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Fine-spotted & Dew Boys
The fellow asked permission to access the creek through our campsite as we were setting up.
We chatted. “I don’t tell anyone about Crystal Creek,” he pointedly stated.
“And where are you from?” I asked.
“Michigan.”
He climbed down the steep cut bank to the river and started fly fishing upstream. His friend, in a jeep, had dropped him off and then drove up to the trailhead.
“We ought to take our time,” I mentioned to the Lady, busy with her fussing inside the camper. “And allow the fish to settle after he moves through.”
A short time later a gentleman drove his older GMC 4x4 pickup down into our campsite. He stopped beside me. I was geared up and holding my fly rod.
“You can’t camp here.” he said with a smile.
“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?” I smiled back and chuckled. “And where are you from? I asked.
“Oh, I live over in Wilson. I like Crystal Creek and just drove over for the afternoon to see how busy it was and maybe fish. Can I park my truck in that spot there?” He nodded his head in the direction.
“Of course.”
He parked and climbed out of his truck. “This is a great spot,” he said. “I’ve camped here with my daughter.”
“And how’s the fishing?” I asked.
He looked me over. “You will have a good time,”
We chatted further as the Lady put her gear together. “I’m the net girl!” she told him with her smile.
We all had noticed the three loud men with fly rods that had entered the creek about three hundred yards down and were moving up.
“You two better get down in the water and ahead of those guys,” he said and ended our chat. “I’m going home.”
We climbed down to Crystal Creek.
My fly fishing guide went to work studying structure, current, deeper water, cut banks, insect activity, and rises. At this spot a trout came up three times to look at the small hopper pattern but did not take it.
We kept an eye on the loud men fast approaching. We both agreed we’d not allow them to push us. As I expected, they climbed out at our campsite and walked the road up to the trailhead. Now it was nice to relax and take our time on the water. We came to an absolutely beautiful run. I methodically worked each section, slowly moving up. There was a deep center part to the pool. I saw the trout rise, rush over, and take the fly.
“Fish on!” the Lady said as the net girl moved beside me.
“Look at that big one chasing it!” she noted with excitement. “Is that a bull trout?”
“It’s not green gray. It’s colored more like a cutt. I think it’s a cutthroat.”
The ten inch, but hefty, trout raced back and forth across the run before sliding into the Lady’s net.
“Here we go,” I said to the Lady. “Our first Snake River Fine-spotted on Crystal.
Crystal Creek is a tributary to the Gros Ventre River that flows into the Snake River at the south end of Grand Teton National Park. It still has a population of its native trout - the Snake River Fine-spotted Cutthroat.
Next came a real surprise. After catching the trout, and after floating flies so many times down this run, I did not think there was a chance of any further action. I took a minute to dry the fly and inspect the tippet. I cast to the head of the deep run and held the rod high as the fly drifted without drag down the center seam. The trout slowly rose and sucked the fly from the surface right beside me. It was on and I felt its weight immediately.
“I expect this will be “the trout” of our time on Crystal! Step below me with the net.”
With its bright throat slash, rosy gill plates, golden sides, and speckled with fine spots, this was a spectacular example of this cutthroat subspecies in its home waters. We were thrilled! Unharmed, we quickly and carefully released it and watched in awe as it slid back into its watery fold.
We had a brief afternoon rain squall move through - this was the mountains of Wyoming after all - but it cleared as we returned to camp.
In the evening we walked up to the trailhead. There were only about four vehicles parked. But above, at a few dispersed camping sites, there was a large encampment with 10 to 12 men. This place was busy and, obviously, not a secret. But we were alone and it was peaceful at our camp. We thoroughly enjoyed the last evening color.
In the morning we returned to the trailhead and hiked the trail a couple of miles into the Gros Ventre Wilderness.
The trail dropped back down to Crystal Creek. Two men were fishing below the intersection. We moved upstream to put some distance between us. We found beautiful water.
But we had little success here. There were no insects on the water or any fish activity. The Lady was puzzled. “Why is it so slow?” the Lady asked.
“I don’t know if it makes a difference, but I expect this section gets hit pretty hard by all the people up here,” I offered my answer.
The Lady, with her ever present see mores, watched the trail we’d hiked.
“Look at them,” she announced. “Ten people are hiking in with fly rods. Let’s move upstream and get away. There are so many people here. I don’t like this.”
