Report of the Memorial Weekend Dream Stream Trip
By David Morse
Six TU members made it to the South Park area on Memorial Day weekend. We fished at the Tomahawk access on the Middle Fork of the South Platte, the “Dream Stream” between Spinney and Eleven Mile Reservoirs, and the Eleven Mile Canyon below Eleven Mile Reservoir. Bruce Rosenthal graciously put us up at his cabin located at 11,000 feet elevation, west of Hoosier Pass, above Alma. Dennis Cook organized the trip, and, in addition to Bruce, was joined by Paul Wehr, Ben Zomer, Gil Coleman and me.
Tomahawk proved to have high roily water that was off-color from the Spring runoff. No fish were caught. Ben assured us that at the right time of year, this area holds good fish that migrate out of Spinney in the Spring and Fall. We fished at a small reservoir above Alma after dinner. Picky fish, here, dimpled on the lake but refused most of our offerings. The outlet was more productive on midge nymphs, especially for Ben.
The next day we headed to the Dream Stream, which lived up to its reputation as a technical fishing location. Water flows were very low at about 45 cfs and the water was very clear, which put fish on high alert. This minimal release was created as most of the upstream flow was retained at Spinney Reservoir.
At dinner, Bruce entertained us with a story, we called “Trout at the Sand Bar, a tale from a Trout's Viewpoint”. It was so funny we almost split a gut. Bruce recreated the ad lib story as follows, but the enjoyment was more in the live telling of the tale.
Have you ever wondered what a Trout thinks about after a hard day of “Fishing”?? Trout were hanging out at the Sand Bar swapping fish tales: “What a great day I had. Spotted this fisherman on the bank; had to go 250 pounds or more. I saw his fly and bumped it a couple of times. He pulled so hard that he yanked the fly completely out of the water. I jumped out of the water to watch the fisherman flailing his fly rod as if he was trying to lasso a steer. The fly somehow landed, again, several yards from me. I grabbed the fly: GAME ON!!
“I took off upriver, with the fisherman in hot pursuit, ducking under fly rods and tripping over dogs, stepping on toddlers. I jumped to hear him yell “I got ”em, I got ’em.” I just love to hear an Orvis fly Reel sing. Once I knew I had him well into his backing I ducked under some logs, while I let him rest. As he tried to reel me in, I headed out to fast water. I swam like a torpedo down stream, with the fisherman reeling in slack as fast as I stripped it off.
“As he chased me down stream, I jumped again and thought that this guy was going to have a heart attack; so I decided to break him off. He was pulling so hard that I saw him fall backward on his @$$. I would have laughed, but then I’d get water up my nose. It’s so much fun to “hook up” with humans; I only wish I could keep one.
“At least I got to keep his fly.”