According to the fishing author John Gierach, when the fishing is slow and people wonder about how good the river is, the old timers invariably respond: “They’re in there”. That seems to happen a lot with the Rio Grande, which is considered, hereabouts,  a very fickle river. There are times when the river is “dead”, meaning that you’re getting no action whatsoever, and you wonder what’s going on.

Before commenting further, I should mention which fish I’m talking about. Most of the sport fishermen are after trout. Of course there are no longer any Rio Grande cutthroats in the Rio Grande main stem. There are stocker rainbows, which generally get cleaned-out pretty quick … and there are browns. These browns, like most encountered elsewhere, are wild fish. Although introduced from across the Atlantic way back when, they are now very “native”, in that they maintain their numbers very well without any help from Game and Fish agencies. They are also very resilient, being able to subsist under conditions that other trouts find intolerable. They can “live in a cup of coffee”, according to one local expert on the matter. Now, browns are thought to be “smart”. But they’re probably no smarter than any other trout, everything else being equal. What may distinguish them from other trout is how often they feed. They seem often to be afflicted with what my friend John Lopez describes as “lockjaw”. Perhaps they feed only when there is an abundance of food available. Who knows?

Lately, we have been seeing great “hatches” on the Rio, along with water levels that make it possible for fishermen to locate feeding fish. The hatches mentioned are occasions when multitudes of the winged forms of aquatic insects appear on and above the water, to mate and die. There are many families of insects that may appear together, including different species of caddis flies, mayflies, stoneflies, crane flies etc. and they are all emerging now. The fish (not to mention the swallows) are loving it, and have abandoned all caution, to get in on the feast.

Yesterday afternoon I returned to a piece of water that had recently rewarded me with good dry fly fishing. I had caught a number of brown trout on that occasion, and although only the very little ones were rising (to caddis), I wondered whether the bigger ones were “looking up”, and discovered that they were. But I didn’t use a fly pattern that corresponded to caddis. Instead, I used my favorite “attractor” pattern, a fly that looks very “buggy”, and that could be mistaken for any number of insects. When I first arrived yesterday I didn’t see many bugs in the air, and started with a weighted fly called  a “Bitch Creek”. I caught one brown on that fly and then waded to the opposite side of the river, hoping to see bugs coming off the water.  Soon there were all kinds of bugs flying around, especially a rusty-colored mayfly that was hovering close to the water’s surface. And then I saw trout leaping out of the water to grab these mayflies. I was in luck (as they say). I tied on the very same fly I had used last time and started to catch fish – all brown trout. I caught the ones that were leaping and I caught ones that were sipping bugs directly off the surface, occasionally on consecutive casts. I caught some that were rising directly under the grassy banks. I probably hooked twelve in all, within the space of an hour.

No, these brown trout were anything but smart. They were greedy (just like you and me). The dinner bell had rung, and they responded. Soon enough the main insect activity was over, at about the time I had fished myself to the head of the riffle. I waded back across and walked the hundred yards to the car. Now I was thinking about dinner.

As water levels lower the fly fishing is improving on the Racecourse. We catch smallmouth bass and both rainbow and brown trout. We like to float fish this stretch in the evening. We get whitewater excitement and fishing action at the same time.

New Wave Pres. Kathy Miller admires a fat smallmouth bass caught on a Woolly Bugger.

Our big cottonwood

I’m not the first to observe how much more you appreciate home after returning from time away. Kathy and I have traveled a lot in the last two months (and we’re probably not finished yet), but feel very fortunate to be back home at this time of year. This is the time of year, of course, when the cottonwoods go gold, bringing magic to the river banks.

The Rio Grande, in the Bosque stretch

Yesterday afternoon, Kathy and I took out our canoe, for a 4-mile trip downstream, from our place to Embudo Station, a riverside restaurant. I was up front, with my fly rod, while Kathy navigated from the rear. The river remains low and clear, good for fishing. I caught two brown trout, both in fast water. I was using a purple bunny jig, which has a lot of wiggle. The day before I landed a nice pike, along with a few rainbows, up in the Orilla Verde section – and using the same fly.

Brown trout, caught in the Bosque stretch of the Rio Grande

The mild weather we’ve been enjoying since we’re back is soon to be replaced by rain and snow at higher elevations, as a storm system sweeps in from the west. We’ll rejoice in that, when it arrives, because we’re now looking forward to our winter occupation – teaching skiing at Taos Ski Valley. If we get sufficient late Fall snows the Ski Valley could open up by Thanksgiving. If not, then sometime around Dec. 15.

