Finally fishing again...

After a couple months full of overtime at work, I finally had a break. Left early from work, Carlynn was working, Mel had a cross country meet in Walla Walla, so I headed out to find some trout. 

Left Richland with sun and 76°F, arrived at the river with light rain and 56°F. Good thing I threw in long sleeves. Once on the river, the psycho was surprisingly mostly ignored, with the fish keyed in on a small dry that was hatching. Switched to a small EHC and found a lot more, missing two or three to every one to hand. Mostly small, but they got bigger through the afternoon. Fished through a familiar stretch and had 36 to hand in a couple of hours. About halfway through, the hatch ended and it was back to the PPCG. 

Back to the car, I turned towards home, but with an hour left until dark, a favorite stretch called to me as I drove by. So back into the water, where the psycho promptly dredged up a couple dozen more without moving more than 20 ft upstream. I love this stream. Better size here, many 9" to 11". Quite a few more came to hand, before the waning light led me back to the car. 

Driving home into a beautiful sunset, I let out a sigh and started thinking about my next trip.

Fishing at Girls Camp

I was up at Girls Camp for a few days to help lead hikes, teach some map and compass work, and otherwise relax and have fun being silly. Friday morning, there were no more responsibilities and I was ready for a little fishing. Joined by Trevor Larson, I spent a couple hours in the morning exploring a bit more of Miriam Creek, the small tributary of the NF Tieton that I visited last Saturday. Trevor quickly picked up a couple tiny cutts below the bridge, and I found probably the same 9 1/2" cutt exactly in the same place under the bridge as last Saturday. Just as pretty today.

Nice cutt from under the bridge again

We continued upstream, fishing EHC or similar variants, just something that floats and is visible in the dark shadows under the trees. Usually only one fish in each likely hole. Mostly small, but the occasional larger one. Water was still ice cold, even at the end of July.

Trevor and some likely water in one of the few spots open to the sun

Trevor and another nice cutthroat 

Just before turning around to head back to camp, we came to the hole below. I offered it to Trevor, but he said with the overhanging alder on the left hand side and the log angling right across the middle of the hole that it was above his pay grade. So I back-handed, 3/4-side-armed the fly under the log and got a nice drift along the edge of the current. I watched a nice cutt quickly rise to the fly but he was gone before I could set. No more interest on subsequent casts, so I worked a few casts to the left, then returned to the main problem. Another tricky cast put the fly a couple feet under the log for an almost perfect drift. Trevor commented that you can't get much better than that, but still no love. Next cast was a foot farther under the log and another six inches under to the right, right at the edge of the fast current. I was about to say that you can get better when the fly disappeared in a splash. This time I got the hook in him and brought a beautiful 9 1/2" cutthroat to hand. That is the kind of catch that makes the memories of small-stream fishing much bigger than the fish!

Beautiful fish!

Triathlon (Kind Of) for Two New Streams

Back up near White Pass hiking a couple more trails in advance of Girls Camp next week. Threw my bike in the RAV with plans to ride up the closed NF Tieton road after the hiking, about 2.7 miles to a closed campground with three tributary streams along the way and another try a the NF Tieton at the end (twice before I have fished it and haven't seen a fish). So 7 miles of hiking, 5.5 miles of riding, throw in some wading in place of the swim (sometimes it is both), and it is a fisherman's triathlon! 

Another nice hike in solitude, had time to capture a few more nice wildflowers.

Avalanche Lily

Hooked spur violet

The everywhere present lupine

It was early evening when I started my ride. First stop, Hell Creek. Had fish come up to the EHC, but were either two fast, two small to hook, or just aborting the take at the last minute. Tried different sizes, dropper nymph, still no luck. A fish in most decent holes, but unable to hook even one of them. Not even close. Never felt one of them. This was an aptly named stream! In desperation, my mind thought back to the fly of our youth - the renegade. It was all we ever fished in a stream, and still is just about the only fly Rob fishes. Tie it on, drop it in, immediately hook this small cutt. Stream #131, then immediately back to the bike to continue upriver to Miriam Creek.

Hell Creek cutt - finally!

A short ride up the road and I arrived at Miriam Creek and some likely looking water.

Miriam Creek

I dropped down and tossed the renegade into the hole under the bridge. A good sized shape darted up and I missed the take. A little further down, in the hole, another take, with a solid set this time. A beautiful cutt, good size for this small stream. It was getting late, with another couple miles to ride, and upstream looked to be dropping quickly off the mountainside with little in the way of holes, so tally Stream #132 and continue on hoping for a couple more streams. But it was not to be.

Beautiful Miriam Creek cutthroat

Scatter Creek runs right adjacent to the old campground. Small stream, very sterile looking, no really good holes.Tried hard for a bit, but found no sign of fish life. So on to the NF Tieton, a beautiful stream tinged green by the glacier which feeds it. Third time I have tried fishing it, third time no fish. Well, this could be a success because I might have seen a dark shape briefly dart at the trailing fly of a double nymph, but I'm not sure. Can't figure this stream out.

As shadows were slowly rising up the hillside above the stream, I hopped on the bike and enjoyed the mostly downhill ride. Spooked a couple rabbits, a mom elk and her calf, and a coyote, all using the abandoned road as a trail. I'm happy to share it with them. Another great day!

Stream #130!

