My return to the Portneuf River (my first encounter is chronicled here) made a big splash on the locals. Actually, I think my splash missed Kevin, but it made a pretty big impact on him—he laughed his butt off for at least five minutes!

Coach Kevin C (of Coach’s Caribou County Fly Fishing Journal [new window]) was kind enough to meet with me on the Portneuf for a day of fishing there and on a little cutthroat creek, Toponce Creek. He told me it takes him 1 1/2 hours to drive from his house to Logan, and then another 7 minutes to the Portneuf. I was planning on riding the motorcycle, but looking at the forecast and the clouds convinced me I should drive the truck instead. I ran into Logan to pick up a 6 pack of DP, then took off. It was 6:30 when I left the store. I was supposed to meet Kevin at 7:30. You do the math.

I arrived at the Portneuf parking lot at 7:55. Kevin was patiently (you looked patient Kevin, way to pull it off) rigging up his homemade leader-out-of-tippet job. We introduced ourselves (I must say, fishing with someone you’ve never met before is always a crapshoot—you never know what to expect in the other angler. I found Kevin to be a great fishing companion and person—thanks Kevin!), then hit the river.Being with somebody who knows the river is a bonus, especially a river like the Portneuf, where, as Kevin says, "90% of the fish are in 10% of the water." Luckily he knows the 10% well enough to get us to the fish right off the bat.

As we were ready to enter the water, we saw a terrific host of mayflies dancing in the air along the bank of the river. They looked like tricos, although they were maybe slightly too big (somewhere near 10mm). Whatever they were, there were a lot and I took it as a good omen, but a bit daunting because I haven’t fished mayflies this year, and my mayfly box was very inadequate. There were also a few caddis bouncing around, which made me feel a bit better. I tied on a caddisfly.

On entering the water we could see quite a few rising fish. Lots of smaller ones and several nice noses as well. Kevin was into the fish pretty quick and brought a few nice cutthroats in. I had several misses from small fish. I tried a couple of different patterns. Kevin was having success using a #14 parachute adams. I didn’t have any adams (who in the heck doesn’t carry adams in their mayfly box—what an idiot!), but I did have a large emerging mayfly I tied up a while ago. I tossed that on and had a couple of refusals, which was encouraging that they were at least looking at it.

As Kevin continued to clean-up the near bank (I wasn’t keeping track, but he had released a handful of fish) with his adams, I slowly made my way to two nicely-sized fish feeding close to the far bank. There were a few smaller fish feeding directly in front of me, mid-river, that I fished to on my way over.

My first cast to the smaller fish in front of me produced. I brought in an 11" Yellowstone cutthroat. I was ready to try for the larger fish. I tossed my fly ahead of the closest fish several times and finally had him nip at it, but couldn’t get him to take in several casts. I decided to clip the emerger trailing shuck off my fly and try that.

On the second cast the fish took. It was a beautiful 15" cutt. Unfortunately (or fortunately, considering my later spill) I forgot my camera and couldn’t take a picture. I released him and cast for the next fish. On the fourth cast the fish made his move, rising to my fly just as he had the naturals. This fly had a bit of a sting to it that sent the fish to the bottom among the weeds. I finally brought him in. Measured against my rod he was at least 18 1/2" of Yellowstone cutthroat.

The rises started to peter out, but there were enough to keep us fishing the next stretch of water and bringing in a few and missing a couple of nice ones. We started to get into a couple of rainbows mixed with the cutts, and Kevin caught a cuttbow. I missed a larger (16"+) fish in the hole where I caught my nice cutt on the last trip and two other good sized fish..

We rounded the bend and decided to head back up to the bridge and look for a place to fish higher up. Looking back on it, there was a good reason I forgot my camera in the truck. As I was making my way to the shore, my foot caught a submerged rock covered in weeds. My foot slid down it and my shin caught the top edge, sending me down on my left side in about 14" of water. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but the place I usually tuck my camera inside my waders (just above my left hip), is the place that took a good soaking when I went down.

We hopped out of the water at that point and headed back toward the bridge. I was on the far side of the river and Kevin on the near. There were no risers on my side and I was putzing about changing flies. I saw a nice rise on Kevin’s side in a little channel of weeds right to his left. He tossed the fly in a couple of times but had a hard time with the drift because the line couldn’t set right in the channel easily. He tossed his fly outside of the weed beds closer to the main current and had a nice strike. It looked like a good splash. He tried a few more times and had a monster strike with a big nose in the air, then a parting of the ways with his fly (I think he was using 4x tippet). A great fish to haunt his dreams.

