Fishing the McCloud in May

Fishing The Fishing The McCloud in McCloud in May May By Peter Burrows Photos by Dave Harding

Like so many California fly-fishers, I fell hard for the Nature Conservancy’s McCloud River Preserve the first time I fished it in the mid-1990s. I’ve probably made it back at least once every year since then. When it comes to fishing for world-famous wild rainbows and huge browns in an almost magically beautiful wilderness, you can’t beat it. If you’ve fished here, as most Irideus readers have, I’m sure you know what I mean.

The latest proof for me came on a Monday and Tuesday in early May, when my friend and new GPFF member Dave Harding had two of the five reserved spots the Nature Conservancy makes available each day. There are also five tags for walk-ons, for a total of ten rods per day, which leaves plenty of room to find solitude on the 3-mile stretch. (I would never plan on getting a walk-on tag, since others are likely thinking the same thing. The good news is that there is plenty of great water to fish outside of the Conservancy section if you don’t get a tag).

The hardest part of a trip to “the Conservancy” is always the start. It’s a long drive from my home in Alameda; I can do it in around five or six hours, but it can run to seven if you hit traffic getting out of the Bay Area. And the last 40 minutes or so is on a very rough 8-mile dirt road that has gotten rougher by the year. One acquaintance says only people who are getting

old and cantankerous say that, but what the hell does he know. What a jerk, am I right?

But the ride is so worth it. And this time, I was going to fish it in May for the first time. I always try to fish the McCloud in the Fall, when the colors are unbelievable and the big browns have come up from Lake Shasta, and when you can get some truly fantastic big dry-fly fishing using October Caddis patterns.

The river is also famous for its Spring fishing, but I’d never had much luck. One June the water was high and mudded out from heavy flows from the aptly name Mud Creek. Another time it rained so hard that our guide that day, the excellent John Rickard, suggested we cancel.

This time, the weather was sunny and windless. After stopping in at the Ted Fay Fly Shop in Dunsmuir for fly suggestions and a bit of griping about politics with owner Bob Grace, we headed in. Just near the turn off for the AhDi-Na campground, at around mile 7 of the dirt road, we saw a fluffy, cinnamon-colored black bear. We would see a lot more wildlife on this trip than usual, including garter snakes, lizards and a doe that stopped by to have a drink a few yards from where I was fishing. I can’t explain all this activity, but I’m guessing it’s a Spring phenomenon. All these signs of life, including wild iris and other beautiful flowers as well as songbirds and butterflies, were a big bonus.

After making the ten-minute walk from the end of the dirt road to the caretakers’ house, we grabbed our tags and signed in. We worried that it was too sunny and windless for the fish, but they complied throughout the day. One of the great things about this section is the variety of water, from pocket-water to riffles to deep enticing holes, most of which are easily accessed from well-worn trails. After an hour or so, it became clear the rainbows were stacking up in the soft seams along runs. I caught a 17” rainbow while euro-nymphing (I believe it was a tungsten purple hot spot), and then another similarly-sized fish indicator-fishing with a size 18 bead-less pheasant tail. Dave had luck that morning on a variety of other go-to nymphs, including red copper johns, hare’s ears and probably the fly I’ve caught the most fish on in the McCloud, the dark lord.

Soon, a brown march hatch started, and continued on and off during the day. Dave and I each set up shop in sections with long-runs that had rock walls on the far side. The fish were grabby, either in the soft water near the middle of the river, or if you could land your fly right in tight along the rocks and elephant ears

on the far bank. I was fishing 6x tippet, and had the best luck with small brown march emerger patterns and size 16 or 18 “pinky” mayflies. We probably caught 15 or 20 fish between us, and missed plenty more, on a variety of flies. It was a memorable day.

And then came Tuesday. Everything seemed the same. The weather was just as perfect, the hatches were similar and I think I fished about as well. But the fish did not cooperate. They’d shut off. By the time we headed for home, I had caught just two fish – and both had been foulhooked. I’m sure that means something, and should have led me to try a different tactic. If you have a theory, I’d love to hear it.