Since Dad is no longer able to negotiate the slippery, angled basalt boulders that line the bottom of our beautiful little creek, Rob and I decided to pay a visit so we could let Dad know if there were still fish there (spoiler alert - there are). Tom was unable to accompany us (something about a graduation party at his house this afternoon - we told Elisabeth he would for sure be back by 3:30, since it started at 4:00, but she wanted help or something like that) and kindly loaned us The Beast to negotiate the somewhat rough road to our Shang-ri-la.
We rigged up our renegades and dropped into the stream. It always seems to run the same level, no matter the time of year, although the dead plant material trapped in the trees several feet up is a testament that it sometimes floods with an incredible volume of water for the small size of the stream. The floods of last winter have cleared things out somewhat and seem to have cleaned up the silt that seemed to have been accumulating in places. We immediately found fish. Many of them. Beautiful, wild redband rainbows, ranging from 6 to 10 inches in length. We may have found a couple that pushed 11 inches.
We stopped counting at a couple dozen. In one hole, we landed 20. At another small run, Rob and I alternated catching up to about 13, then I snagged in the grass (unintentionally) and was able to pull some grass out of the way (intentionally), opening up the top of the channel to Rob, who pulled another 5 or 6 out of the now accessible run. We found fish throughout, and while most were concentrated in the normal deeper runs, we consistently pulled some out of small pockets in the stretches where it runs shallow. That was good to see, as it has been years since we consistently saw fish in these areas.