Seven Savvy Small Stream Fishing Tips

October 2024

INTRODUCTION:

As my fishing friends and readers know, I am a small stream aficionado and devotee.  Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against big waters like the Arkansas River near my cabin outside Salida, Colorado, despite the float boat hatch in summers that is maddening for those of us who prefer to wade rather than row.   I just prefer the solitude and wild nature of the small streams I like to search out, not to mention eager fish.  Okay, Okay…being shallower and smaller, I must admit they are also easier for a shambling septuagenarian like me to navigate. 

But while small streams can be easier to navigate and their denizens usually cooperative, they come with their own special challenges—tight casting quarters, plentiful snags, and shallow and clear water with spooky fish just to mention a few.  Here are some tips that will help ensure successful outings and hopefully help build the constituencies to protect these often lesser known, but precious waters.

Tip #1:  Before plunging into the water, take time to check out the insect life in and around the stream.

Because of their diminutive size and often remote locations with challenging environments ranging from high elevations to deep canyons, small streams often have a more limited and specialized selection of the victuals trout prefer.  That’s why while walking to the creek a smart angler will keep an eye out for terrestrials like grasshoppers and ants.  In the summer hoppers are an especially delectable and popular treat, providing a good meal for the smaller fish usually found in small streams. 

Next, instead of casting immediately in that first pool, wade out downstream and check under rocks for aquatic bugs like caddis, mayfly, and stonefly larvae and nymphs.  Then choose the fly or flies that are reasonable facsimiles. 

A good example is a recent trip to upper Grape Creek near Westcliffe, Colorado. I usually use a green- colored caddis larva dropper on Grape Creek to match the abundant green caddis larva lurking in the stream bed. But in this new section I hadn’t fished before, I found cream-colored caddis larva in abundance, not green. I dug into my fly box and was lucky to find a couple of cream-colored beadhead flies that were reasonable facimiles. I tied one on , and on the very first cast it was gulped down by a nice brookie. More soon followed. Would a green-colored larva worked? Maybe, but a little investigation paid off.

Tip #2:  Stay out of the stream if possible—avoid those bad vibrations.

Unlike larger rivers where the angler must often plunge in and wade to reach the best pools/runs, in small streams the most inviting and productive water can often be reached with a short cast without getting your waders wet—a good strategy illustrated by a recent experience on tiny Archuleta Creek in southern Colorado.  I was hiking on a ridge above the stream, which has always been challenging but productive, planning to cut down to the water in a little gully ahead.  But another old guy had beaten me to the punch, so before pushing on downstream a good distance, I decided to take a break and watch him fish.  I was a bit surprised to see him wading in and up the creek, then saw his water buffalo wading technique was literally sending shock waves upstream into the bend pools he was targeting.  On a good stretch I had done well on in the past, in over 15 minutes he hooked just one fish.  His sloshing around had sent out bad vibrations.  It was a reminder to think Beach Boys—sending out good vibrations to the fish with succulent flies and minimum ripples, creating some excitation instead of miniature tidal waves.    After watching the show, I proceeded downstream for a quarter mile and started fishing back up.  Thirty minutes later I hit the stretch the other senior gent had plowed through and had a ball carefully fishing the water and catching a half dozen nice brownies, one scaling 14 inches.

A recent outing on a stream in the San Luis Valley loaded with Rio Grande Cutthroats teaches the same lesson. The water was clear and extremely low, but my fishing buddy Tom Palka managed to catch (and release) three beautiful cutties from a postage-stamp sized pool by creeping carefully to a hidden spot in the grass below the pool then executing backhand casts from a sitting position. If he had stood up instead, the trout would have likely fled to the next county!

Tip #3:  Stoop to conquer…

Avoiding bad vibrations is just one advantage of staying out of the water and being careful when casting from the shoreline.  The best holding lies in small creeks are often shallower than in big rivers, and if the water is clear and you are wading standing upright either on the shoreline or in the stream it’s guaranteed the fish have a good chance of seeing you moving or will spy your shadow.  What’s the remedy? KNEEL!!  Where the stream is especially small or water very clear consider kneeling on the shoreline or in the water before casting.  Keep in mind the famous line from the Oliver Goldsmith play from the late 1700s:  “She stoops to conquer,” meaning someone who accepts behavior being viewed as beneath one’s abilities or station in life but achieves some greater purpose as a result. 

