1:00 the fishing had completely shut off and even though we continued fishing for 2 more hours we didn’t get any more bites and the fish finder went blank, so we called it a day.
My buddy Corey has been boasting about the Hams Fork River in Wyoming for a few years now, and has pictures to prove there are some big rainbows and cuttbows living there. We finally planned an outing and wouldn’t you know it I got sick two days before our trip. I invited Rick to go along with us, but he and Corey don't know each other and I felt like I was the glue holding the whole trip together, so I toughed it out and went anyway. The forecast for weather was ugly with a 40% chance of snow, a high of 31 degrees, and winds up to 30 mph. We were on the road by 5:00 a.m. and reached the Hams Fork by 7:00 a.m. The winds were already whipping and the temperature gauge on Ricks Jeep read 26 degrees. We rigged up our fly rods and by the time we were done we couldn’t feel our hands. We jumped back in the jeep to warm them for a minute and then made the hike down to the river. Once we made our way down to the river, Corey and Rick immediately started fishing and I sat on the river bank trying to catch my breath. I suddenly got very nauseated and felt like I was going to throw up. I dry heaved a few times, but to no avail and then sat on my knees as darkness started closing in around my vision. Right before I was about to pass out the darkness started to disappear and my vision went back to normal. Thoughts of why I even made the trip started crossing my mind and I knew I was going to have to take it really slow. Rick and I made our way down river looking for some deeper holes to fish. The river was very low and filled with moss. Corey went the opposite direction and headed upstream towards the dam of Lake Viva Naughton. We didn’t see Corey again until the end of the day. Rick caught one small rainbow just below some riffles on a somewhat deeper stretch, but besides his one fish we traveled a long distance downriver without seeing or catching anything. We finally came to a spot on a bend where the river looked fairly deep and Rick and I both felt there had to be fish there. We tied up some streamers and began casting towards the opposite river bank and within no time Rick had a hit, but missed. Finally after a few more missed hits, Rick landed a nice 18-inch rainbow and it gave us new confidence that there were fish in this river.
As more time went by Rick continued to catch fish while I struggled with my casting and became very frustrated.
I tried many different streamers trying to replicate exactly what Rick was doing, but it didn’t seem to matter.
I finally had a few hits, but missed horribly and the frustration only got worse. Rick hooked up with a nice cuttbow (we think) that put up a good fight and took big fish honors for the day.
We didn’t measure or weigh the fish, but my guess is 20+ inches and around 3-3.5 pounds.
It was a gorgeous fish with dark red gill-plates and a body covered with dark black spots.
The fishing in the deep hole finally began to slow down and I knew Rick had fished it out, so we headed downstream a little further, but never found anymore deep holes to fish. We headed back upstream hoping to find that Corey had found a few deep holes to fish, but when we finally met up with him he announced that he was fishless just like me. We knew the fish were holding in the deeper holes, but there just wasn't any around with the water being low, so we made our way back to the jeep and drove down river a bit to find some deeper water. We ended up stopping right below Kemmerer Reservoir to fish the deep pool that was right below the dam. Rick had one hit with no hook up and Corey and I were left with the ugly skunk smell on our hands! By the time we made it back to the jeep the snow began to fly and dropped a few inches in less than a half hour. It made for a slow drive home, with cars off the side of the road and snow packed roads. Welcome to Wyoming! Rick ended up catching about 8-9 fish and proved that his fly fishing skills trump my beginner skills tenfold! The weather and fishing were miserable and I probably never should have left the house feeling the way I did, but looking back on it, I’m glad I got up there!
Rick let me work the first group and it wasn’t long before I worked out the rust on the old fly rod and landed my first fish of the day with this 25 inch, 5 ½ pound female with a belly full of eggs!
I couldn’t believe it and I already thought my day couldn’t get any better, but once again, I was wrong! We worked a lot of good areas and missed a bunch of hook-sets and had fish spit our hooks consistently, but we also worked some more successful areas where we caught a few fish each and all were over the 24 inch mark and in the 5-7 pound range, with the biggest being this bruiser that Rick caught. We didn’t get a tape on him but he was a big hook jawed male that was probably around 27 inches long and around 7 pounds!
