Launching a float-trip is an expectant and important moment. You wonder how the trip will go, if the trout will be active. It is also the last chance to check all your tackle and equipment. (Edwin A. Bauer photo)
March 09, 2026
By Erwin A. Bauer
Editor's note: Flyfisherman.com will periodically be posting articles written and published before the Internet, from the Fly Fisherman magazine print archives. The wit and wisdom from legendary fly-fishing writers like Ernest Schwiebert, Gary LaFontaine, Lefty Kreh, Robert Traver, Dave Whitlock, Al Caucci & Bob Nastasi, Vince Marinaro, Doug Swisher & Carl Richards, Nick Lyons, and many more deserve a second life. These articles are reprinted here exactly as published in their day and may contain information, philosophies, or language that reveals a different time and age. This should be used for historical purposes only.
This article originally appeared in the Season Opener 1978 issue of Fly Fisherman magazine. Click here for a PDF of the print version of "Floating."
On a golden morning last October, Peggy and I joined Jay and Kathy Buchner on a rich and memorable adventure.
The Buchners are our neighbors, young husband-and-wife fly-fishing guides of Jackson Hole who invited us to share an end-of-summer postman's holiday. The four of us spent the entire day leisurely drifting down the Snake River in northwestern Wyoming.
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Now the Snake is not the best trout river originating in the Rocky Mountains–trout grow larger and more numerous elsewhere–and even at its best, the fishing is slower than during an average day on such streams as the Yellowstone or Big Hole or Henrys Fork. But the Snake does flow through some of the most magnificent country in America, and few fishermen mind the slightly longer interval between rises.
From the launching site above Deadman's Bar to our take-out at Moose, there was always something to fascinate us. We floated close past beavers frantically building lodges in which to spend the bitter months ahead. Bald eagles watched us unalarmed from traditional perches along the banks. One lonely robin still lingered. Merganser and goldeneye ducks flushed as we suddenly rounded bends. We glided above schools of whitefish that were clearly visible in the low, clear water of autumn. Enough native cutthroats inhaled Muddlers and Muskrat Nymphs to keep us busy. One which Kathy hooked weighed more than three pounds; she released it with all the rest.
But maybe the most pleasant time of all was the hour or so we paused for lunch and to stretch our legs. On a gravel bar criss-crossed with fresh bear tracks, we built a modest fire of sun-dried driftwood and cooked hamburgers over it.
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A pot of coffee brewed on the coals. Somebody produced a sack of chocolate bars. Then on again downstream. It was a bittersweet moment when that float trip ended, but the memory remained warm throughout one of the snowiest winters Wyoming has ever seen. Now it is float trip time again.
There simply is no better, more rewarding way to explore the large, wild-trout rivers of the West than by float-tripping. You reach lonely places far beyond where the bankside foot paths end. You cast into deep, green runs, pools and pockets that wader-bound anglers can never reach. The soft dip of paddles into the current replaces the crunch of felt soles on loose rock. You drift down and away into the best possible kind of quiet, fly fisherman's world.
Today the float-trip standby is the inflatable rubber raft. They are lightweight, safe, almost puncture-proof and they provide fairly comfortable casting platforms. (Edwin A. Bauer photo) The Mackenzie boat, originally used mainly on Pacific coastal rivers, has made an appearance on several Rocky Mountain streams. Many guides prefer the Mackenzie and will use nothing else. (Edwin A. Bauer photo) Other float-trip sights include the indomitable Muddler Minnow–a favorite of float-fishing anglers. (Edwin A. Bauer photo) Other float-trip sights include the acrobatic rainbow trout–another favorite of float-fishing anglers. (Edwin A. Bauer photo) Floating. (Edwin A. Bauer photo) Float-fishing is not all flies, boats and tackle. The angler shares the river with many forms of life, and he cannot help but be aware of such things as scarlet paintbrush beside a granite boulder (does a heavy trout wait beneath?) or the mirror image in placid water of an isolated rock on which foxtail grass grows. (Edwin A. Bauer photo) But there are larger, more noticeable sights as well–such as this Shiras moose. Fortunately it is a friendly giant, except for certain cows with calves, who require plenty of room in passing. Bulls are usually never troublesome until the fall rut begins. (Erwin A. Bauer photo) (Erwin A. Bauer photo) One point is certain: few angling opportunities can match the experience of float-fishing our Western trout rivers. (Erwin A. Bauer photo) These rivers give freely of their natural beauty and stillness, and they invite an escape back into a wilderness America when all rivers were sweet and the air was pure. And there is no better way to savor these rivers and to fish for their trout than by float-fishing. (Erwin A. Bauer photo) This article originally appeared in the Season Opener 1978 issue of Fly Fisherman magazine.
