Fly Fishing Freemont Canyon for BIG BROWNS
Westbound & Wild: Episode 3 – The One That Got Away
We rolled into Wyoming’s Fremont Canyon with high hopes. The air was crisp, the water fast, and the cliffs rose high on both sides. After two long travel days, this was finally it. The moment we had been waiting for.
Drake and I split up to cover more water. I gave him plenty of room to work while I searched for my own stretch to fish. The plan was simple: throw big streamers for big trout.
Hunting for Browns
Walking toward the canyon, I found a small split in the current that looked too good to pass up. I rigged the 8 foot 6 inch five weight, tied on a black articulated streamer, and started ripping casts through the run.
Big fly, big fish. That was the mindset.
The current was strong, the water icy cold. It felt more like tarpon fishing than trout fishing, watching for ambush zones, reading the seams, and hoping for a flash. And then it happened. A huge brown drifted out from behind a rock and followed my fly. Heart racing, I kept stripping. It turned, chased, and disappeared.
The Chase
That fish was not alone. Every time I moved spots, another shadow would appear, swirl, and fade back into the depths. At one point, I saw a massive trout make a full body rise just under the surface. It was not sipping, it was hunting.
I threw everything at them. The water was too high to wade safely, so I fished from the rocks, trying to keep contact in the heavy flow. Each time a fish ate, the line would tighten, the rod would bend, and then it was gone.
Three big browns and one rainbow came unbuttoned. One of the browns was easily twenty five inches, the kind of fish you travel across the country for.
Trial and Error
I started questioning everything. Was I setting the hook wrong? My instincts said to strip set like I do with tarpon, but trout are a different story. Every time I felt that heavy pull, the fish would explode out of the water, shaking its head and spitting the fly.
Even with a double hook Game Changer pattern, they were not sticking. Maybe they were hitting from the side, or maybe the aggressive takes were working against me. Whatever the reason, I could not seem to hold one.
Lessons in the Canyon
As the day went on, I began to realize that this trip was not about landing every fish. It was about learning the rhythm of new water. The sound of the canyon walls, the color of the current, the way a streamer swims through the push of cold air and faster flows.
By the end of the day, I had lost three big browns and a rainbow, but gained something more important. A reminder that even failure has its beauty.
A Song for the Day
"It is not the catch, just the calm I find,
When the wild reminds me I am still alive."
Watch the Episode
Streamer fishing Fremont Canyon for giant browns and rainbows, where every near miss tells its own story.