Paul Adams – Seasonal Change At Tarryall Creek

The final days of May, Memorial Day weekend in the US. This holiday is touted as an unofficial start to summer, but here in the mountains we are happy to be enjoying spring. Temperatures still dip below freezing at night, but the days warm into the 60’s Fahrenheit, with plenty of sun and often the threat of an afternoon storm. The pale, desiccated landscape of winter is being reborn – irrigation from stream-fed ditches has encouraged several inches of fresh grass in the meadows; willow bushes sag under the weight of swelling and bursting buds; stark, white aspens are crowned in verdant greens; garrulous red-winged blackbirds posture and quarrel.

Willow Buds

Tarryall Creek has been ice free for six weeks. Flows have increased steadily and are expected to “blow out” in the next week or so as warmer temperatures accelerate snowmelt on the surrounding peaks. Peak run-off will typically last two or three weeks, defined for me as nothing more scientific than “too high to comfortably fish.

Tarryall Creek

Today the river is high, but fishable. The trout now avoid the fast, main channel – the same channel which will be their haven for oxygenated water in late summer. Larger, wiser trout, as always, hold in the prime positions; slower pockets behind rock or log deflections, or tight up against the banks. Insects are hatching – caddis and small olives – but they are occasional rather than prolific. Trout might rise to a dry fly, but there is no evidence of surface feeding. My “fly” of choice today is a streamer – imitations of small fish or perhaps large stoneflies. Mine are small and relatively subdued, black and greens. Not for me the fluorescent monsters, six or eight inches long, fished on big, western rivers. There, large trout don’t attain their size on a steady diet of minute insects.

Pair Of Streamers

Wet Streamer

I may resort to a streamer to test the deepest holes later in the summer, but I only fish them with any regularity during this spring window. At the same flow on the waning side of run-off, both myself and the trout will be keen to sample a dry fly.

Lacking the delicacy of dry flies or small nymphs, streamers share more with a spinning lure or plug. Requiring none of the grace of the classic fly-line cast, they can instead be flicked to the target. In today’s heavy flows, casts are necessarily short – any line catching the faster water will instantly drag the streamer with it.

After probing the near bank, I wade cautiously to the edge of the fast channel, fishing the far bank and pockets little beyond the rod tip. At such close range, summer trout would be spooked and scattered immediately, but now the fast water is my friend and provides the necessary camouflage.

Hooked Fish

My streamers carry only a bead-head for weight. They take several seconds to reach bottom in the slower water, but this is heavy enough that I dispense with any bite indicator. Strikes are varied, which adds to the challenge of this style of fishing. I must be alert to fish hitting the streamer instantly – no subtly or doubt about this. Other times, the fly can be seen sinking, with the pale flash of a rolling trout signalling the strike. When the fly sinks out of sight, if the leader remains fairly tight, bites are felt or signalled by a checking of the fly line, seven or eight feet above the fly.

Most intriguing though is when the fly and leader curl in the eddies of the stream, breaking direct contact with the rod and fly line. Now, a periodic lift, every few seconds, reestablishes contact with the fly, and will sometimes be rewarded with a resistance signalling a fish – the briefest shake differentiating this from the stream bed or debris. Most of these fish don’t come to hand to be unhooked, the fly being held rather than hooked in the mouth. I could strike more aggressively to set the hook, but that momentary contact is all the satisfaction I need. A little mystery is its own reward.

Released Fish

I am rarely successful when dead drifting a streamer in the current, even out of the fastest water. Perhaps this is not a natural motion for a flailing bait fish. Strikes will occur as the fly swings across the current, either the natural tightening of the line or my stripping in the fly line or raising the rod tip. As the fly becomes stationary, held by a tight line immediately below me, small fish will often strike in the shallow riffles. Entertaining, but not a great endorsement for angling prowess or the importance of skillful presentation! Also, verification of the innate, cannibalistic instinct of brown trout.

Much of the appeal of fishing a familiar water across the seasons is learning and enjoying how the aquatic environment changes and the trout adapt with it. Fishable spots today were relatively few, and the opposite of what I will hopefully find three months from now in low summer flows. Streamers will never be my favourite style of fishing, yet today it was the logical choice – an entertaining challenge, and well rewarded. Eight or ten fish unhooked in less than two hours along nearly half a mile of stream. All browns; no monsters, but several of 12-13 inches which is very respectable for this modest stream. All the more gratifying as the fishing will likely be on hold for the next few weeks.UPDATE. Indeed, no fishing the following week, but the valley held other surprises.

Moose Feeding 

Moose Wading

Writing & Images Paul Adams – Colorado May 2023