Wyoming holds many “secret” adventure destinations. One of those lies on her western border and travels along it approximately 60 miles. I’m fortunate to have been there and walked along its banks and tested my fly fishing skills along it banks.
Then again, maybe it’s more accurate to say I’ve tested my fly casting skills there. I guess it depends on whether you consider it fishing if you don’t catch anything. On the other hand, I did get to take in the view of some of the most gorgeous scenery in the state. Trust me when I say it’s worth the trip for that alone.
Now, before I move on, let me clarify a couple of things in those first 2 paragraphs. First of all, “secret” is kind of a stretch. For the most part, Google will give you the location of pretty much anything you want to search for these days. That’s a given. Second, “worth the trip” had a little more significance on my last trip there, because the road was rougher than your average tourist would enjoy. If you’re like me, that was just another reason to go.
According to the U.S. Forest Service, that’s no longer the case. The Greys River Road is now one of the most popular in the state, and the area offers “numerous opportunities for fishing, kayaking, camping, hiking, OHV riding and horseback riding”. Access is easy, and there are both free campgrounds and reasonably-priced sites with water and restrooms.
So, progress has left its mark. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, depending on your perspective. In the long run, it’s good for the economy of the state and the enjoyment of visitors. Still, there are always going to be a handful of codgers like myself, who “remember when”. In my case, there’s no resentment directed toward the changes or the new crowd. In fact, I hope to take advantage of that access myself, once we’ve moved back and settled in.
Now, about that last trip. It was also, coincidentally, the first trip. Janie and I were fishing upstream from a free campground we’d chosen. The hike was easy, though accessing the water meant working our way through a wide band of high, dense willows along the bank. Once we’d “worked” a spot, we made our way back through them or taken advantage of a gap, to get back to the tall meadow grass for easier walking.
I really can’t overstate the beauty of the area. The river begins high in the surrounding mountains and meanders northward to its confluence with the Snake River, where the waters take a short run to Palisades Reservoir. The meadows are at the foot of mountains covered with pines and dotted with stands of aspen.
It also comes with clean, cool mountain air that wafts down in soft breezes. Needless to say, that can change drastically when Mother Nature sees fit. She had chosen to bless us that day. There was another blessing she had planned for us along that route, and I nearly missed it.
I was leading the way on a stretch between casting sessions, when Janie called quietly. I stopped and looked back to see her motioning carefully for me to loop wide back to where she was standing. When I got there, she pointed to the camera around my neck, then toward a spot in the grass. A couple of cautious steps forward revealed something few people get the chance to see, much less photograph.
Mule deer does will often leave their new fawns in cover like that we were in for long periods, while they feed in the trees nearby. There’s more reason for this than just teaching the young ones to lie still. Fawns don’t have the characteristic scent of adult deer, so by separating herself, The mother is actually lowering the likelihood of the youngster being located by predators. She’s also keeping a close eye on the young’un.
How the little ones know to stay put is anybody’s guess, but I kind of like to think it’s a lot like a human child/parent relationship. When Mom says, “Stay right here, and don’t move a muscle”, our instincts tell us to do just that. Whether that’s the case or not, the fawn’s mom gets the sustenance she needs and has a clear view of the meadow so any signs of danger to her offspring is easily spotted with her incredible vision. Let’s not forget her olfactory prowess, either.
Her keen senses constantly at work, Mom keeps watch and returns to feed the little one two or three times during a typical day. This routine may last for 12 hours or so.
By now, you’ve figured out that what I had literally almost stepped on as I passed by it was a tiny fawn, curled up tightly in the tall grass. It was right there in front of me and my lens. We both moved slowly, knowing that we were eyes on us, and not wanting to cause any more alarm than we already had. I snapped a few photos and we backed off, then made a wide arc around the spot as we left it behind.
Keeping our impact low on the natural environment was always an important part of outings for Janie and me, and decades after we parted ways, it’s still a top priority for me. There aren’t many opportunities for Pam and I to commune with nature these days; our time is occupied by preparing to move back to Wyoming. Rest assured, we’ll be prioritizing it again when the time comes again.
Meanwhile, I’m happy to say that the few signs of human impact we found while following the river back then were few. There are few things I find as depressing as cans and other trash left in natural settings. The Greys River banks were as pristine as we could have hoped for. I do hope that’s the case now.
One other highlight of that day was the entertainment provided, albeit unintentionally, by some adult neighbors in the campground. Let’s just say that some of the smoke coming from their site had a very recognizable odor. They were an extremely cheerful bunch, but not overly loud, and they were among the first to go quiet after dark. No harm, no foul, was our outlook.
Finally, for those readers who are already in the area, or plan to be, let me say that I agree wholeheartedly with the U.S. Forest Service’s description of this river as the epitome of a Wyoming trout stream. I’d add only that, based on my past experience, it could easily become a favorite of yours.
The Greys River Road, a.k.a. Forest Road 10138, begins in the town of Alpine. It starts in an easterly direction and turns to the south to follow the river, switching banks occasionally, at crossings and a bridge. You can travel it all the way to Trinity Basin Divide.
I should also mention that, although the road has been improved, a little online research shows many people still complain about roughness. If you go, don’t expect a fast trip. Then again, why not slow down and enjoy the views? There are campgrounds all along the route, so just pick a spot.
As for fishing, Snake River Cutthroat Trout are native and predominant. You’ll find some stocked Browns, and, I believe, Brookies as well, but the Cutthroats have maintained their presence without the need for stocking. Expect swift water, and good luck!
I’ll leave my “directions” there. Do a little research, then just go. Explore. And save us a spot!
