CLAY HENRY: Don’t you love it when a vacation plan works?

Vacation planning for a fishing trip is tricky. Water conditions can change rapidly. Seldom do the hatches hit exactly the same and snow melts out west are random because of the inability to know when a hot spell is going to hit.

So in late April when I figured my plans for my usual July fly fishing trip to Colorado and Wyoming, nothing is for sure. Some years it can be hot even at 9,500 feet and that means the snow melt has come and gone. The little feeder streams are trickles and the trout have vanished.

You might be dealing with a cabin or condo with no air conditioning and daytime temps of 85. It was even warmer last year when Jean Ann and I arrived at Snowmass Village in the Colorado mountains. You rely on a box fan and pull for a late afternoon thunderstorm to set the stage for a cool night with the windows open.

Then, there are some years everything hits perfectly. Our 2024 trip will go down as one of those.

Rabbit Ears Pass is on the horizon.

Not one thing went wrong, although my fishing guide did change rivers to take advantage of perfect conditions on the Miracle Mile of the North Platte near Casper, Wyoming.

It was an 11-day trip for me, with nights in six different beds, only one night in a motel. There were three days of fishing, one golf outing and one hike.

There were two nights in Autumn Weaver’s remote cabin in North Park, a massive cattle and hay operation in north central Colorado that most have never heard about. It’s about 30 miles east of Steamboat Springs, but on the other side of the Continental Divide. It’s within 10 miles of the camp site for my elk hunt the last two falls.

Autumn Weaver cabin in Colorado mountains

Autumn, a native Arkansan, is a retired teacher now living in Atlanta. Her dad built that cabin for recreation 30 years ago. Tucked just under Buffalo Pass and within a few hundred yards of the national forest, there are daily chances to see elk, moose and bear. A neighbor has a sign that notes you lost your welcome if you voted for the re-introduction of wolves in the state. There is a presumption that wolves could be there, too.

Jean Ann and I felt welcome as soon as we entered her cabin. There’s a Razorback ball cap hanging near the door. Autumn invited us to stay there after reading on the Hawgs Illustrated forums that I hunted nearby.

It’s a beautiful setting, a perfect cabin with three bedrooms. The great room includes two wonderful couches with cozy blankets everywhere. Rabbit Ears Pass is just to the south. It’s a unique rock formation that stands out for miles. We saw two moose maybe five miles from the cabin on the way to the highway. One was sloshing through the ditch just a few feet from the road.

Then there was the brown bear that dashed across the road as we arrived at the Newcomb Creek trail head. Jean Ann and I hiked the creek on an hour adventure. The bear had been pillaging an adjacent campground, just vacated after the Fourth of July weekend. We did our hike anyway, making sure we were noisy, probably the reason we did not see elk.

Jean Ann relaxing on cabin the the Colorado mountains.

We did a dinner in Walden, about 20 miles away. The chicken fried steak at River Rock Café is legendary. I’ve had it dozens of times over 20 years and it was the same as always.

There was also a day trip to Steamboat Springs. We lucked into the Farmer’s Market with blocks of craft booths. Jean Ann was sad that we gobbled up 90 minutes with a great lunch in an Irish pub. I found a vintage automatic fly reel in an antique store.

Fraser wood-burning fireplace in Colorado mountain cabin.

Daytime highs were perfect at both Autumn’s cabin and the Snowmass Village ski condo gifted to us later by Fayetteville buddy Bill Eldridge. Temps were falling into the 60s well before dusk. It got to 32 both nights at Buffalo Pass. We built a fire both nights in a remarkably efficient Fraser wood heating stove in the middle of the cabin. At bedtime, we used the electric blanket, with a fan blowing near a cracked window.

The Snowmass stay at Eldridge’s neat condo for the second straight year included two days on the Frying Pan, a gold medal fly fishing stream I’ve fished maybe 15 times. I don’t need a guide anymore, but I have hired Critter from Taylor Creek Fly Shop the last two years. I catch trout without him, but I know I’ve got a better chance at a trophy with his eyes on familiar waters.

We stumbled into Critter the night after he guided me. He was sitting three stools down at the bar at the Tipsy Trout in Basalt. He slid in next to Jean Ann. Quickly, she figured out why I like fishing with him. He’s got a big personality. Well, after all, he’s a Critter. A true Cajun from Lafayette, La., he’s also got a French name, but it serves no purpose.

I like fishing with Critter because he asked to see my tiny Arkansas tailwater midges, then figured out how to incorporate them into his rig. We have caught trout with them from the Frying Pan despite everyone in the fly shop shaking their head side to side when I pulled them out of my pocket. They said, “Bead head midges don’t work here.” Yes, they do, said Critter. I mailed him three dozen when I got home. They have become his secret weapon. He’s got others of his own, why I ask for him.

