Picabo Angler

Pee-Ka-Boo is a Native American word meaning "Shining Waters."

Picabo Angler is a destination: A full-service fly shop & outfitter located on the banks of world-renowned Silver Creek

July 28TH Double R Fishing Report "Great Blue Heron"

Monday, July 28, 2014:


This morning was one of those overcast mornings rife with the prospect of opportunity.  Early on the water was like glass, it was cool and uniformly overcast.  I should have been out on the water but slept in because I was recovering from a 4 day reunion with 4 college fraternity brothers and I felt too groggy to fish.  My loss, from what I heard from some more hardy anglers who plied the lower field water on the Double R Ranch.  Early on there were a good number of female Tricos hatching and sparsely tied green bodied Duns were the answer to the puzzle.   Thereafter, the Callibaetis in a size 16 made a strong appearance and one observant Member saw Duns with down wings floating by, and saw some of their wings become upright just before taking off.  To me, that would have been a wonderful sight . . . to see a very short period of the mayfly’s life unfold.  Just before the wind gained strength the Baetis made an appearance; that is, if you can see a size 24 on the water.   The next several days are forecasted to involve cloudy conditions as well, though maybe not as fully overcast and cool as today, so you might be advised to get your float tube out on the field water and The Pond.


I have long thought that I was the most patient creature in the galaxy.  I say “galaxy” rather than the universe because way deep down I guess I recognized the possibility that someone or something had even stronger powers of patience than me, though in truth I doubted it.  I usually fish Silver Creek 90 or more days a season and I play high stakes No Limit Texas Hold’em poker most of the winter, both endeavors favor the patient soul and I do well at both of them.  

This afternoon I was sitting in a camp chair outside my trailer enjoying one of the few cool comfortable days of July, an unexpected pleasure and a relief from the confines of my air conditioned trailer, when a Great Blue Heron landed in the shallows of the creek and assumed a fishing position.  I didn’t move an inch for a half hour, nor did the Heron.   I admired the Heron’s stamina and ability more than mine because I was, after all, comfortably seated and he was standing up.  It only occurs to me now in retrospect than standing for a period of time might not be taxing for a Heron.  But, I’ve admired the ability to stand motionless for an extended period of time ever since I watched a squad of West Point cadets stand for what seemed to a 9 year old to be hours, in the sweltering heat, until one of them keeled over maybe 20 feet from me.  Just as my increasingly faltering memory made that connection, the Heron’s head darted down and snared a small Rainbow trout.  After gobbling the trout down, the Heron resumed his watch.