After securing our licenses, we drove through the foothills toward the canyon. The road through the foothills was dotted with older homes and a few newer ones. The small community would be a nice place to live--quiet, with little traffic. We guessed that most of the residents were farmers and ranchers. Some of the homes might be summer homes owned by those who want a semi-secluded get-a-way--a place where they could come to relax and maybe do some hunting and fishing. Some homes might have been inherited by children or grandchildren of the original residents.
It wasn't long before we were on the dirt road that paralleled the river. We glanced at the water with excitement. It looked so inviting. We found a turnout and hurriedly put on our waders and then rigged up our rods. As we walked down river looking for a good place to enter the water, we commented on how it seemed so perfect. The only other thing that would add to our already giddy demeanor would be for the trout to cooperate. We found a small clearing and walked through fall leaves and dry grasses. Upon entering the water I could sense through my waders that it was cold; just the kind of water that cutthroat trout like to live in. It was so clear. The bottom rocks matched the autumn leaves. My favorite color is yellow. I see it in the autumn aspen leaves and in the water-covered rocks of the creeks, streams, and rivers I fish. I also see it in the trout I catch. Just a tinge in cutthroat trout but more pronounced in the cutthroat that hide in shaded water and dark undercut banks. It is also pronounced on the sides and bellies of stream bred brown trout; rich and buttery during the Fall.
We started the day with hopper patterns. These were tied with tan heat shrink air-filled bodies, light elk hair wings, tan foam heads and brown rubber legs. We always add just a little floatant in the wing to keep them buoyant. After a few trout we seldom redress the wing and let the fly sit down in the surface a little.