Story and Photos by Ken Proper
Scott Barrus slipped the oar sleeves into the thole pins, made the collars snug, and pulled. The boat slid off Ramp 1 at Little Hole and launched into the clear emerald water of the B Section of the Green River, 7.2 river miles below Flaming Gorge Reservoir and at the end of the river’s renowned A Section.
Early-morning clouds threatened but finally retreated as shafts of April’s sunlight struck the water. With powerful strokes, Barrus quickly positioned us in the middle of the river. “It’s still cold, and we have to start deep with 9 feet of leader in the water,” he explained. “The trout will rise in the column as it gets warmer.”
Barrus, the owner of Spinner Fall Guide Service, had rigged Laurel Crossland’s rod with three nymphs—a Frenchie, a Zebra Midge, and a black midge pattern—all suspended beneath an intriguing indicator he had fashioned from unbraided brown and tan rope. It looked like a bit of floating debris and was highly visible. Crossland let the flies sink deep, with Barrus instructing, “Mend, mend, and fish to the future downstream.”
We had not reached Little Hole Ramp 3 yet. “We are going to do that stretch again,” Barrus exclaimed. He leaned forward against the thrust of the blades and rowed the several hundred yards up the river. The effective strength of a guide who rows every day on the river was on display. We floated down again, and then Barrus rowed up the river once more. We repeated the drift four times. It was a case of fishing a little to river left, a little to river right, stand up, sit down, keep plugging away. Perhaps the fish were still asleep, but Barrus’s strategy of meticulously searching for big fish was noteworthy.
Anglers willing to keep rowing back upstream can float and fish all day at Little Hole. But after a while, we headed downstream, past Ramp 3 and into the Green’s wild and remote 9-mile-long B Section. We watched walk-and-wade anglers hike about half a mile downriver to the first cliffs, where they had the option to climb up and over a steep hill, with spectacular views, on a trail that winds through several riverside campsites to endless choices of prime water. When I’m on foot, this has been favorite stretch of mine for decades.
Then Crossland hooked a brilliantly colorful brown trout. Barrus dropped the anchor, performed netting duty, and released the colorful, heavily spotted trout. We drifted a few yards and she hooked up again, this time with a hefty native mountain whitefish. A bald eagle flew by, viewing the scene. We continued around a deep river bend guarded by the steep red cliffs, to a stretch of wider, shallower water. Several more brown trout came to the net, all greeted by wide smiles. It was early in the day, and we were catching fish.
The B Section has 17 streamside campsites available for modest fees, allowing for leisurely overnight stays, typically accompanied by colorful sunsets and vibrant sunrises. All the sites are accessible by floating, and several by hiking. Reservations are required year-round (see Notebook). During the high summer season, roughly half of the B Section riverside campsites can be reserved online. The balance of the sites are first-come, first-served. From late September to mid-April, all B Section riverside campsites are on a first-come, first-served basis, and overnight floating parties must register at a board at the Little Hole host area, which shows daily which sites are available.
As the noon hour approached, Barrus pulled ashore at the Grasshopper I campsite, secured the boat, carried his portable stove/grill and cooler to the picnic table, and started preparing a gourmet lunch. Marinated teriyaki chicken sizzled on the grill while Barrus placed the tablecloth, then covered it with nibble-size treats, bread, lettuce, sliced tomatoes, onions, and a pasta side dish. With a smile, he told us we could start eating—and it was delicious.
I had camped at Grasshopper I and II several times over the years. The last time was during October 2020. Fires raged across the western United States, and while the river escaped the smoke, the full moon was rendered an eerie blood red. I pointed to the gnarly, giant, dead cottonwood next to the campsite and related to Barrus how a great horned owl had settled on a branch, then watched nonchalantly while my friends and I ate dinner at dusk. Barrus laughed and said, “They like that old snag. I’ve seen them there,” and told us that the B Section is rich in wildlife; anglers might see black bears, bighorn sheep, mule deer, elk, mountain goats, mountain lions, and lots of avian fauna.