If savvy septuagenarian anglers, creaky knees and all, have learned to kneel to conquer–so can you!

But you say, what of your aching knees on those sharp, hard streambed rocks?  I am sympathetic, and that’s why I buy Dry Plus waders at Cabela’s—one of few that comes with handy dandy knee pads built in as a standard feature.  Try them, you will see the advantages plus you won’t have to spend a wad of money for these durable and reasonably priced waders.

Tip #4: Use a shorter rod and shorter leaders/droppers, especially with creeks featuring heavy streamside vegetation or overhanding trees and bushes. 

Like most anglers, the standard rod I use in rivers is a light-to-medium weight 8.5-foot wand. I also opt for it on smaller waters like Saguache Creek that don’t have a lot of streamside vegetation.  But increasingly on small streams where I will be casting in close quarters with overhanding trees or tall shoreline brush and grass and other vegetation, my choice is a short 7.5-footer.  The shorter rod allows me to backcast with less chance of hangups and avoid the cloying branches and bushes the longer rod seems to enjoy. 

Tight Quarters Call For Shorter Rod

The same is true of leaders and dropper size.  In small streams with tight quarters, there is simply not much room to false cast or even just flip the fly out with a quick flick of the rod.  Similarly, long droppers that work on big water to get to bottom where the big fish are will elicit expletives on smaller streams as your fly alights perfectly in the target pool but the dropper ends up in tall bristly grass, rose bushes, etc., etc! 

But I would be disingenuous if I did mention the tenkara lesson I received from friend Tom Palka.  We were fishing a tiny backcountry creek that was barely three feet wide in many places and lined with grass and assorted snags three feet high.  I was having the devil of a time casting even with my smaller rod without hanging up in the streamside vegetation.  But with his 10-foot tenkara rod young Mr. Palka (only 50 or so years of age) could simple reach out over streamside grass and gently his parachute his fly easily into the best holes.  As he landed three fish to my every one, this cheeky youngster schooled me. 

Same story with leaders.  Long leaders and droppers that often work best on big rivers to reach big fish in deeper holes will often end up in streamside grass and handing from snags on smaller streams.  I find that 7.5-foot 5X or 6X leaders with shorter 18-inch dropper work fine.

Tip #5:  Learn the light-touch twister tug and snap roll cast to save your fly from snags

Before I learned a little trick from my fishing buddy, Bob Wayne, my normal response to getting my fly entangled in streamside branches or grass, in addition to uttering expletives, was to give my rod  a sharp upward jerk in hopes that it would rip the fly out of the grasp of the dastardly snag.  My success rate was about 20% at best. Then one day I watched Mr. Wayne rescue fly after fly deposited in streamside vegetation by errant casts.  Instead of yanking the rod straight up as seems natural, he would aim his rod directly at snag, tighten the line taught, and then twist his wrist as he gave it a gentle tug or two straight back.  Twist and tug! His success rate in saving his flies was an astounding 50%!  It was amazing how often the embedded, seemingly doomed fly came loose. 

Master Angler Robert Wayne, Esq., Gets Ready To Execute His Patented Twist And Tug Manuever To Extricate Yet Another Errant Cast

Now I don’t claim to be as accomplished as Bob in employing this technique but have saved many flies over the past few years thanks to him. 

But what if your fly is hung up on a rock or branch in the stream?  My solution is to execute a short roll cast towards the snag powered with a strong downward snap of the wrist. Often this technique will work because the rolling line will pull the stuck fly upstream away from the snag rather than digging it in further as is the case if you give the line a pull downstream.   Don’t be surprised if you save your fly with this simple maneuver without having to wade out to retrieve the fly and spoil the pool. 

Tip #6:  For the small stream hot spots, focus on twisting creek bends, undercut banks, and shallows depending on water temperature and sunlight.  Don’t forget your stream thermometer to help figure out where the fish will be.

Several years ago, I learned an important lesson about small stream fish and water temperature.  I was fishing a small remote stream in the upper reaches of the San Luis Valley in south central Colorado in August that had always treated me well.  The creek wove sinuously through a meadow with alluring clear water deep pools at every bend.  But in the first trio of pools I drew a goose egg despite my fly and dropper floating through perfectly.  Frustrated, I waded into the bend pool up to my waist to reconnoiter up close.  I didn’t see or spook a singled fish.  A little further upstream, I again struck out and waded in to see what was up.  Again, the pool seemed empty.

