"RAINBOWS IN NAVAJO COUNTRY", published by Trout and Salmon

January 2005



There can be few more surreal places to catch trout than the San Juan River. High in the scorched, arid desert of Northern New Mexico, the ancestral home of the Navajo Indians, perhaps the last thing you’d expect to find is this freakish fly-fishing nirvana, a crystal clear stream containing more trout per mile than anywhere else in the lower 48 states of the USA.

The San Juan trout fishery is a product of the huge damming program that swept the country throughout the middle of the last century. Where once the river ran warm and muddy, the tailwater below Navajo Dam, built in 1963, now runs cool and clear, and the fish stocked in its waters have flourished.

Anglers come from all over the US to fish this prolific river, and the fish are so used to fishermen that they will happily feed just a few feet away from the angler in knee deep water, clearly visible but confident that they can spot an imitation and avoid it. As you wade into the river, fish will drift downstream and gobble up the bugs you’ve dislodged – a phenomenon that has spawned the notorious – and now banned – “San Juan shuffle”, the practise of intentionally kicking up nymphs and then fishing through them.

I had a couple of days on the river, and was fortunate to have as my guide Chris Guikema, owner of the excellent Rainbow Lodge and Resolution Guiding Service. Chris knows the San Juan backwards & is THE man to show you around the so-called “Quality Water”, the four and a quarter miles directly below the dam that is estimated to hold an astonishing 80,000 fish.

“Got any small midge patterns, Matt?” asked Chris, as we waded into the fast, icy waters of the main river.

As I fumbled in my waistcoat, a pod of brawny-looking rainbows swung in just downstream of me, and start to snaffle the bugs we’d dislodged. After spending four months in New Zealand, creeping up to fish on my hands and knees, the sight seemed utterly bizarre.

I opened a box of small nymphs – mainly size 16’s and 18’s - and showed my guide: “You call those small?” he laughed, “those are HUGE!!!” Reaching into a fly box, he fished around with his forceps and dropped something into my outstretched palm. My eyes hunted around for a second or two and then finally found what they were looking for – a speck of a fly, similar in design to our ‘buzzer’ patterns, but impossibly minute, tied on a microscopic hook. ”Now THAT is small,” grinned Chris.

“That one’s a size 28” said Chris, as I squinted at the tiny artificial, “We shouldn’t need to go that small today.” I relaxed – the thought of trying to land the myriad rainbows in the fast, icy waters of the San Juan on such a minute hook was just silly. I was forced to re-assess the situation when Chris passed me another, similarly tiny fly and told me that this was a size 26. “You get a way better hook-hold with these bigger flies” he said, with just a twinkle of mischievous humour that made me suspect that I was being had.

Chris rigged up with a “San Juan Worm and his ludicrous size 26 midge, and after a dozen casts, his indicator gave a tiny skip. The rod hooped over and a streak of silver shot up through the water column and raced off downstream. After a violent tussle, Chris bullied the fish into his net. I splashed over and saw the tiny fly jammed solidly between the rainbow’s jagged teeth. It wasn’t a practical joke - they really worked!

I waded to the top of the next run & mimicked Chris’s high-stick nymphing technique. After I ‘d lost three fish, Chris came up to watch. I struck another fish and sure enough it shook its head and spat the hook. “Try striking directly up instead of to the side” counselled Chris, and the advice worked like a charm. The next three rainbows all reached the net, despite being hooked on the tiny size 26. “If you strike upwards, the hook gets in between their teeth and finds purchase,” explained Chris. We fished through to lunch, hooking – and more than occasionally landing - a succession of bright, feisty rainbows, almost all of which fell for the tiny midge.

After lunch, Chris casually asked if I fancied trying some dry-fly fishing. Is the pope a catholic? Chris led the way through some dense scrub, and we emerged in a wide bay off of the main current. I pulled my Polaroids back on and nearly fell over – we were surrounded by maybe thirty rainbows, casually cruising the bay and molesting the tiny midges hatching there. Chris likes to use a size 14 foam ant as a ‘sighter’, with a size 24 parachute Adams, immaculately tied and perfect in every detail, and capable of imitating both the midges and the miniscule olives that make up the staple diet of the San Juan fish.

Two fish showed utter disdain for my flies. A third, however, after nonchalantly declining the tiny parachute, rushed the ant and wolfed it greedily. I struck and watched the fish rocket across the shallow flat, a runaway train ploughing through the feeding fish and sending them all scuttling for cover.

Ants are Chris’s secret weapon: a ‘hatch-buster’. If you can’t successfully mimic the flies that the fish are keying on, try a simple foam ant. Often, you’ll get to watch as the previously spellbound fish forget their pre-occupation and gobble down the terrestrial.