Pleasantly sated, we packed up and shoved off. Barrus speculated that the river was flowing at about 860 cubic feet per second (cfs) and the nighttime flush from dam releases would reach 4,200 cfs. That prompted me to ask about scuds being washed into the river. “Scuds are a major food source for the fish, but their size is smaller now compared to years ago,” Barrus said. These shrimplike invertebrates feed on decaying matter and are flushed from the reservoir into the river with daily nighttime flow increases. Scud patterns are standard on the Green, but the river has a wealth of trout foods. Barrus rigged Crossland’s tippet with a Parachute Cricket above a Zebra Midge with a silver beadhead. With the air warming, he expected dry-fly action.
The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation (BAR) manages the reservoir to release 52- to 54-degree water into the river—ideal for trout and mountain whitefish. Weather has little effect on the water temperature, although, during hot summer days, the river can warm a bit well downstream from the dam. During heavy rainfall, intermittent Red Creek (about a mile downstream from Big Pine II campsite) can flush turbid flows into the river. Check the forecast—if rain is coming, camp above Red Creek so you can fish gin-clear water (both Big Pine campsites can be reserved during summer).
Red Creek is also noteworthy because it provides the name for the Green’s Red Creek Rapid. Although Crossland’s husband, Colby, is a guide for Spinner Fall, she had never floated through these rapids. However, Barrus was too busy netting and releasing brown trout to offer much explanation about the accelerating currents and narrowing canyon. We could hear the low roar of the rapids as Barrus glided the boat onto a beach above the rapids.
“Ken,” he told me, “I’m rowing down river right.”
With that, I hopped out and started walking down the well-worn path on river left. Nearly every coxswain walks this section, views the partially hidden boulders, and makes a mental plan for running river left. River right abuts an enormous red cliff, and forms swirling currents and whirlpools that can dangerously trap a boat. I readied my cameras. River left was shallow enough for me to wade a little closer to Barrus’s planned course, across the river. I waved that I was ready, so he launched, pulled into position with Crossland sitting in the front seat with her iPhone set to video, and pointed the bow downriver. Adroitly, he pulled and pushed the oars, dodging boulders, aiming the bow, and smiling the whole time. After a few healthy bounces on the waves, he came to river left and picked me up. “Man, that was some skinny water,” I exclaimed.
“Yes, it was,” he said.
We were in the section below the rapids, where floaters were either yahooing or breathing a sigh of relief. At the lower tip of an island, Barrus spun the bow upriver to face the modest channel flowing around the other side of the island. It was a master stroke of knowing the river and perfect dry-fly water. Most anglers drift right by this productive spot, but I will remember it. Crossland hooked a couple of hefty browns in short order.
We continued through Heaven’s Gate, into placid flows, and passed the Red Creek campsite, which has one of the few vault toilets along the river. The required lifejackets could come off here. Barrus powered downstream to one of his favorite sections, the Tree Tops area, where we cast in toward the banks, trying to gently land flies within a band of slow rippled water just offshore. Crossland pondered, “I’ve lost count of the number of fish I’ve caught.”
Barrus laughed, replying, “I don’t know, but it’s definitely in the high teens.”
He spun the boat around and faced upriver toward the smaller channel below another island. In short order, Crossland hooked a tank of a fish. After a dogged fight, the brown finally came to the net, where Barrus deftly measured it—21 inches—before quickly releasing the fish back into its fertile waters.
If you are not floating the river, you can enjoy the excellent dry-fly prospects by hiking the trail upstream from the Indian Crossing Campground for 2 miles to the Long Lake section and another 0.5 mile to the Tree Tops reach. Or you can row upriver from Indian Crossing if you’ve eaten your Wheaties that morning. Watch for the shadows of the trout as the fish, in a sort of a formation, glide just above the perfectly visible riverbed rocks and bright green weeds waving in the current.
As we finally approached Indian Crossing at the conclusion of our 9-mile float, Crossland hooked one final large brown trout just above the take-out. Barrus dropped the anchor on the cobble boat ramp, and they both climbed out. The fish surged into the deep water, and Crossland danced along the slippery rocks to keep up while Barrus followed with the net. Their expertise soon delivered the fish to the net, and after its quick release, Barrus ran up the ramp to fetch his truck and boat trailer. I gushed, “He is a beast with the oars,” and Crossland, an experienced rower, agreed.
