Seminoe Resevoir and the Miracle Mile

Seminoe Reservoir and the Miracle Mile are two places that are definitely out of the way. Located about 35 miles north of Sinclair, Wyoming, off Interstate 80 you really have to want to go there and so they both are places seldom seen by most people. Renita had never been to Seminoe Reservoir or the Miracle Mile and so we decided to go there do a little sightseeing, maybe cast a fly or two, and most definitely look for more rocks!
So we loaded up the picnic basket and the dog and headed out, accompanied by the every present Wyoming wind and I had mixed feelings about the whole trip. See I had fished Seminoe for six years competing in walleye tournaments and while we had won it and the team of the year it was one of the hardest and most challenging places to fish I have ever been,(The first year we fished it we caught seven walleyes in 6 days and five of those were the first day prefishing. The year we won it we caught four walleye but two of them were 31 inches long!)

The drive from Sinclair, north to Seminoe was really pleasant. Antelope and deer grazed along the road, even though hunting season was on and the river called to me to stop and cast a wet fly and so the thirty miles passed quickly. I pointed out the huge sand dunes, which really are a part of the sand dune field that stretches all across central Wyoming. It is missed by Interstate 80 and so most tourists have no idea of the size of the desert in Wyoming.

Driving into the North Red Hills campground we looked at the pull throughs and they most definitely were large enough for our fifth wheel and so we snapped some images and put it on our list of places for future stays. Continuing on we climbed a steep hill and pulled over at the dam overlook, where we were rewarded with the promised view of the dam far below.
The road quickly deteriorated and we bounced down about as washboard a road as you could find anywhere. Renita pointed out a sign that said the road did not meet public standards which was really a disclaimer by the powers that be that they didn't want to maintain the road.
We reached the bottom and then passed up and over the Seminoe Mountain, finally reaching the area called the Miracle Mile.
Now the Miracle Mile is really a five mile stretch of the North Platte river that runs between Kortes and Pathfinder reservoirs and got its name from the blue water quality fishing for brown, rainbow and cutthroat trout. Well know by any fly fisherman its one of those places where the trout population reached over five thousand fish per mile and so I couldn't get my fly rod out fast enough, knowing that the fish would jump all over my flies!

Renita and Molly took off up the hill, looking for rocks as I made my first cast and then another. Nothing happened? Maybe if I tossed over there or perhaps there and I congratulated myself on the roll casts I made as the two flies and strike indicator made drift after drift.
The fish seemed to have developed a severe case of lockjaw and so I moved up stream. Again I cast and re cast, but the only excitement was the snake that moved next to my foot. Screaming a bit, I don't like unknown snakes next to my foot, I called to Renita to warn her of the reptiles presence but she told me that she had heard my initial yelp. I hadn't realized that I had shouted that loud and it was really just as scary for the snake as it crawled into the tall grass as I carefully skirted around it.
Rejoining Renita and Molly, Renita showed me the green rocks she had collected, jade perhaps, and I decided that the fish were being too snobbish for me to waste time fishing and so I started to rock hound.
However no jade boulders or cobbles or even pebbles jumped out and so we got back in the truck to drive back to the lake for lunch.

I turned down the four wheel drive road to Sunshine Beach and besides some seagulls we had the area to ourselves. Renita found some fossil shells along the beach and I showed her some sandstone ripple marks from an ancient ocean beach.
We relaxed and strolled along the shore and it was really nice to be able to show Renita the sights of a place where I had fished so hard, a place filled with its own beauty, and a wild sandy place so typical Wyoming.
The drive back to Rawlins went quickly and the local rock shop was open so of course we had to stop and admire the jade. I was pleased that I hadn't brought much money and so we left with three small slices that demanded we buy them. Clear skies