I don’t know what my biggest fish of the day was, but it was probably another big male going around 26 inches and probably 6 pounds.
The whole time I was fishing this river I felt like I was in heaven or living out a dream in my head. Fishing doesn’t get any better than what I experienced and I want to thank Rick for letting me in on an unbelievable untouched secret on the Bear River!
Once we got to Deep Creek I loaded up my float tube with all my gear and made the short 100 yard walk to the lake. The lake is just as I remembered it and looked so cool with the quakies in full fall colors!
I launched the tube and began casting and jigging an olive marabou jig working the shorelines and the middle of the lake. Soon after launching my tube, my dad made his way up the mountain and hiked to the far end of the lake where he slowly rigged up his famous worm and power nugget combo and casted only ten feet from the opposite shoreline.
I continued to fish almost every inch of the lake without a bite and then looked over to see my dad reeling in a nice 15-16 inch Brook Trout with beautiful pre-spawn colors. We took a picture, sent him on his way, and went back to fishing.
My old man still has the Brook Trout touch, but unfortunately it ended up being the only fish caught all day. Deep Creek holds some nice Brook Trout, but has never been known for giving away many fish. Saturday we woke up early and went looking for some antelope on the Parker Mountain. We were shocked and disappointed in how many hunters we saw and how few antelope were on the mountain. The DNR has removed a lot of antelope from the Parker to repopulate other areas of the state and it looks as if they may have taken a few too many. With a tough winter last year and the relocation program that’s taken place by the Division of Wildlife Resources, the antelope heards look like they have been obliterated. It didn’t help that they also combined what is usually an early hunt and a late hunt into one big hunt giving out over 300 tags, which made the mountain look like Disneyland with people everywhere! We were so discouraged that we didn’t even go back to hunt that evening, but went fishing instead. We ran over to the Fremont River to a spot where my dad loves to fish. I put my waders on and headed down river with thoughts of my last trip walking this same stretch of river and catching brown trout one after another. Unfortunately this trip was not a repeat and I only managed one bite and no fish! I couldn’t believe it, I've never been skunked on the Fremont River. The next day my dad and I stopped at Forsyth Reservoir for a quick cast or two before heading home. We both had bites and I had two tiger trout hooked that decided to spit my spinner back in my face. The fish were following my lure all the way to the shoreline, but I never could quite land one. Most people would think it’s a bummer of a fishing trip to not catch anything, and I would usually agree with them, but I don’t get out much with my old man anymore and especially to a place that is so beautiful it leaves you stunned at times. A good fishing trip that I won’t soon forget! Oh and Dad... I'm back as a Yankee fan! 
Just as we were about to lose hope my cousin spotted a four point elk wandering through the trees about 100 yards from us. We contemplated whether it was big enough to shoot, but decided it wasn’t. We hiked up and out of the canyon and met Dick and Dax by the road and headed back to the trailer. We asked Dax what he wanted to do for the afternoon and he adamantly said, “I want to go fishing!” He’s a kid after my own heart. We loaded up the fishing and hunting gear and headed down to the lake. We launched the boat and began fishing, but our spirits unfortunately weren’t as high about fishing as they normally are. Not only was it the worst time of day to fish, but we had been up at 5:00 a.m. hunting and hiking mountains, so we were wore out physically. Not Dax though, he was ready to fish and he was catching them all by himself with no help.
I kept dozing off at the front of the boat and by 4:00 p.m. the hot sun had taken its toll and we decided to hit the mountain and find a shade tree to sit under while we waited for the elk to start to move. We pulled the boat up on shore and anchored it to a pine tree making sure it wouldn’t wander anywhere while we were gone, and then hiked up the mountain to our spot. We waited for three and a half hours watching this canyon without seeing or hearing a dang thing and decided to call it a night early so that we didn’t have to drive the boat back in the dark.