The C Section
Barrus started out as a shuttle driver for Spinner Fall, eventually bought the company, and has now been showing anglers how to target the Green’s big fish for two decades. So I made a mental note when he explained to me that scuds were a major food source for the river’s trout, and a few months later, Mark Darlington, Paul Russell, and myself were well stocked with scud patterns for an August weekend on the Green, during which we planned to float parts of the 12-mile-long C Section.
We secured one of the 10 sites at the Bridge Hollow Campground, just downstream from the Taylor Flat Bridge across the Green River, and about 0.5 mile downriver from Indian Crossing (the start of the C Section). Russell, a guide in western Colorado, but not Utah, ran a strip of duct tape across his Colorado boat permit number and launched—no need to ruffle any feathers among fellow anglers who might think he was guiding beyond his territory.
Unless you are floating the Green with a guide, you need to leave a vehicle at a take-out or arrange to have someone meet you there. For the morning float down the river’s C Section, we shuttled a vehicle to rustic Riverside campsite, located at the big bend of the river, on Browns Park Road, which runs from US Highway 40 at Maybell, Colorado (as State Route 318) to US Highway 191 (the main road from Vernal and Dutch John, Utah, to Rock Springs, Wyoming). The turnoff to Taylor Flat and the Indian Crossing area is clearly marked at the big bend in the river. Russell and I shuttled his truck and boat trailer to the Lone Tree (aka Burnt Tree) boat ramp area and parked. The dirt roads are obvious but unmarked, and lead from paved Browns Park Road a short distance to the river.
With vehicles arranged, we set adrift under deep blue skies, eager to enjoy the scenic float under the watch of dramatic canyon slopes, bluffs, and mesas. We kept our eyes peeled for Trico mayflies on the river’s slow-moving slicks; these tiny insects hatch in extraordinary numbers on the lower section during August and September. But hatches can be fickle, and the Trico magic hour of 10 a.m. came and went with no insects, so we switched to two-fly rigs with scud patterns and red San Juan Worms, and the angling action began. Darlington hooked several browns, then took over rowing duties, allowing Russell to fish for a while.
About halfway through our 4-mile float from Bridge Hollow to Lone Tree, we dropped the anchor along the left bank so we could spend some time wade-fishing. For anglers without boats, a variety of access points—dirt roads and boat-ramp areas—provide ample wade-fishing opportunities along the C Section, which extends to the Colorado border. We loaded the boat on the trailer at the Lone Tree takeout ramp, returned to our campsite, and enjoyed a quick lunch. Then Darlington piled into Russell’s rig, and they hauled the boat to our next launch site. I followed with my car. We set the boat in the river and anchored it. I kept an eye on it and enjoyed some bonus fishing time while they returned to the take-out ramp with the trailer and drove back in Darlington’s car to meet me. Our second float of the day ran the short distance from Indian Crossing to Taylor Flat, where we pulled in during a gorgeous summer sunset. We put the boat on the trailer, drove to fetch our cars, and returned to camp to fix dinner, looking forward to the next day.
Finally, the A Section
Even after a day on the C Section, anglers can easily run up to the famous A Section for a second day—it’s only 33 road miles from the Taylor Flat Bridge and Bridge Hollow Campground to 502-foot-tall Flaming Gorge Dam, which marks the beginning of one the most famous trout tailwaters in the United States. The BAR maintains scheduled water releases that virtually assure consistent water temperature and clarity. The trout population in the 7.2-mile-long A Section is estimated at an astounding 22,000 fish per mile. This reach provides a great deal of opportunity for anglers. Wade-fishing access is excellent, but I recommend hiring a guide to float this stretch—you’ll benefit handsomely from good instruction and intimate local knowledge of the fishery.
I live in northwest Colorado, and my Trout Unlimited club, the Yampa Valley Fly Fishers, holds an annual trip to the Green River during April. We set up for a long weekend at Dripping Springs Campground, just east of Dutch John on West Little Hole Road; 2.7 miles beyond the campground, the road arrives at the Little Hole Recreation Area, the terminus of the A Section. During club trips, I’ve wade-fished and float-fished the A Section, and at popular Little Hole, hiking up- or downstream, or crossing the river in a raft or other small craft, helps gain some distance from other anglers.