After I fished solo the second day, I was in my truck when I passed a bend with Critter standing with two clients. He pointed to the lady in the couple and hollered, “She caught a rainbow with your fly this long!” The distance between his hands was well over 20 inches. That night he sent a photo of client Rachel Ross of Fort Lauderdale, Fla., with a giant rainbow.

Critter and Clay in Colorado mountains near a trout stream.

Among the many highlights on the Snowmass stay was a day trip over Independence Pass, just east of Aspen. We spent a few hours at Leadville where I found some tiny ear rings for Jean Ann. I presented her four pair — made by Zuni Indians — as a surprise when we went back over the pass. She was impressed that I now know she only wears the tiny stuff. She put them on. After almost 50 years, I’m starting to figure her out. I’m not sure who was happier, her or me.

Jean Ann flew in for six nights. Because of her work at Vacation Bible School at Arkana Baptist Church, it was a firm out on July 11. I stayed four more days, spending two nights with the Gage family in Loveland. Jeremiah, like a son to me the last 20 years, is the best cook I know. His meals were unbelievable both nights. Local chefs come to his house to dine and all respect his skill.

Among the highlights for the big meal was Ginger’s Italian bread made from a starter, smoked wings with a blue cheese sauce, Louisiana sausage wrapped in a pork roll, cream corn that was roasted on the cobb and smoked pork chops for the main course. It’s pretty cool to sip on a Ginger cocktail in the open kitchen as Jeremiah prepares a complex and wonderful meal.

It had been 100 degrees that afternoon, but as soon as the sun dropped behind the mountains we moved to the back deck for another cocktail. Great stories were told, some from fishing trips when I could hike a 1,500-foot vertical climb. Jeremiah won’t take me on those anymore. He says he likes how I move at 70, but doesn’t want to carry me out of a canyon.

Clay Henry with wife Jean Ann in Leadville, Colo.

Wyatt and I rose early the next day for a golf outing, nine holes at a par three course. A month shy of 8, Wyatt was frustrated that he hit his driver too far most of the holes. He hit it anyway and he chipped back to the greens. It was hilarious. Why not try the 5-iron? There was not a good answer, but after about five holes, I stopped asking.

All of that was just the trip’s appetizer. It was a buildup for a float trip with guide Fly Graham, a native of Wyoming now working out of St. Peter’s Fly Shop in Fort Collins. I drove an hour south to pick up Jim Daniels east of the Denver airport. Another old Arky friend, Jim has a working ranch with horses and a hay field. We made a five-hour drive to Casper, then floated the Miracle Mile of the North Platte.

The Mile is one of the best big trout fisheries of the lower 48 states. There are hardly any trout there less than 18 inches. You may not catch many, but your chances of hooking a two-foot trout are good. But you better be good with a stout fly rod and understand the drag on your reel. Landing them tests knots and skills. You know it’s a giant when a veteran elite guide like Fly gets excited.

Fly, AKA Michael, has guided me for the last four summers. He had asked to take us to another stretch of the North Platte, near Saratoga three hours away, but low flows and high water temps canceled that idea. We love the Mile and didn’t argue about the change of plans.

The night before the fishing trip was a great meal at a famous local steakhouse, The Silver Fox. Fly had touted it to us last year and asked him to join us for our return trip. It was another wonderful meal, although a slight step below what you get at the Gage pad.

As we walked through the parking lot afterwards, Fly set the ground rules for the next morning. We’d meet at the Walmart parking lot, then follow him and his drift boat on the 50-mile trip — most on dirt roads — past Pathfinder Reservoir. The focus would be to watch out for pronghorn antelope on the open range. They are not gazelles, like one of Fly’s client claimed.

There were great chances at big trout on the Mile. Both Jim and I hooked giants that shot out of the water, then up the river out of our pool. Fly can’t row up a riffle and it’s up to you to manage the line peeling off your reel. I never turned my monster and it was into my backing when it came off. Jim did a little better, but his biggest trout came unbuttoned as Fly took a hand off an oar to reach for the net. It seemed the battle was about over.

Clay Henry with brown trout caught on the Miracle Mile in Wyoming

There were big fish to the net, but the only one Fly decided to measure was my wide shouldered brown that went 21 inches. Most of the big fish caught in the Mile are rainbows, so that big brown is a trophy. Fly got a good picture.

That made the long drive back — on another 50-mile stretch of dirt road — to Jim’s so much more fun, at least for me. I’m sure Jim had a bigger fish on earlier in the day. It could have easily been like last year when Jim let Fly hold a grand two foot rainbow for a great photo, the fish of the day.

It was a great way to end one of the most perfect vacations ever, as close to plan as anyone could imagine. Jean Ann got to see some of my favorite areas, then I got to hang out with some of my best friends and fish great streams.

The next day I made the 14-hour drive home with hardly a hiccup. It was eventful only because of intense heat. I was amazed my truck gauges rose to 103 as I rolled across all of Kansas. It didn’t matter. I’d taken advantage of great weather for 11 days. Sometimes a vacation plan can work perfectly.