Just as we were walking down the mountain to leave I took my binoculars and glassed a hill that was hidden from where I had just sat for hours. I saw two nice Bulls and a group of cows about a half mile up the canyon. We debated whether we would have enough time to get to them before dark, and decided to go for it. Phil and I ran up the mountain and got into a position where we felt we were pretty close to them. We got on the radio and called down to my Uncle Dick and asked him if the elk were still there. He told us they had wandered over the hill and no sooner after he said that we heard one of the bulls bugle and knew they were not close, so we called it a night. We went back to the trailer and ate more steak and potatoes than you should have in five sittings and then crashed! Next morning we all woke up early again, except Dax, he was not in the mood for another early wakeup call and Phil had to dress him in his sleep, but soon enough he was awake and ready to hunt again. I have to say that Dax is one of the coolest 6 year old kids I’ve been around. He’s not annoying like most kids his age who ask a million questions about nothing and never leave you alone. He kept up with us the whole trip and never complained while hiking or hunting, even when we sat there for four hours straight not making a sound and I felt like I was going to pull my own hair out. He just hung out like the big boys and even declined his coat when I thought I was going to freeze to death! What a little stud!
I also learned quite a few baseball stats over the weekend because Dax’s favorite thing to do is look up baseball scores and stats via internet on his dad’s phone about his favorite team the Brave’s. I tried to recruit him over to the good side and route for the Yankees, but his dad’s pretty much got him brainwashed to be a lifelong Atlanta fan! This morning’s hunt started with Dick driving us around to all the spots where he has seen elk in the past. Dick rides horses up there religiously and knows every nook and cranny of those mountains, so he put us right where the elk were every morning and night. He pulled his truck off to the side of the road and parked it, and we hiked up and over a ridge to a lookout spot and instantly I spotted another bull sitting behind a bush. It was a good find and I felt pretty proud about it! We watched him for probably around a half hour debating whether he was a shooter or not, but came to the decision that it wasn’t quite big enough, and by then the sun was coming up and the day was getting hot, so we called the morning hunt complete and headed back to the trailer. I loaded my gear and got out of there. What a fun trip and good times hunting with the Bringhurst family. I love hiking and being in the mountains looking for big game. Fall is my favorite time of the year by far! 
He was ecstatic with the catch and is now addicted to lake trout fishing the same way I am. It took him 15-20 minutes to reel in and this is probably about 10 minutes longer than the normal fight for a 24 pound lake trout, so I thought it was going to be a 30+ pound fish, but it wasn’t to be. Either way it was a great fish and especially for your first lake trout ever!
About an hour later John hooked up again and landed another lake trout, but this one was smaller at around 8 pounds!
The presentation we used on this trip is what I call the inch-jig method and was taught to me by Captain Jim Williams. Jim is the best fishing guide Flaming Gorge has to offer and has taught me more about the big lake trout up there than I could have learned in a lifetime of fishing there. They are truly a difficult species to catch consistently, and I am not there yet, but I seem to get a little better each time I go. We finished the rest of the day without getting another hit and unfortunately Rick still hasn’t been lucky enough to enjoy the feeling of a big laker on the end of his line, but it will happen! The barrage of fishing boats on Flaming Gorge over the 24th is what I think killed the fishing, and I now realize why Captain Jim always tells me to run as far away from Flaming Gorge as you possibly can on a holiday weekend. Unfortunately for me, I have to go when I get the chance and can’t be picky choosy like he has the luxury of being! There was a considerable difference in the mood of the fish below us in the early morning hours on Saturday, compared to later in the day when there were 50 other boats dropping jigs on them.
The fish showed no interest in our jigs once the clan of other fisherman showed up. Live and learn I suppose! We woke up early on Sunday and fished for 2 hours before we had to be home for other commitments, but the fish were still in a cranky mood and again I think it had to do with all the fishing pressure from the day before. We loaded up and were off the lake by 8 a.m. and home by 11:30. Now I’m being tortured everyday with the thought of when I will get back up there. I just hope it’s sooner rather than later!