About half of the club’s 20-plus annual spring trips to the Green have met with miserable weather—snow, rain, and sleet. Only warm layers and excellent waterproof jackets kept us on the river. But the Blue-Winged Olive hatch during such inclement weather was always incredible, and we caught lots of fish. On the other club trips, we’ve enjoyed sunny, warm weather, but that made the trout more selective. Decades ago, on one of those beautiful, frustrating days, Russell gave me a small Parachute-style black midge pattern he had created. Trout eat Chironomids year-round on the Green River, and thanks to Russell’s fly, we consistently caught trout while other anglers huffed in disgust and gave up in frustration.
The Green can do that to anyone—its trout can be difficult. But usually this river rewards both veteran anglers and those new to the sport, particularly if they employ one of the excellent local guides for a day or two to learn the ropes. For fly anglers, the Green River in Utah is a national treasure, a fishery that will cast a spell over you.
Longtime American Fly Fishing contributor Ken Proper is a career commercial photographer, freelance writer, and author who lives in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. His latest book is the historical novel Victims of Love, available at www.kenproperbooks.com.
Pablo’s Cripple
By Paul Russell
Hook: TMC 200R, size 20
Thread: Olive, size 8/0
Shuck: Brown Z-Lon
Abdomen: Olive superfine dubbing
Thorax: Adams gray superfine dubbing
Post/wing: Dark gray Para Post Wing, and dark dun hackle
Green River
NOTEBOOK
When: Year-round; prime times are April–May and October–November, but fishing can be excellent any time of year.
Where: Eastern UT, near the WY and CO borders. Camping: Numerous campgrounds are located along the river; make reservations at www.recreation.gov.
Access: Float and walk-/wade-fishing. Camping: For A Section (Dripping Springs), reserve at www.recreation.gov; for riverside camping sites in the B Section, October‒April, register in person at Little Hole launch site; May‒September, reserve at www.recreation.gov. For C Section (Indian Crossing and Bridge Hollow recreation sites), reserve at www.blm.gov; riverside primitive sites are first-come, first-served, and are adjacent to Browns Park Road.
Headquarters: Dutch John, UT. Information: Flaming Gorge Chamber of Commerce, www.flaminggorgecountry.com. Lodging: Flaming Gorge Resort, (435) 889-3773, www.flaminggorgeresort.com; Red Canyon Lodge, (435) 889-3759, www.redcanyonlodge.com; Dutch John Resort, (435) 848-8000, www.dutchjohnresort.com.
Appropriate gear: 4- to 6-wt. rods, floating lines, 5X and 6X tippets.
Nonresident license: $28/3 days, $46/7 days, $85/annual.
Useful fly patterns: Blue-Winged Olive patterns, Pablo’s Cripple, Parachute Adams, Pale Morning Dun patterns; Parachute Black Midge and other midge adult and emerger patterns (black, red, chartreuse), scud patterns (olive, orange), red San Juan Worm, Frenchie (red, chartreuse), terrestrial patterns (crickets, hoppers, ants, beetles) during summer.
Necessary accessories: Sunscreen, polarized sunglasses, waterproof jacket, season-appropriate clothing.
Fly shops/guides: Trout Creek Flies, (435) 885-3355, www.troutcreekflies.com; Western Rivers Flyfisher, (801) 521-6424, www.westernriversflyfishing.com. Spinner Fall Guide Service, (877) 811-3474, www.spinnerfall.com; Old Moe Guide Service, (435) 885-3342, www.oldmoeguideservice.com; Dutch John Resort, (435) 848-8000, www.dutchjohnresort.com; Trout Bum 2, (435) 658-1166, www.troutbum2.com.
Books/maps: Utah’s Green River: A Fly Fisher’s Guide to the Flaming Gorge Tailwater by Dennis Breer; Green River (River Journal series, No. 3) by Larry Tullis. Utah Atlas & Gazetteer by DeLorme.