We hopped in the truck and headed upriver to try and find some access to a place he wanted to fish, but no luck. So we headed downriver to an access point. There were several riffles and hole he wanted to try. The fish had sttopped rising, but he thought we could catch a few. He headed to a little channel the current was strong in on the far bank and proceeded to pull out three nice rainbows in a row.

One of Kevin’s triplets.

I finally accepted an adams from kevin, but the remainder of that riffles was not producing.

The section upriver was split in two channels. I took the far channel and Kevin took the near. I fished the section hard because it looked great, but nothing doing. Kevin had the same luck on his side.

The next hole was a nice deep section with a good current. Things were pretty slow, so Kevin put on a nymph. I told him I would have to release him and he would have to find his own ride back to his vehicle. He then proceeded to pull three fish out of that hole with his pheasant tail. I seemed to be a bit slow, because by the time I threw on a nymph (it was peer pressure all the way, and I succumbed, hook line and sinker), they were finished in that hole. So up to the final stretch we headed. It was a large, slow hole. I fished several things and finally pulled in a 13" rainbow with a streamer (it’s a bit hazy now, but I’m sure there was subliminal peer pressure here too), but that was it—the fish were done.

We headed into Lava Hot Springs and picked up lunch, then we were off to Toponce Creek. (Pronounced Toe-pawn-ce.) Map here [new window]—select the "Terrain" button then scroll to your left. We headed to the South Fork.

Toponce Creek is toward the clouds.

I thought bringing my rain jacket would be a good idea, but Kevin harassed me about it. He was planning on wet wading and was sliding into his wading shoes when he was stung, twice, on the back of the leg. He quickly ditched the wading shoes and tossed on the waders instead, but skipped the rain jacket part.

Bee Sting Waders.

The South Fork of Toponce Creek is a brushy little bugger.

But there were some nice little cutts that came to the fly.

We fished a good distance up the creek, in the rain (but it was OK because I had my rain jacket, and Kevin is a football coach, so this was nothing compared to some of the stuff he’s had to stand in).

This little hole produced two cutts, one for each of us.

We finally got to some extensive beaver ponding that we just didn’t want to mess with. I navigated through the thick willows on the near side and Kevin made his way out the far side (much better choice—fewer bushes and he had a trail to walk on once he was out—note to self: always follow the locals on their home water).

We headed to the main stem of the Toponce (the canyon area that first shows up on the map above). This is some great looking, fishy, water. A perfect cutthroat habitat if I ever saw one.

Nothing doing, hole after hole we had a hard time bringing anything in. We landed a few, but nothing like what Kevin is used to doing there.

It was getting a bit late. Time for Kevin to head home and I wanted to make it back before it was too dark. We headed back to my truck which we left at the Portneuf parking area. I planned on walking back to the hole with the big fish that got away (by the way, that’s the same hole I lost Dan’s big bow in last time we were here). I thought an evening hatch might be coming off. Kevin wasn’t too interested in trying his luck, but I taunted peer-pressured encouraged him enough that he decided to check it out, but he wasn’t going to put his waders back on.

We stopped at the bridge and looked down. I clipped my fly and was tying on the adams Kevin gave me earlier. His was already on and he was casting to the spot he hooked into the big one earlier. We heard a "blooop," of a rising fish. I said something like, "Oh, there’s a little one rising."

Kevin heard it too and cast to it.

Right click on the movie and choose play.

Since I was in my waders and Kevin wasn’t, I eased into the water and wanted to be in a position to help, but he was able to get him landed without help.

21"+ of wild rainbow.

I call this the "Peer Pressure Rainbow." Nice fish Kevin!

Kevin released the fish and then headed home. I stuck around casting, but there were no risers. The sky was darkening up to the west again, and I figured it was time to head out too.

Evening Storm Clouds.

I moved on down the road thinking about the great fish we caught, the ones we didn’t and the ones waiting for next time. The rain came pelting down and I was glad I’d left the motorcycle home. In the rearview mirror was this sunset over the Portneuf:

Until next time.

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