Light at the End of the Tunnel – Rene’ Harrop

Airflo blogger Rene’ Harrop muses on the spring fishing that lies ahead….

Through much of a winter that seems to stretch endlessly in some years, May can exist like a distant light at the end of a tunnel.

Twenty eighteen has been one of those years when temperatures have remained consistently below normal through the months of March and April. As a result, precipitation has arrived in the form of snow at least as often as the rain that typically separates the storms of spring from the season just passed.

There are many reasons to look forward with great anticipation to the arrival of May and most if not all are related to weather conditions. Beyond Baetis and midges, spring hatches on the Henry’s Fork are dependent upon stable water and air temperatures that are consistently above freezing. This includes nearly every aquatic insect above size sixteen and there is no exception to this hard rule.

Fortunately, the lower Fork has finally moved passed the time when snow is not an impediment to accessing the water and bundling against the cold is no longer a constant requirement. It is a different story in the high country, however.

Early May is the traditional time to change my residence from five thousand feet elevation to a location nearly two thousand feet higher. In most years I have succeeded in meeting that long awaited target but this year that may not be the case.

Soon To Be Occupied

Soon To Be Occupied

As recent as late April nearly three feet of snow surrounded our summer cabin and nighttime temperatures were still dropping into the low double digits. Comparing this to the green lawn and early blooming flowers in our yard at St. Anthony is a description of two different worlds that lie less than fifty miles apart.

Trading caddis and March Brown hatches in sixty degree weather for a return to conditions left more than a month behind is tough to consider as the calendar turns to the fifth month of the year.

Early Rainbow

Early Rainbow

Right now I am thinking it will be at least two weeks until our annual move back to Island Park can be justified. In the interim, my fishing at Last Chance will continue to be a one hour commute, although recently it has been well worth the drive.

And while I stand in the river with snow still lining the banks and fishing a size twenty Baetis rather than a caddis two sizes larger, I am compelled to remember that this will change at some near point.

Spring Brown

May has arrived and before month’s end an extra-long winter will become only a memory as it is replaced by another new season that holds no bounds for a fly fisherman.

And I plan to be there for it all.

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