Salmonflies
Pteronarcys californica
The giant Salmonflies of the Western mountains are legendary for their proclivity to elicit consistent dry-fly action and ferocious strikes.
Featured on the forum
This species was fairly abundant in a February sample of the upper Yakima.
Troutnut is a project started in 2003 by salmonid ecologist Jason "Troutnut" Neuswanger to help anglers and
fly tyers unabashedly embrace the entomological side of the sport. Learn more about Troutnut or
support the project for an enhanced experience here.
By Troutnut on May 29th, 2020
Late May is an odd time to hunt for rainbow trout along Alaska's road system. The adult salmon aren't in yet, most of the smolts aren't really running yet either, and the rainbows are in limbo between their mysterious headwater spawning locations and the places they enjoy salmon smolt and egg buffets later in the summer.
Last year, when the rivers were atypically low due to a light snowpack, I fished three miles of a favorite creek and moved only three rainbows, all of monstrous size. This year, greater snowmelt had the creek swollen beyond long-distance wadeability, so a friend and I explored some absurdly off-the-beaten-path access points, the kind where it takes an hour to reach a piece of water in which nobody else has set foot for years.
On this new water, I caught one 19" female and briefly saw a nice male rocketing downstream post-spawn. Mostly, though, the scenic new reaches were a bust from a catching standpoint. At the end of the day, I bashed through half a mile of alders and devil's club (R.I.P. my waders, 2019-2020) to reach a known hotspot and caught six fish, mostly 18-21", before a storm rolled in and chased me back to the car.
Last year, when the rivers were atypically low due to a light snowpack, I fished three miles of a favorite creek and moved only three rainbows, all of monstrous size. This year, greater snowmelt had the creek swollen beyond long-distance wadeability, so a friend and I explored some absurdly off-the-beaten-path access points, the kind where it takes an hour to reach a piece of water in which nobody else has set foot for years.
On this new water, I caught one 19" female and briefly saw a nice male rocketing downstream post-spawn. Mostly, though, the scenic new reaches were a bust from a catching standpoint. At the end of the day, I bashed through half a mile of alders and devil's club (R.I.P. my waders, 2019-2020) to reach a known hotspot and caught six fish, mostly 18-21", before a storm rolled in and chased me back to the car.
Photos by Troutnut from Byers Creek in Alaska
Comments / replies
Martinlf on Jun 9, 2020June 9th, 2020, 5:05 am EDT
Beautiful water.
"He spread them a yard and a half. 'And every one that got away is this big.'"
--Fred Chappell
--Fred Chappell
Partsman on Jun 9, 2020June 9th, 2020, 9:07 am EDT
Awesome country, enjoy that hiking while your legs are still young!
Mike.
Mike.
Martinlf on Jun 11, 2020June 11th, 2020, 9:10 am EDT
Amen.
"He spread them a yard and a half. 'And every one that got away is this big.'"
--Fred Chappell
--Fred Chappell
Quick Reply
Related Discussions
Topic
Replies
Last Reply
7
Jun 10, 2009
by Troutnut
by Troutnut
23
Apr 12, 2012
by Entoman
by Entoman
11
Dec 24, 2011
by Troutnut
by Troutnut
12
Nov 2, 2015
by Troutnut
by Troutnut