---

Literary accounts of fishouts in the recent past,
to make you sorry you didn't go.

Roostercomb Ranch - April 2007
by Cecilia Stipes

This trip had been cancelled initially due to the threat of poor pond conditions and low water levels, but after some reconsidering, it was decided this fishout was "do-able" with fewer fishers. So, a few hopeful and very eager members made the trek back to the beautiful Roostercomb Ranch near the Henry Coe State Park. It marked the 6th annual trip onto this historic land of early Native Americans, Joaquin Murietta's legend, and ranching cowboys. Seven of nine ponds that were fished produced satisfactory results of bass and blue gill with some weighing up to five pounds. Along on this trip were: Tom and Sonia Deetz, Sharon and Kent Hull, Elaine Cook and Lisa, Marla Lytle, Sophia Zadubera, Tom Bradley, Doug Severin, Dick and Cecilia Stipes.
Highlights to this trip: Marla's truck sustained a flat tire while driving in to the ranch; Sharon, Sonia, and Cecilia bird-watched and identified nearly 60 species; Tom Bradley developed an effective fishing method with a "dangle and jiggle" clouser; Lisa (Elaine's granddaughter and a newbie to fishing) caught eighteen fish in one day; Sophia caught countless fish on her bead-head black woolly bugger until it was unrecognizable; we vividly awoke on our first morning to a chorus of displaying and gobbling tom turkeys, quail, and wild pigs directly in front of the ranch house which reminded us we were not in Santa Cruz. Our host, Scott Wilkinson, with Dane, Steve, and Brian (our Margarita man!), provided help during our trip.

I caravanned with Joe Bigas and Al Nocella up to the reservoir. We met Dave Jensen and Richard Kline in the parking area. Troy Meyers had arrived the night before and was camped out at one of the primitive sites at the far end of the reservoir. After humping all our gear to the put-in area next to the spillway, we were greeted with fish rising to the surface. An omen of things to come! The action at Los Padres in recent years has all been sub-surface, requiring sink tips, woolly buggers, streamer and nymphs. Just out of habit I had remembered to bring a floating line and some dry flies. A party of Monterey club members had just launched their float tubes/pontoons and were on fish immediately using black woolly buggers. The excitement was starting.
The sky still held some hazy clouds keeping the sun off the water allowing for better fishing conditions. I had a few grabs almost as soon as I hit the water. Joe and Al were not getting the Los Padres love. I landed a few steelhead smolt in the 10" range as I was kicking my way down toward the far end. I noticed that the Monterey crew had come back toward the middle of the water and were fishing dries toward a swampy section and catching fish.
Just about that time I noticed my left tube was losing air and headed back in. An accommodating angler allowed me to use his foot pump and I was quickly on my way back out. Using my down time ashore I switched over to a floating line and put on a black ant pattern. There was a huge hatch of flying termites along with the occasional stone fly. There was maybe one stone fly to every 36 flying termites. Because of the large amount of termites already on the water, my float tube, and my face, I decided to put on a size 12 attractor.
Wham, that worked! I landed a 12" steely almost immediately. I started to kick back down to the other end making it to the bottle neck area when my right tube started losing air. This was serious. Where was Troy Meyers and his kayak tow service when you needed him? So there I was with my listing float tube (recently won at the annual fund raiser) slowly kicking with one leg, my left arm wrapped around the left tube and my right arm holding my rod and still catching fish, working my way back to the dam praying that I would make land before the entire tube went flat.
What a "revoltin development" this was! Joe and Al were already off the water and on their way home. Richard Kline last seen had figured out the hatch and was catching fish at the bend. Dave Jensen had kindly shadowed me back and said he was done as well. I vaguely remember Troy Meyers saying that he hadn't done much catching but concentrated instead on his kayak paddling.
Just wait till next year.

Spring weather in the northeast corner of Utah is changeable, but we've never experienced extremes like the ones we were dealt this time. No matter whether you travel by train, by plane, or drive the entire distance, you have to cover the last leg of the trip by car, so everyone was faced with the daunting task of negotiating snow-packed roads, winding up into the mountains, to reach our final destination of Dutch John.

Some of us were lucky to have 4WD vehicles, but Kathy and Dave Powers and Richard Kline, and Elaine Cook, Tom Pelikan, and Doug Severin were in rental cars, and were playing cell phone tag with John and myself, to check on how each other were faring. Elaine insisted on driving the car she shared with Doug and Tom, and at one point, called us to tell us they had given up and checked into a motel in Lyman, waiting for conditions to clear. We also were concerned about Mary Breckenridge, who was driving solo in her big diesel truck. Harry Schooenbaert and Ray Dow arrived in their camping vehicles and set up in the lodge parking lot.
Eventually, everybody made it to Trout Creek Flies Lodge in Dutch John, Utah, but not without much anxiety and white knuckles. Kelly and Dave Lehrian called to let us know they had arrived safely and were checked in at Flaming Gorge Lodge. The entire landscape was unrecognizable, covered in over a foot of new-fallen snow.
Sunday morning, everyone dressed warmly in layers of fleece and raingear, and ventured out to the river. Fishing was slow, but in the afternoon, a blue wing olive hatch came off, and there was some surface action. Elaine broke the tip of her rod, but continued to fish and even caught eight fish on her abbreviated equipment. That's dedication!
On Monday, temperatures got up into the 70's, and the snow rapidly began melting. Once again, the really productive fishing happened in the afternoon, and it was rough to fish the bank. The dam releases hadn't yet begun, so the water was skinny and the fish were very wary.

The rest of the week continued to be warm, relatively windless, and the drift trips with the guides were the most fun, more productive, and full of surface action on cicadas and foam ants. Being able to fish the deeper pockets from the drift boats had a great advantage over bank fishing this year. Dave Lehrian braved the rapids in a pontoon boat. We talked Harry into doing a drift trip, and he had a blast. He had been rather subdued and quiet until then, but at dinner that evening, he was uncharacteristically ebullient and talkative. I remarked, "who are you and what have you done with Harry?"
Over all, I think everyone who came on this fishout got something positive out of it, good fishing, helpful friends, the superb hospitality of Denny and Grace Breer, and the spiritual uplift this beautiful piece of our land affords those who stop to just gaze at it.

*Note: A large plot of land, a meadow directly across the river from Little Hole, went up for auction, and it was feared that a developer would buy it and put up a big resort. Officials from Q-West Gas, Department of Fish and Game of Utah, and the Nature Conservancy (one of the recipients of our Conservation dollars) toured the river and the property to be auctioned, and pooled their resources to purchase the land, thus preventing development of it forever.

Back to Table of Contents