Then I hit a very shallow straighter stretch above a beaver pond, only a foot or so deep.  To my amazement, I could see three brook trout finning nonchalantly in the thin water.  I crept within casting distance and knelt carefully.  My Chubby Chernobyl dry alighted five feet in front of the trio, and one darted forward and gulped in the faux grasshopper like it was his first call for breakfast.  After landing the colorful brookie I continued upstream towards the next bend pool. 

But it too was barren.  However, in the rocky shallows next to the bend I pulled out another brawling brook trout.  What gives I thought? 

Then it dawned on me that after several days of unseasonably cold weather with temperatures plunging into the lower forties, the fish needed warmth.  While under normal conditions the deeper bend pool would provide warmth, after an extended cold spell it was less hospitable.  And now with the sun beating down, the shallows were warming up more quickly and drawing the fish like a magnet.

This was part of my education that fish in smaller streams are especially sensitive to air and water temperature because water is typically shallower than in big rivers, even the deeper bend pools.  It will usually cool off faster and warm up more quickly.  On a hot day small stream fish will retire sooner to deeper bend pools or undercut banks where the water is cooler.  By same token, if the water is very cold then don’t be surprised if bigger fish are out in open in shallower water early on a sunny day warming up.  The optimum feeding temperature range for most stream trout is from around 52-64 degrees.  When the air temperature gets near or below 40 degrees followed by a sunny day, the conditions are right for the fish to seek out sunny shallow stretches. 

The moral of the story:  To assess where the most likely hiding spots are on any given day, especially after a change in the weather and air temperature, don’t forget your stream thermometer and use it when getting started to improve your “luck.”

Stream Thermometer–Don’t Leave Home Without It!

Tip #7:  Fish those back eddies

These are probably the most overlooked honey holes on small streams.  A back eddy is a section of a creek where part of the current reverses direction and flows upstream.  Typically, an eddy forms when the main current is obstructed by a rock, tree, or bank and is pushed to one side and in the reverse direction of the main current.  Use video.  Usually, the water in a back eddy is quiet and brings food right to the smart fish waiting there, who will be facing downstream into the flow of the back eddy. 

Big Small Stream Trout Love Lounging In Back Eddies For Easy Meals

To fish a back eddy, I normally use a short cast towards the beginning of the reverse flow while high sticking my rod to keep most of the line from dragging in the main current.  I then let the fly float slowly upstream, often in a foam line. Usually only my leader will be on the water to avoid the fly from being dragged downstream by the main current.  I also don’t shy away from letting the fly float to the top of the back eddy which is often covered with a layer of foam.  It’s not unusual that the biggest fish in the back eddy will be lying patiently under the shadow of the foam, dining at his leisure. 

BONUS TIP: As a reward for the stalwarts who finished reading the entire article, here’s a bonus tip: Fish out your casts—more so than in big water, fish will often pursue a fly downstream on a small creek. Why?The current in most small creeks is not anywhere nearly as strong as in a big river like the Arkansas or Gunnison. This allows the hungry trout to leave his holding lie, give chase to the fleeing faux insect for some distance, have a quick meal, and easily and quickly swim back to safety. Give it a try and you will see.

Slightly Addled Senior Goes Slip Sliddin’ Away Down Steep Slope For Trout

Early October 2020

One distinct pleasure of my 72 years on this good Earth has been finding remote canyons deeply incised by an untrammeled trout stream.  The thrill of standing on a canyon rim and gazing down with anticipation on a picture-perfect creek is hard to equal.  But as the population of the West continues to boom it is becoming harder and harder to find these gems…but not impossible.  It takes some sleuthing on-line and studying Google Maps’ satellite images as well as topo maps.  And you must be prepared to be disappointed when you get in the field and strike out like I did a couple of years ago exploring the upper reaches of the Lake Fork of Cochetopa Creek, which looked so good on Google Maps but in reality hardly had enough water to float a minnow. 

The wild card now for me is whether my achey breaky body is up to the hike down that steep slope to trout nirvana, and more importantly, will it hold up so I can make it out.  I reached the point a couple of years ago where I seriously started to wonder, so I swallowed my pride and purchased an Garmin InReach emergency satellite phone. 

Garmin Emergency Satellite Phone–Don’t Leave Home Without It

This handy dandy device can get service just about anywhere and with one press of the emergency button will alert the closest rescue cavalry that I need help.

