Wyoming's Last Big Secret: Fly Fishing the Green River Below Fontenelle Dam

If you're searching for trophy trout fly fishing in Wyoming, the Green River below Fontenelle Dam may be the most overlooked tailwater in the American West — and that's exactly why it's worth your attention.  

LISTEN to the Podcast

The River Nobody Talks About

Picture the middle of Wyoming's Red Desert. Sagebrush as far as you can see. Wind that makes you question your life choices. And then — cutting right through all of it — a lush, cold, impossibly green ribbon of water loaded with some of the biggest trout in the lower 48.

That's the Green River below Fontenelle Dam.

I sat down with Van Beacham — fourth-generation fly fisherman, author of Fly Fisher's Guide to New Mexico, and owner of The Solitary Angler — to talk about a river he's been quietly guiding since the 1980s. A river he describes, without a hint of exaggeration, as "perhaps the last major undiscovered trophy trout stream in the lower 48."

That's a bold claim. And Van can back it up

Numbers That Don't Lie

Here's the thing about the Green River below Fontenelle Dam — it's not a numbers river. On a big day, you might land 10–12 fish. Compare that to the famous tailwaters where clients expect 30-fish days, and a lot of anglers would pass.

That would be a mistake.

"The average biomass is three and three quarter pounds," Van told me. "It averages the largest fish of any rivers in the lower 48, except for possibly the Missouri."

Rainbows. Browns. Bonneville cutthroats. Snake River cutthroats. Fish pushing 28, 29 inches. Fish that, as Van puts it, a "good day" means 5–8 landed — and a "fantastic day" means double digits of fish that would be the catch of a lifetime anywhere else.

Why You've Never Heard of It

So why isn't this river on every fly fishing travel shortlist?  That's the part of this conversation that genuinely surprised me.  It's a combination of factors — the outfitter permit system limits pressure, the wind keeps casual anglers away, and then there's something else entirely. Something almost refreshingly old-school.

"We don't do any promotions on the refuge," Van said. "No videos. No TV shows. Nothing like that. It's kind of a private agreement between us."  The guides who know this river have made a quiet pact to keep it quiet. And it's worked for decades.

A Place That Earns Its Fish

This isn't a put-and-take river where you show up, cast a wooly bugger, and pose for Instagram. The Green River below Fontenelle Dam demands something from you.  The wind is relentless. The summer weeds will humble you. And the fish — while enormous — are selective enough to make a 20-year veteran feel like a beginner.

Van's nymphing rig alone — a crayfish pattern on 0X tippet, a San Juan worm, and a small sow bug — tells you everything about the mindset this river requires. Heavy. Deliberate. Precise.  "It's not a numbers river," he reminded me. "If we had the numbers of people fishing that river that fish on Flaming Gorge, it would destroy it immediately."

The Full Story

There's a lot more to this conversation than I can fit in a blog post — Van's private water club on Hams Fork and Smiths Fork, the Oregon Trail crossings still visible along the banks, Jim Bridger's fort just north of the dam, and a story about a fish he mistook for a beaver that I'm still thinking about.

You need to hear this one.

🎧 Listen to the full episode of The Destination Angler Podcast wherever you get your podcasts — or stream it right here.

LISTEN to the Podcast