Fishing Sand Creek

Halfway between Spearfish, SD and Sundance, WY is a town called Beulah. And there is a small stream running through the town. Although a very unimposing body, this stream is the only and undoubtedly the finest trout water in all of extreme Northwest Wyoming. This accessible stream is known as Sand Creek, and is where I spent last weekend.
Driving past the first few access sites to the campground, I set quickly set up camp, then commenced to investigate, explore and fish. The water is clear this time of year, maybe a bit too clear, for the fish dart away as I approached. First I fished upstream in every likely pool and riffle, but the only action was where the water cascades over rocks and logs. I suppose because the fish can’t see as well through the rushing water. After I figured it out, it was quite easy to pull one 10-12 inch brown trout from each of the holes I encountered, but only one fish from each hole. After a few hours the sky began to darken, so I returned to camp. The rain and hail, lightning and wind followed me and I arrive at camp soaked as a muskrat. As the squall continued, I changed into dry clothes and made soup and tea. Before long the storm passed and I was back to fishing, this time the two holes close to camp when I pulled a another trout from each of the holes, but once again only one despite what I tried and how I fished. Then, as evening approached, I walked and fished a bit downstream admiring the landscape more than fishing.
Back at camp, I fixed a meal, ate, and drank a few glasses of Chevas before turning in for the evening. The rain and hail with thunder and lightning returned and I was happy to be out of the weather.
The next morning I fished the same holes, but without any success. So I drove upstream to see what was there. Not far from the campground the stream flows through heavily posted private land, then enters a public area known as Ranch A where there is an historic fish hatchery. Not far past there the creek goes east and the road goes south. Checking the map, I noticed a road that crosses over into the Spearfish Canyon, where I know of a couple places where fish can be caught. So I decided to follow the road. After 30 miles I ran into snow deep enough to bottom out the car and was still at least 15 questionable miles from pavement. Being prudent, I turned back and took the turnoff to Moskee Road back to Interstate 90. After another 25 miles I was back to Sand Creek, a few miles downstream from the campground where I knew of a place thick with fish. Now, I have fished this particular hole before, and just as before, no matter what I did, no fish would pay attention to me. I counted at least 20 fish over 16 inches in one school in the clear-as-clean-glass water beneath a little cliff, but no fly or lure made any difference. After and hour and quite frustrated, I gave up and walked back up the hill to the car. As I walked a few grasshoppers began to fly, so I caught a half dozen and returned to the stream. I figured this could not fail. What trout would ever pass up a grasshopper? So I baited a hook and let it drift by the fish. I could not believe, they ignored a live struggling grasshopper. Could they see the hook, the line, the rod? I then just threw the hoppers in and let them drift on their own. Again, no response. If they don’t take a hopper, what chance does a dry fly have? As this is both a mystery and a challenge. I will return.