Through the bushes, I could glimpse other anglers out on the main river using the nymphing techniques we’d employed all morning. It looked like hard work: we had the bay to ourselves, and wading in the hot New Mexico sun, targeting individual fish on the knee deep, sandy flat, and watching them streak off across the shallow bay, I could have been bone-fishing. After taking a few fish, I moved around to the point where the main river met the mouth of the bay. A pod of trout were tucking in to a stream of tiny olives and each fish would look at my flies repeatedly before resuming its station and continuing to feed. I cracked the code by taking the ant off and fishing the tiny parachute Adams on its own. Wading up above the fish and drifting the flies downstream, so that the fish saw the fly before the leader, I found that suddenly these impossible fish were catchable – I hooked and landed four of them on the magical little fly and enjoyed one of the most fascinating hour’s fishing I’ve ever had.

Chris doesn’t just fish the “Quality water”. Downstream, he has some private access to a wonderful, relatively underfished stretch of the river. After the cerebral challenge of sight fishing to the fastidious rainbows with tiny flies during the day, this water offers the perfect antidote. That evening, I made my way down to the river with one of Chris’s guides, Mike, and his lovely girlfriend, Noreen. On this reach of the river, the big, picky rainbows are replaced by gorgeous, speckled browns that lie low during the day and then come out to murder the hapless egg-laying caddis flies that skitter across the surface in the last magical hour.

There would be no messing around with tiny flies and skinny little tippets here – a big, bushy stimulator went arcing out across the river and I didn’t need to squint in order to see it skate across the golden water. Soon enough, a succession of scarlet-spangled browns had succumbed to its charms, and looking up the river to where Noreen and Mike were fishing, I could see that I wasn’t the only one making hay. As the sun started to wink behind the high desert bluffs away to the west, and a cool breeze came up the river, I almost didn’t care that the activity seemed to be coming to an end. Suddenly, there was an explosive detonation on my fly and a big angry brown went raging off down the river. I did my best to follow and after a few minutes started to tentatively work the fish in towards the bank. Suddenly, I remembered the size 10 hook – what was I doing, mincing around, gently trying to coax the fish like I’d been doing all day, using the ultra-fine gear needed upriver? I leaned hard on the fish, vaguely thinking there might be time for another. Sure enough, the best fish of the day rolled over…and spat the hook.

Walking back to the car, Noreen and Mike told me of some of their favourite fishing spots. “Have you heard of the Green River in Utah?” asked Mike, as I tried not to watch Noreen wriggling seductively out of her waders. “Great dry-fly water!” “You’d love it, Matt” chimed in Noreen enthusiastically: ”lots of sight fishing, big fish, and wild scenery too. It’s an awesome river!”

“You know what?” I grinned, “That’s where I’m going next.”




Factfile:

Guides:

The San Juan is an extremely technical fishery where a good guide is invaluable.

Chris Guikema is excellent: a knowledgeable and easy-going guide, who spends most of his free time fishing, on the San Juan or further afield. He can organise drift-boat trips or wade fishing on the San Juan, as well as other great trout streams in southwestern Colorado, notably the Animas and Delores, near Durango.

Chris has a tackle shop on site, stocking everything you need, and he supplies those crucial flies, tippet and so on as part of the guiding fee.

Contact Chris Guikema at:
Resolution Guiding Services

Phone: 001 505-632-5717
e-mail: chris@sanjuanworm.com
website: www.sanjuanfishing.com/








Accommodation:

If you are with the family, as I was, you might want to stay in Durango, where there’s lots for the non-fishers in the gang, but bear in mind that this entails a long drive down to the river and back every day. If you’re all fishing, better to stay at Chris’s Rainbow Lodge, right on the river, where the resident chef, Brad Neudorf excels in whipping up extravagant new-age takes on the traditional local cuisine: his menu boasts, amongst other delicacies, Duck Taquitos with Queso Fresco, followed by Rock Shrimp over Corn Cakes with Chipotle Coconut Sauce. Almost worth missing the caddis hatch for!

Tackle:

Rods:
A tip-actioned five-weight is just about capable of throwing the heavily-leaded nymphing rigs favoured on the San Juan.

I had a lot of fun throwing the tiny dries with a gentle-actioned three-weight and you could go even lighter, but bear in mind that the ultra-light rod fetish soon pales when the breeze gets up – always have something more practical along, just in case.



Flies:

A small selection from Chris’s shop - look at the sizes!!!!

Dries:

Midge Dry (Black, Gray, and Olive) #20-28
Griffith Gnat (Midge clump) #16-24
CDC Midge Adult (Black and Gray) #20-28
Comparadun (BWO) #18-24
Sparkle Dun (BWO) #18-24
CDC Transitional Dun (BWO) #18-24
Parachute Adams #16-24



Nymphs:

Midge Pupa (Black Brown, and Olive) #20-28
Midge Larva (Cream or Olive) #18-24
Brassie (Copper and Red) #18-24
Disco Midge #18-24
WD 40 (Brown and Gray) #18-24
Pheasant Tail #16-20
Analids (Red, Orange, and Pink) #16-22
San Juan Worm (Red, Orange, and Tan) #12-14



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