Great Northern Pike, caught in the Orilla Verde section of the Rio Grande, near Taos, New Mexico

It’s likely that we’ll spend the next few weeks at South Padre Island, Texas, just a few miles away from where the Rio Grande (yes, the same Rio Grande) runs into the Gulf of Mexico. We have a small travel trailer (and fishing boat) in storage down there, which we’ll set up at the Isla Blanca County Park, in the company of the “snowbirds” (aka winter Texans), who spend the entire winter there. The main attractions of the place are that it’s practically tropical (at the same latitude as Fort Lauderdale), it’s not too long a drive from New Mexico, it’s a relatively inexpensive way to live, AND, the fishing is great!

This big Redfish puts a big smile on my face

And then, it’ll be time to go skiing. Come ski with us!

Kathy and Steve Miller, Ski Instructors at Taos Ski Valley, New Mexico

You may recall from an earlier post that Kathy and I were bugging-out early, because we had been invited on a Middle Fork trip, and simply could not pass-up  such an opportunity. The Middle Fork was a week of bliss, with fabulous weather and non-stop fishing, catching native cutthroat trout on hopper patterns, all day, every day. Then we headed for the fabled Henry’s Fork, for more fishing. And next door was Yellowstone, with the most fantastic array of scenic and wildlfe wonders in the world. We returned via Flaming Gorge (but didn’t fish) and our own San Juan river. I’ll be putting-up a series of posts in coming days, showing you some of those wonders. Stay tuned!

Meanwhile, our capable staff finished off the rafting season, and, with final figures in , we improved our numbers over last year! Given the prevailing economic malaise we are all painfully aware of, we are more than pleased with this result. Thanks to every one of you 4937 guests we had the pleasure to serve this season.

Thanks also to Britt and Jenni for their posts while we were away. You have to agree that Britt’s photography is first-rate. And today, 9/5, is the occasion of Jenni and Patrick’s wedding, the subject of Jenni’s earlier post. Congratulations to the two of you, and we are looking forward to the event, now just a couple of hours away. We know that Jenny will be a beautiful bride.

Here’s a photo from Yellowstone:

This bull elk was photographed while grazing alongside the highway, between West Yellowstone and Madison Junction. Like the bison of Yellowstone, he was very nonchalant about all the people that came pouring out of their cars to take his picture.

Did I go fishing AGAIN last evening? Well, since my wife Kathy was still out of town (visiting the grandkids), you bet I did. I had no action until the sun fell behind the cliffs. I had changed from a Woolly Bugger to  a hopper pattern (Turk’s Tarantula) and, at one point,  was dragging it behind me as I waded upstream. Would you believe it? Right, a bass grabbed it – a nice chunky bass that fought hard. Fish grab dragged flies often enough to convince me that they can’t resist a moving fly, even a hopper doing what no hopper does naturally. Following that excitement, fish began to rise here and there. Those evening risers are usually brown trout, which often don’t bite at other times of the day. I put on a #16 Elk Hair Caddis, which serves as a good imitation of both mayflies and caddis. And there was a variety of both insect types flying around and riding the surface film. I cast to a rising fish and he (she?) took it. It was a beautifully-colored 9″ brown trout, which I slipped back into the water. As it got darker other browns began to leap out of the water, as they chased after insects. But they were out of casting range, so I called it a night.

Smallmouth bass caught in the Orilla Verde section of the Rio Grande river, near Taos, New Mexico

Yesterday was good and hot, and there’s no better way to beat the heat than to be wet-wading in the Rio. Bill Gould came up from Santa Fe and we went out together. The fishing wasn’t great, but I did get a rainbow trout on a hopper pattern – a first for the summer. A few drops of rain fell, and a rainbow made a brief appearance. We were fishing in the vicinity of my favorite tree – a big Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa). These trees usually grow at higher altitudes at this latitude, because they require more moisture than is usually available at 6000′, the altitude of the river in the canyon. But the riparian zone that borders the river does have sufficient moisture to support a big tree like this

Ponderosa pine on the Racecourse section of the Rio Grande river, near Taos, New Mexico

one.

The high water of  April, May and June is now behind us, and the river is running low and clear, except when rain storms muddy it up for a short while. Living (as I do)  on the river, I can fish right in my backyard, or drive upstream a few minutes to the Racecourse or Orilla Verde sections. I’ve been going out most evenings for the last week or so, and always catch something – that something being either rainbows, browns,  smallmouth bass or  an occasional small pike (the big pike invariably bite through the mono leader on the strike). I’ve been using mostly cone-head Woolly Buggers and fly rod jigs, but last evening I spotted some rising fish and got one on a #16 Elk Hair Caddis dry fly. There are many different bugs flying around in the evening hours, including different species of mayflies and caddis – and mosquitoes, of course. Pictured here is a rainbow caught on a bugger a couple of days ago, and a beautiful stretch of river in the vicinity of the Rio Bravo campground, in Orilla Verde Recreation Area. By the way, I carry an Olympus Stylus 1030SW camera that goes in my breast pocket. It’s 10 MP, waterproof and shockproof – the perfect fishing and rafting camera. It’s basically indestructible. I don’t go anywhere without it