TR, St. Joe River, Idaho

I fished for about three hours yesterday evening on the St. Joe around
Gold Creek. I had never fished this river before, but I had a hunch
that it might be satisfactory based on guide books and personal
reports. It was very satisfactory indeed.

I stopped in St. Regis, MT, before heading over the Bitterroot crest to
the St. Joe. Jackie Sanford at Clark Fork Trout and Tackle in St. Regis
said that the river had been fishing well...always a good omen. The
flow was reportedly around 900 cfs, and the suggested flies were, for
the most part, big, bushy, and familiar: stimulators, golden stones,
parachute adams, PMDs, and prince nymphs.

The drive from St. Regis took about an hour over a good forest service
road that transitioned from a well-maintained 40-mph/4th-gear gravel
road in Montana to pavement at the Idaho border. I reached the river
around 5:30 pm at the Gold Creek junction, in the middle of the
catch-and-release section, pulled off the road right there into a paved
parking area, and pulled on my waders. I was half hoping to catch
something right off but ready to settle for a couple of practice casts
since I had pulled into a very accessible and visible stretch of the
river, a stretch that probably got a lot of pressure.

The river was clear and easily wadeable, and the water looked very
fishy right where I had pulled off. I cast without success to the
calmer water on either side of a choppy slot without success, but when
I got the fly, a size 6 or so yellow stone imitation, right into the
middle of the choppy water, a 14-inch cutt hit the fly. It broke off
while I was trying to "Ketchum Release" it.

I moved upstream about 100 yards to a smoother stretch where there were
spashy rises and some larger, more measured takes. I caught a couple of
smaller ones (8-10 inches) but couldn't get the big ones interested in
the big bush that I was chucking out there. So I downsized to a size 14
adams, still with no luck.

But something happened while I was false casting in that stretch. It
was like every cast back and forth was pumping happiness back into my
heart. It was a feeling that I hadn't had in years, fishing or
otherwise. I hadn't been fishing in a place this nice for years, and
I'd forgotten just how great it can be.

After finishing out the stretch I had been fishing, I walked back to my
car and drove downstream about a mile. I saw another long relatively
smooth run with some riseforms and pulled over. I caught about 6 more
smaller ones, and after I had put down the rest of the fish, I dredged
the run with a huge weighted golden stone nymph and caught a 15"
beauty, the fish of the day. I broke down my rod after that fish,
figuring it wouldn't get much better.

I drove the 75 miles or so downstream to St Maries instead of leaving
the way I came in. I passed a number of long, clear slicks, most of
them dotted with at least few riseforms. My last memory of the river
was of driving by a long slick at dusk. There was just enough light to
see a series of concentric rings spreading against the far bank.