To keep these gloomy feelings at bay I vow each year to ferret out another candidate remote water or two.  Just such an opportunity presented itself a few months ago when, after some investigation, I discovered a way to access a new stretch of water that I had never laid eyes on in a deep canyon of a familiar creek.  It would require a rough 4WD ride to the canyon rim, but Google Maps seemed to reveal an access route, albeit steep, from the top down to the stream that I might be able to navigate, if just barely.

With the days growing shorter, I figured I better get going.  After a bone-rattling drive I got to the canyon rim around 9 a.m.  I assumed correctly that there wasn’t a need to get going at the crack of dawn as the cliffs sheltering the creek would keep the water in shadows and cold till later in the morning.   Canyon trout definitely wake up when the sun shines on them.  I jump out of my SUV, check the tires for any damage, and then walk to the edge to take a look.  The creek below looks fantastic!

First glimpse Of Hidden Waters

But I blurt out a Holy **** when I focus on a nearly vertical route that had looked so promising on Google Maps, one that would require criss-crossing several scree fields of loose rock and gravel down a narrow gulch to reach the creek.    

Trouble Ahead!!

Thinking no way, I spend 15 minutes walking back and forth along the rim searching for a better path, maybe a trail local wildlife use, but come up empty.  I decide to ignore my misgivings and go for it.

I get suited up in my waist high waders that make for easier walking than chest-high models, unfurl my collapsible wading/hiking staff that will help  slow my descent, and double check my satellite phone to make sure it’s fully charged.  I start down the chute gingerly carrying my rod and lunch satchel in my left hand and the hiking staff in my right.  I make it down to the first scree field I have to cross and immediately lose my footing, slip down on my arse, and go sliding down the steep slope feet first.  I jam the staff into the loose rocks to slow my descent, but it’s going to take more.  I toss my rod to the side in a bush then jettison the lunch satchel, which goes careening down the slope at warp speed.  It makes for quite a show as half way down a can of Squirt in the satchel explodes and spews forth a geyser of the tasty elixir before the bag comes to rest against a pine tree only a few feet from the creek.  But with my left hand now free I’m able to grab another bush and put the brakes on.  After taking a deep breath I crawl back up the slope to retrieve my rod, which has miraculously survived unscathed. 

Question now is whether to abandon the quest. I’m maybe a third of the way down and what remains, if I continue, is one of the most dangerous slopes I have ever been foolhardy enough to tackle. But then my eyes rove to the gorgeous pools up and down the creek, so close and alluring. They are like lovely Sirens tempting me. I can’t resist and continue my mission, traversing back and forth across the slope very slowly, grabbing bushes and clumps of grass and jabbing my hiking staff into the ground to slow my descent. Ten minutes later I am standing next to the creek, pristine and crystal clear. I see a dipper bird on a shoreline rock, another good sign—dippers feed on subsurface nymphs and their presence means plenty of trout food.

But when I turn around, reality sets in as I gaze on the route I just took–it will be next to impossible to climb out on.

No Way, Jose!

Not to worry, I think, at least for now.  I have several hours to find a better exit track.  And lo and behold, I discover my lunch is mostly intact except for the now empty can of Squirt.  I stow the satchel under the shade of a pine tree and take off upstream, full steam ahead.  My plan is to fish upstream for about three hours, come back and have lunch, then three more hours of fishing downstream. As I do,  I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled for a better route out. 

I’m on the water and casting by 10:15.  The water is clear and ice cold.  I’ve scared up a few grasshoppers as I walked upstream and a quick check of rocks in the streambed reveals throngs of small mayfly nymphs and caddis cases.  I rig up with a #16 Royal California Trude dry that with its yellow body (as opposed to a Royal Coachman Trude’s red body) is a reasonable facsimile of the small hoppers I saw.  Trailing beneath it is a #18 Tung Teaser nymph that has worked well on other stretch of this creek. 

Delectable Of The Day–Tung Teaser

The first bend pool I come to looks like a sure hideout for a good-sized trout….and it proves to be just that. 

Can’t Miss First Pool

I cast above the bend, and as the dry fly floats down close to the undercut bank, it is intercepted by a nice trout that jets downstream, then up then back again and executes a couple of athletic jumps before I can get him to the net. He’s a beautiful muscular 14-inch brownie. I score several more fish before moving on.

