The Big Lost River Fly Fishing: Lose Your Self

I lost something. I’ll never get it back. I was almost in tears. Yes, I nearly broke down a few times while camping and fly fishing on the upper Big Lost River in central Idaho. Hooked a huge Cutthroat trout one day. One of my best drifts ever. Right in the back of a slow eddy. A micro current was flowing a bit on river right. There were lots of swirling eddies at the head of the room-sized pool. I cast my Pale Morning Dun fly (PMD) into the swirling eddies. Let the current do the work.

First Mistake

Fishing thin 6x tippet. First mistake of the day. But some fish were turning away from the stronger, thicker 5x tippet earlier in the morning.

Anyway, I stripped out more slack fly line. The PMD slowly drifted toward the dark shadows in the back of the pool.

Big Lost River Fly Fishing: Fish Rises

I saw her rise in slow motion to the fly and take it. Immaculate.

Setting The Hook

My swift hook set was by the book. Perfect.

Fish On!

The frightened fish flees to the head of the pool. Swims left. Then right. Fine. I’m loving the fight. Let her get spent.

Fish Makes a Run

Suddenly, she drops back. I wasn’t ready for it. Still, I slow her run a bit.

So, there’s this root ball in the back of the pool to my left, the size of a bush. She starts to make a run for it. I can turn her, I think. Stop her escape. I start to, angling my rod to my right, tightening my fly line. And I start to turn her back. Just before she’s about to flee underneath those roots.

I see her circle and flash. A huge Cutthroat trout! My biggest ever! At least 21 inches! Suddenly, I can see her no more. And my fly line is as tight as a guitar string.

S*&^@, I scream.

Denial Phase

My jaw drops. This can’t be! I try my fly line again. Still, taut and unwavering. Then, I see a stick shudder a bit just underneath the surface. A branch is sticking up from the riverbed about 2 feet in front of the root ball and the deep waters around it.

Anger Phase

You son-a-&#%! I scream. G*&#%!

Wading into the pool, I forget that I’m wearing my hip waders and not my full chest-high waders. Icy cold mountain water spills into my boots.

Argh! I holler.

I see my fishing line wrapped around the branch, but no fly attached.

Where is it?

Acceptance Phase

In the corner of the giant Cutthroat’s mouth. Where else? And she’s submerged in the deep dark waters where I can’t see her, feeling the icy cold water caressing her flanks. The same bone-chilling water that’s still splashing into my boots.

Get out! I scream aloud.

Quickly, I unwrap the leader. Stomp out of the pool.

On dry land again, I empty the water out of my hip waders as best as I can. Then, I tie up some new fishing line, going over everything that had just happened …

Big Lost River Fly Fishing: Reminiscence Phase

What a rise! What a fish! I could tell people that I caught her. But, that would be a lie. Fact is, she got away, leaving me with nothing but memories. Memories of camping and fly fishing on the upper Big Lost River in central Idaho.

Memories of this Place: The Big Lost River Experience…

The high mountain desert. And a beautiful silver stream meandering right through it. Through the sagebrush and willows where the fox, moose, deer, bear, and mountain lion lurk.

Memories of cloudy days. Rain. Thunder and lightening in the desert. Storms shrouding the distant peaks.

Sunsets that make a man want to cry.

Then cold nights. Full of stars. That put you at rest and peace. And make you fall fast asleep.

Cutthroats

Memories of fish with frayed fins, sandblasted by the riverbed and spring runoff we don’t have in the East. Gorgeous Cutthroat trout. A few Cuttbows, too.

My first time in the high mountain desert. Quiet. Stark.

A wet season with wildflowers in the fields. Green brush. Orange and red cliffs, rising up. And ruby-colored talus, spilling off the slopes. Blue skies that make the mind come to a halt.

An Unfamiliar Landscape

Everywhere I looked, the landscape was so different than anything that I’ve ever seen before in my life. Different than the lush greenery of the Appalachian Mountains near Roan Mountain–the place that I call home. Different than the alpine meadows, mountains, and whitewater rivers of the Idaho panhandle, the place where I’ve come from on this road trip. And way different than the spring-fed lakes and bogs of Maine where I once fished back in my cubicle-cage days.

So different, in fact, that I remain motionless, trapped in a state of astonishment, staring at my surroundings, unable to comprehend this strange land …

Big Lost River: Fly Fishing Further Downstream

Eventually, though, I head downstream to explore this magical world some more. And I catch a few more decent fish until the sun dips a bit lower on the horizon. Now I know that it’s time to go back to camp. It’s about a mile or so away; and I guess that it’s going to get dark in about an hour.

