TFO Elevare vs. Wyoming’s Cutties

By Amy Bo Visser

Day 5: Ladies Fly Fishing World Championships – Idaho, USA

Day 5 of the Ladies Fly Fishing World Championships kicks off in classic competition style: a 5am wake-up, gear check, a below-average coffee, and a bagel that barely qualifies as breakfast. We shuffle into the hotel lobby, meet our group, and pile into the minibus—quiet, focused, and buzzing with last-day nerves and excitement.

The two-hour drive from Idaho to Wyoming is a scenic dream. We trace the Snake River, winding past misty forests and sleepy hills. At Palisades Reservoir, we veer left and follow the Grey’s River deep into the mountains. And let me tell you—this river is straight out of a fly fisher’s fantasy. Crystal-clear water, pine-lined banks, wild deer tiptoeing through the brush. When the river deepens, it glows a surreal blue-green. It’s fed by snowmelt and stays icy cold year-round, home to a gem of a species: the Wyoming Cutthroat Trout. These beauties flaunt deep orange throat slashes and bodies speckled with fine black spots.

I arrive at my beat and start setting up— rods, waders, boots. From a hilltop vantage point, I can see the upper half of my beat. And just like a scene from a nature documentary, a deer crosses the river in front of me.

My beat has structure: a fast-water shelf dropping off near the bank, and a dreamy log jam with a slow-moving hole at the top. Tempting as it is to start there, my team manager nudges me toward the bottom of the beat, tucked into the pine forest. Good call.
As the sun kisses the water, I spot a rise on the far bank. A hatch! Small white moths have the trout sipping at the surface. I rig up a euro dry-dropper setup on my TFO Elevare — the 10ft6 fast action will help me reach the far bank with accuracy. I tie on a size 14 Rockerka, a dense CDC fly that mimics caddis and other surface snacks.

Wading in about a third of the way across, I am able to cast the flies into the zone where the fish are rising and the trout oblige! I manage to land 10 fish in 30 minutes, average size being about 30cm. So much fun!
When the rise slows, I switch tactics. Mountain Whitefish—grayling’s distant cousin—hug the riverbed and can hold in numbers. The Elevare’s sensitivity is perfect for detecting their subtle takes. I pair it with my Cortland Tri-color indicator line to cut through the forest glare. A few small whitefish keep the scorecard ticking.

Now it’s time to hit the prime water. I move up to the shelf and deeper hole. No risers, but I cover the back of the hole with my dry-dropper rig. Five more eager Cutties (a cute nick name for the Cut Throat Trout) take the dry. These fish are feisty in the fast and cold water, and the Elevare handles them like a dream. I pause to soak it all in. The deer from earlier reappears, gracefully moving through the trees ahead of me. It’s one of those moments that makes you forget you’re in a competition.

With an hour left, I approach the log jam—carefully. The silt here is delicate, and stirring it could ruin the fishing. I stick to the far left, casting into promising pockets. A few more trout rise to the dry, and once hooked, I steer them away from the prime water to make the most of this spot.

Then—drama. A big Cuttie rises… and misses! My heart skips. I keep working the shelf, even submerging my rig to tempt a few bonus whitefish. I know that big fish is still lurking near the log. I cast close. Watch. Wait. Eat! On the nymph! The fight is on. The Elevare’s backbone shines here, helping me steer the fish away from snags and stumps. After a thrilling battle, I land a stunner—45cm of pure Cutthroat glory.

31 fish in three hours. First place for the session. Sixth overall in the championship. I’m buzzing with gratitude, pride, so grateful for all the support and excitement for whatever comes next.