Read Part I first

We head a little lower from our morning beat. The river looks about the same, but there are a few more riffles than the upper stretch. The first riffle doesn’t produce. The clouds have toyed with us all morning and a thick band of gray scuds over the peaks to the west. The low rumble from the distance rolls closer. A few sparks jump from the peaks. I pull on my light rain jacket I’ve tied around my waist.

We move upriver to a small island that splits the river in two channels. I take the far channel. The rain pelts the water, almost looking like hail as the drops kick up the river in white splashes. I throw a few casts upriver. There is some disturbance near my fly on the far side of the seam. The rain picks up briefly, then suddenly slows. I cast my dark green hopper and have a fantastic strike. I bring a beautiful 17″ Yellowstone cutthroat to hand.

I get another nice strike on the near side of the seam, but the fish throws the fly a couple of seconds after the take. Maybe the omen was right, just a bit delayed in reaching fruition.

The rain has completely stopped and moved on to the east.

I meet up with Danny and John at the next fishable stretch, a nice deep channel with plenty of river weeds for cover. I tell John what I’m fishing with and give him a tan hopper since I’m out of green. The pattern is identical except the color. I pass them and wait at the next hole for Danny to fish it. It’s a nice stretch with a good riffle at the head. Danny fishes it, and so does John. After a dozen or so casts, I ask if I can throw in my hopper. On the third cast I reel in a 13″ rainbow.

Apparently the green hopper is the ticket. Danny is fishing a hopper pattern too, but I believe he says his is yellow.

Above the riffle is another slow, deep stretch. A small rock pokes above the water in the middle. I see a few fish hanging on my side of the rock, about 20″ deep. I cast upriver of the rock and catch a nice 14 incher, then a small 9″. I see a bigger fish next to the rock rise to my fly, but he refuses it. I tie on a #20 Copper John and catch a 14″ cutt.

We move to a large hole upriver. I feel bad as I continue to catch some nice fish and John and Danny go fishless. I land a rainbow and while in my hand, he jerks free, snaps my line and takes off with the hopper. I’m afraid I’ll be reduced to fishless status now too. I tie on a parachute Adams. Danny and John move up past the big hole and I’m able to land a couple more with the Adams. I finally move upriver too.

There is a nice deep channel here. John has a few fish rising near him, but he can’t get them to take. I see a couple of rises and have three very nice fish on and off. I see several fish down low and switch to my Copper John. I get one take-then-spit. I tie on a sculpin pattern and dredge the bottom up and down a 50′ section of water with no luck. Danny has just missed a nice fish on a stonefly nymph pattern, with the fish leaving him flyless.

The wind squalls through and we continue to fish the whitecaps. John has gone on just the other side of a stone outcropping, but remains fishless. Although none of us land a fish in an hour of fishing the stretch, it’s a great section of water and I’ll certainly be back.

Pool I caught the rainbow in.

We move back downriver to the big hole again. Fish are rising sporadically. Danny gets into some and lands them. I try the Sprout Midge pattern and take one and miss one. I switch to an Adams and take a couple more.

John and Danny fishing the big hole below a rainbow.

I throw the Adams back on and land a nice thick 18″ cutthroat.

The day is waning rapidly and we have a two hour drive ahead of us. We call it a day.

I feel bad for Danny and John—when I take someone to fish a place they’ve never fished, I want them to have success. For me, the eagle was an auspicious omen indeed.

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