For the next couple of hours I have a ball catching and releasing several dozen 10-14” browns, most favoring the nymph over the dry by about a 4:1 ratio, not surprising as there are no hatches going.  Some I find hiding under mid-stream vegetation while others are concealed in quiet water behind boulders just off deep, fast runs. 

The variety of pools and holding water where I found the fish make for an interesting morning, each requiring a different approach. I’ve also spotted a few exit routes on the north side of the creek that look easier and less death-defying than my initial one.  Around 12:30 I head back downstream to my lunch and a short break in the shade.  When I set out this morning the temperature was hovering in the mid-30s.  Now it’s in the 70s. 

By 1 p.m. I’m bushwhacking my way downstream where the canyon narrows and the creek picks up some speed.  My goal is the big pool I spotted this morning just below some pinnacles. 

The Pinnacles Mark The Spot

Twenty minutes later I wriggle through a stand of head-high willows and emerge just below the prospective honey hole.  It doesn’t disappoint. 

Pinnacles Honey Hole

It’s deep with three distinct channels pouring water in from above.  I can see fish finning in two of them where they flow into the pool.  In the run closest to me I spy a couple of 15-inch plus fish nonchalantly picking off bugs just below the surface.  I creep up carefully on the gravel bar below them then cast from a kneeling position.  I muff the first cast, dropping the fly right on their heads, but miraculously they don’t flee.  My second cast alights on target about six feet above them and a few feet to the side.  As the Trude slides down towards them, one of the big boys glides over with his mouth open and inhales the dry.  I set the hook and he’s on….but only for a second.  I flubbed and yanked a second too soon before he had really clamped down on the fly.  I let the pool rest for a few minutes and then try for his buddy.  I get another good float, but he ignores it.  Then, just as I begin to lift the fly 10 feet below at the bottom of the run, a smaller fish flashes up and nails the trailing Tung Teaser.  He’s on for a second, but I manage to execute another long-distance release.  I try another half dozen casts but finally spook the second big trout who disappears into the depths. 

Now I focus on the second run at the top middle of the pool.  I can see another good trout feeding actively in the shallower water just below where the current pours in.  I make a perfect cast above him a few feet, but the trout immediately rockets to the next county.  I then humbly fix my sights on the third run on the opposite side of the pool that against a boulder has created a big, slow-moving back eddy a kind of spot that often shelters big fish.  My flies land gently at the bottom of the eddy then slowly float back upstream along a foam line as I had planned.  Suddenly the Trude disappears, and I set the hook.  My rod bends, and a heavy trout thrashes to the surface, shaking his head to throw the fly…and he succeeds!  Aarrgghh! The fishing gods have forsaken me!! I flail the pool for another 15 minutes, but to no avail.  As I stand and walk up the gravel bar to do some reconnaissance for a possible future trip, I see four large fish, probably brownies, hugging the bottom, all with a case of lock jaw.  I smile and curse softly, letting the scoundrels know that I’ll be back and maybe the story will have a different ending then.  The good news is I think I have spotted a possible escape to get me back safely to my SUV later in the afternoon.

By now it’s almost 2 p.m. and I decide to work my way back upstream to get my lunch satchel, fishing along the way.  I manage a couple of more nice brown trout in a plunge pool, but this lower section is shallower and too fast to hold many fish. 

I grab my lunch and head back down to my chosen escape route, but on my way run into a little trouble. My wading staff breaks, leaving me with a short remnant to work with to steady me and help pull my old body up the steep incline.

Wading Staff For Sale–LIghtly Used

When I reach the bottom of the incline I say a little prayer and begin the climb out, criss-crossing back and forth on the steep slope. 

Stairway To Heaven??

It’s tough going, but easier than the way in because there are no scree fields and loose rocks to contend with.  I pause several times to catch my breath, and snap photos to remind myself that I was a bit daft to do this. 

On The Way Up!
Rest Stop!

But then again I can see some sweet looking pools just downstream that call out to be sampled in the future!

Who Can Resist The Sirens Call??

Fortunately, my broken wading staff is still just long enough that I can jab it into the soil above me just far enough to help pull my body up slowly but surely.  In 15 minutes I am back at my SUV, tuckered out but already starting to think about another trip using an easier access point I spotted further downstream. 

That night afters doses of wine and ibuprofen, I fall asleep quickly and have a vivid dream about what my fishing future might be like circa 2030.  I wonder if they make walkers that could work on a steep canyon slope??