Second Mistake

That’s when I make my second big mistake of the day. What I should’ve done was just walk back upstream, following the river back to my tent along the banks. But, I think it will be easier to just take the forest service road, which looks like it’s only about 1/8 of mile away, just through the willow bushes on the far shore.

Getting Lost on the Big Lost River

So I cross the river and wander through the brush, following moose trails toward the roadway. But, inevitably, in a clearing, I get turned around. Become lost. A maze of brush engulfs me. The patchwork of sagebrush and willows has now become an infinite wilderness of inscrutability.

Fear grips me. The sun is setting. It’s gets cold fast around here. And I don’t want to spend the night alone, exposed to the dangerous cold, lost in some damp clearing. I want to head back to the river. But I don’t know which way I’ve come from. Can’t figure out which way to the road, either. In short, I’m so lost now that I could walk in circles all evening.

My Worst Fear

Suddenly, I see a moose stumble into the clearing in front of me. She sees me, snorts, and charges right at me. A massive angry beast. My heart skips a beat. I want to run for my life or duck behind the brush, but my feet feel like they’re frozen to the ground. I see her eyes narrow, her head duck, the moist breath coming from her nostrils, like smoke. Then, the dark, terrifying creature somehow passes right through me, like an apparition in a dream.

Following the Moose

Scarcely able to breathe, I turn and see her lumbering through the brush, breaking a trail toward the river. I follow in her wake, keeping a safe distance. And eventually, we make our way back to the river, where I sneak around her and head back upstream to my camp.

Back at Camp on the Big Lost River

Back at camp later that night, I laid back and stared up at the stars through the mesh netting of my tent, wondering just exactly what had really happened to me in that clearing. I’d seen that moose. I was sure of it. But, it must’ve been a figment of my imagination, a waking dream, or the delusion of some madman, because that moose would’ve surely plowed right into me. Trampled me to a bloody pulp. I knew that for a fact. I’d seen it right in front of my face. Still, it’d somehow passed right through me, like a brisk winter breeze.

Losing My Mind

At that moment, I knew that I’d really lost it and that I actually hadn’t seen anything in that clearing in the willows. Lost and confused, I’d just hallucinated that vision of the moose. But, I’d also experienced quite a few other hallucinations over the last two months, which had all started from the moment that I’d arrived out West on this road trip. Only now did I realize that my mind was really falling apart. And it wasn’t just my eyes playing tricks on me. In despair, I thought that I might be able to stop myself from losing it for good by just thinking clear and normal, once again. Then, I could pull myself together, end these strange visions, and stop this mind loss from really happening to me.

Letting Go and No Resistance

But, in my heart I knew that it was already too late for me. And, anyway, I’d changed so much on this long journey that I had no hope that I’d ever be able to go back to my old ways of thinking. So, I just let go of everything at that point and offered no resistance to what was happening. And, under those stars in the high mountain desert with the river running beside me, I soon lost my mind completely. Became aware of just being. Experiencing the ultimate state of freedom, in which all my worries, cares, and fears in this world, along with the concept of me, abruptly disintegrated into the infinity of space, time, and energy. And, in this void, this black hole that was created in the absence of my own self-identity, a supernova of inescapable love, truth, and universal consciousness engulfed all things in creation for an eternity.

Surrender Your Self

So don’t worry, if you lose it all on the Big Lost River, like I did. Because, trust me, you’re gonna lose it, if you ever dare to go there. But you can take great solace in knowing that you’ll only be lost for a while on the Big Lost River in central Idaho. Lost and alone in this magical world until you finally discover the awareness at the core of your being.

Big Lost River Fly Fishing: Access

To access the Big Lost River from Ketchum, Idaho, head east on Trail Creek Road. Very scenic road. Once you drop over Trail Creek pass, you will travel about 15 miles to the North Fork of the Big Lost River on the left. About 5 miles further down the road, the East Fork of the Big Lost River enters from the Cooper Basin area. If you want to drive all the way to Mackay Reservoir, there might be some big rainbows in the tailwater below it.

Big Lost River Fly Fishing: Advice

I can’t offer much advice on how or where to fish the Big Lost River and its many tributaries. I’m not a local and I only camped and fished in the area for about two weeks. However, I can recommend exploring this unique watershed and fly fishing certain sections of it that look good to you. In sum, I just got lost on the Big Lost River and found some mind-blowing camping and fly fishing. So maybe, that’s what you should do, too.

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Gary Alan

After a long career in the publishing industry, Gary Alan left his corporate job to pursue his next adventures in life as a blogger, writer, investor, fly fisherman, hiker, and traveler. He is the author of the adventure fiction book, 'Big Thunder-Hearted River'.