We moved upstream. We ran into two fellows fishing a large beaver pond. We gave them a wide berth. I don’t believe they ever saw us. We eventually came to a nice run with no one else in sight.
There was a large trout at the top of the run occasionally coming up and taking something off the surface with loud splashy plops. I was casting straight upstream and getting nice drifts without drag as I retrieved line. No interest.
“We are going to catch this trout,” I announced as I sat beside her on a log on the gravel bar. “It's time to try another fly.” The Lady steadied my left hand so I could get the tippet through the hook eye.
We spent some time here. Many careful casts and drifts yielded no results. We tried several fly patterns. Two gentlemen came from upstream and stopped to watch. The still rising trout added to the show. We chatted with them and they moved on downstream. They were fishing streamers, so I switched too. Still no luck. Back to a dry. And then I learned something. I moved in closer and placed the fly up and across. I high lined the fly with my rod high as it floated with the current, keeping all the line off the water. Repeatedly large trout appeared from the depths and followed the fly, the most action I’d seen all day. These trout are fly line and leader shy, well-educated from so much pressure. I expect I’d flogged the water here enough to eliminate a chance of a taking a trout. But this was a great lesson, and I passed it on to the Lady to further hone her guide skills. We decided to take a reconnaissance hike further upstream to study the creek. We found excellent water. We’d get an early start the next morning, get up into this new territory, and put our lessons into action.
It did not happen.
Checking the weather forecast that evening, a big change was coming with several days of storm and rain. The road in was heavily rutted. We did not want to be here when wet. The Lady did not want to sit in the camper in the rain. Where could we hole up more out of the weather? Dubois, Wyoming.
The big camp and others up at the trailhead were, it appeared, also reacting to the forecast. A line of vehicles drove out as we broke camp in the morning. When we reached the harder surfaced Gros Ventre River Road, we took the time to explore upriver before heading to Dubois. We found places to disperse camp and access the Gros Ventre for possible returns to fly fish up here. It’s fun to poke around and learn an area.
On our way to pavement, we stopped at Pronghorn Flat. Smoke obscured the view of the Tetons.
We enjoyed the area at the summit - Togwotee Pass - and found it quite beautiful.
These signs carried a very timely message.
A note: years ago, we learned that the locals chafe at outsiders pronouncing the name of their town like the French. “It’s american, by god!” It's Dew Boys.
We found the Black Bear Inn where we’d reserved - a phone call via that damn StarStink - a room for three nights.
The owner lives up to all the reviews online. The black bear theme runs rampant, over the top, but fits the place.
The Lady’s phone chimed as we started out on a walk downtown - rain gear on now. It was a receipt for our payment. We turned into the office.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “There’s problem with our bill. You did not charge us enough.”
The woman studied the invoice and saw her error. She’d charged us only for two nights.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have caught this until the end of the month. I cannot believe you came in to correct this.”
“Of course we did. We pay our way.” The Lady told her.
“Well, I sure thank you.”
Dew Boys is an interesting town.
It took us awhile to figure out what this place was.
A laundromat.
For us, the highlight of the town was the National Bighorn Sheep Center.
We were the only visitors when we stopped late in the afternoon. Anna, the Executive Director, was on duty. Energetic and knowledgeable, she was a joy to chat with. On a wall in the display room was reproductions of petroglyphs. It caught our attention and we asked Anna about it and asked about petroglyphs in the area. She happily provided us with information.
Dodging rain showers the next day; we visited the sites. There were clues.
Most of the petroglyphs were on large boulders on steep terrain.
The ‘glyphs appeared to represent spirit beings of some sort. The designs were quite intriguing.
We were curious if this represented spirits that inhabited the mountains or were placed as warnings to scare other tribes away.
There were animal figures.
We enjoyed our scrambles up and down the hillsides searching.
Incredible petroglyphs in the middle of our trip to Wyoming, this was a treat.
Note: Anna designed a t-shirt with several of these petroglyphs on the front. It is for sale at the Center.
It was raining hard when we left the area. A speed goat buck would not cooperate and look toward us for a better portrait.
It was sure nice to have a comfortable dry room to return to each day as we explored the area and checked out access to our next spot for fly fishing. Although it was an interesting small town, we were more than ready to leave civilization behind. The question was, would we be able to leave all the people behind? And how about the rain?
Our adventure continues in the upcoming Part Three.
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