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Jigging Browns on the Price River |
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By Tony Abbott In May of 1997 two friends, Brett and Dan, and I decided to head downstream and try jigging the river for a change. We walked a couple of miles down to where the river begin flowing a little faster and decided to start there. This was the first time I had really tried jig fishing - now I'm converted for life. The first hole we found wasn't very big but Brett assembled his rod and was ready for action. No sooner had his jig hit the water than a 15-inch brown came bouncing out. I stood there amazed and barely had time to catch my breath when Dan threw in and - BAM - another great fish was hooked. We unhooked the two fish and took pictures and then it was my turn to cast. I got the same result, only this time it was a chunky rainbow. I was amazed that we had caught three fish in three casts in the same hole. I could only imagine what the rest of the day would be like. We were using three-inch tube jigs and working them against the current. We cast below a likely spot, then worked the jig along the bottom where we thought there would be fish. The great thing about jigs is that you can control them, and drop them at any target point. You get lots of snags when you are learning the technique, but it's worth it - as the fish we caught this trip testify. As we moved downstream we found great success. Hole after hole and cutbank after cutbank, we caught fish after fish. Most of the fish were brown trout in the 14-to-18-inch class. It got to the point that we were pulling the jigs away from 14-inch fish so we could catch the bigger ones. We were catching fish in every possible part of the river. Four miles down from the dam we sat on a grassy bank, ate lunch and laughed at the day's activities. I don't know how many fish we caught, but let's just say it was my best fishing day ever. We started back upstream, Brett on the opposite side from Dan and me. We again caught an unbelievable number of fish and started planning next year's trip. As we continued, we came to a small hole with a log through the middle of it. Brett snuck up on the hole and dropped a jig in. Before he could say a word, a huge brown came splashing out of the water. Dan and I watched as Brett battled the Old Monarch. It seemed like 10 minutes, but I'm sure it was only a few seconds. Brett fought the fish as well as anyone could, but the old beast ripped the hook out of its mouth. As we headed up the railroad tracks, we wondered how big the fish really was. We guessed it to be 21-inches and at least four pounds but, as it turned out, that was a conservative guess. In May of 1998 I headed for the Price River again. This time Brett and Dan cold not come along and so I brought my friend, Cody Bradford, and my three-year-old son, Jacob. As you can imagine, fishing was much the same as the year before. Jacob was having a great time reeling in the fish I hooked, and Cody quickly became a fellow believer. As we approached the hole that the big feller had been in, my heart started to race. I had been telling Cody about this fish all day and he didn't believe a fish that size could be in this creek. We fished the hole for 20 minutes and caught several nice fish, but none of them were the King. Cody gave up and sat down to eat a sandwich. Of course, Jacob was more interested in fishing than in something as boring as eating, so I would hook a fish, hand the rod to Jake, and he would reel it in, thinking he was the greatest fisherman in the world. I decided that the big fish had either died or outsmarted me this time around so I cast the jig in one more time and hooked one more fish for Jacob. As he reeled it in, it became snagged on the bottom - or so I thought. I tried to help him, but what three-year-old wants help, so I sat down with Cody and started eating lunch. Just then Cody noticed that the line loosened up and started moving across the creek. As he got up to help Jacob he realized that we had the big one hooked. I dropped my lunch and fought Jacob for the rod, as the fish headed upstream for some nearby brush in a bend of the creek. Luckily I was using eight-pound test line and could slow him with the drag before he reached the brush. He turned downstream and five minutes later I brought him to shore. As I lifted him out of the creek, I realized "he" was a big female, well past her prime. She measured 24-inches long and weighed nearly six pounds. I decided to keep the fish. I figured a fish this size was only eating other fish, and I'd do the creek a favor by putting her on my wall. Anything else that could have happened would have been anticlimactic, so I loaded Jacob in one arm, the fish in the other, and headed upstream to the taxidermist. During the drive home I just couldn't believe we'd caught the same fish twice. Of course, Jacob tells everyone the fish is his. How do you argue with a three-year-old? |
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The
Price River (also known as Lower Fish Creek), located below Scofield Dam,
is a beautiful stream nestled in the bottom of a winding canyon that starts
at the dam and ends at the highway six-to-eight miles downstream. I've
enjoyed fishing this stream in the summertime, usually concentrating on
the top mile or so. It's a great place to take the wife and kids: easy
access, restrooms, a small bridge and a view of the dam from below make
it a perfect afternoon get-a-way.