It is getting harder to find new streams in the areas I normally frequent, but I managed another one today while out pre-hiking trails for the Church girls camp that I will be helping with in a couple of weeks. It was a beautiful day to be out hiking, and since there was a chance fishing could be involved, I stopped by McDs for a #8 on the way out of town. I had two trails to hike, about 8 miles total, and since I was by myself, I could stop and take as much time as I wanted for pictures.

American Twinflower

Small-flowered nemophila

Pipsissewa

Goat Rocks from Round Mountain

Tieton valley (Clear Lake and Rimrock Lake) from Round Mountain

But as fun as hiking and photography is, it still can't beat fishing. While looking at the maps the night before, I noticed a little blue line that crossed the back road back from Camp Zarahemla, with a FS road that crossed it a couple more times upstream. So after finishing my hiking for the day, I took the back road home and found this. Tied on a small Goddard caddis and started dipping. There was no casting on this stream, and generally there was no more than a few feet of leader out from the rod tip.

Small, Tieton tributary

It didn't take long to find a cutthroat about 3" long, then a few more in that size range. Finally, the monster of the stream came from where else, inside the culvert. I should have gone there first!

Pretty cutthroat from Stream #130

After having too much fun at this little creek trying to get the fly on the water and the fish that could barely fit the fly in their mouth on the hook, it was time to head for home. Of course I had the obligatory stop on the Tieton, which was running quite milky and still a little fast. I found one small rainbow and another one flashed (unique in milky water, since the "flash" was a dark movement against the light water rather than the normal silvery flash against the darker water. One more stop on the Naches down below the town of Naches, where I found nothing more than a few small rainbows (they liked the psycho). There must be bigger fish in there, but I have yet to find them. Maybe next time.

Small Naches rainbow

Pre-Fourth-of-July Small Stream Fireworks

Tom texted me last Sunday - "Fishing this Friday?" So I gave the What-to-do-meter a spin, and it came up "Go Fishing" like it always does! This thing was the best present ever! Every fisherman should have one.

The What-to-Do Meter

We met at an undisclosed McD's for dual #8 meals (with OJ) as their doors were opening, then off through the back roads to one of our favorite haunts. As we approached the access point, we both let out a sigh of relief to see no other cars present. It would be a good day indeed! Little did we know how good.

We donned our rattlesnake chaps and pushed our way through the tall grass to the creek. Clear, not too low, and, as we slipped into the water, just cold enough. Tom started with the usual black woolly bugger and I tried a big, ugly black streamer, hoping a big brown would find it enticing. It didn't take long before Tom found fish. And it didn't take me long to switch to the usual small black bugger after he had three and I had nary a bump.

A nice little rainbow to start the day

A little nicer brown

Although nice fish, these were small for what we typically find in this stream. That would change at a grass bank at the head of a stretch of frog water. Tom laid out a perfect cast, drifting the bugger right against the grass, and was aptly rewarded as a monstrous brown took the fly and ran. 

Big brown fighting in the current

A few minutes later, this beautiful, 20-inch brown was in the net. That is a fish to make the day, yet the day was just starting.

Beautiful brown

We continued up the stream, finding a fish here and there, many "small" at 12 to 14 inches, quite a few 15 to 17 inches, like the one below. Fish were scattered, and some likely water turned out no fish, but as we moved up, we realized that we were having pretty good numbers for a typical day here, though we were still hoping for another big boy.

Typical nice rainbow - very fat and stuffed full of October caddis (case and all)

Passing by some frog water, we noted a number of rises in water we normally walked by, and stopped to toss our flies in. Tom had one take down, but no other action. Noting the rises to a small, spent mayfly, I tied a #18 CGPPN below the bugger, but still no love, so we moved up to where the water was again flowing. We found a few more fish, but ever since the rises, Tom was itching to tie on the hopper, and he finally gave in as we approached a nice riffle that drops into deeper water a a bend in the stream. 

I was first up in the hole, and as we approached a large fish rose at the head of the riffle right above the drop off. Tom asked if he could take this one, as he had just put on the dry. I was about to tell him to move on up ahead of me so he could get a good cast, when from over my shoulder 60 or 70 feet of fly line lay out in the current with the hopper floating down just above where the rise had been. My next thought was to tell Tom he'd never get the hook set with all that line out, and just then his fly disappeared in a large splash. Hook set, short run, and a jump clean out of the water displayed a beautiful rainbow that was easily 20 inches or more. Then the hook came flying back at Tom as it was thrown from the fish's mouth. Ecstacy and agony, all in a few seconds. Another couple casts, and he found a smaller, 15-inch rainbow to take away a bit of the sting. Then, it was my turn, and tossing the bugger to the far bank at the head of the hole,  I was promptly rewarded by a take down. Another very large fish, equal to the one Tom lost. Another brief fight, with the fish rolling several times near the surface before throwing the hook. The pains of fishing barbless!

Moving up, we came to a corner hole where Tom claims to always pull a fish or two out with streamers. After fishing the dry and bugger with no love, he tied on an articulated something and let it swing in the current. Strike! Nothing. Strike! Another miss. Strike! The fly was gone. That was a big one! He tied on another, let it dangle practically at his feet, then a hard strike and a football of a rainbow came flying out of the water. This 18-inch bow was finally brought to hand. Tom found two more fish, a little smaller, out of the same run.

Tom's reward for dangling a streamer

It was just before noon, and it had been a very good day already. Moving up from the corner, I picked up a couple more on the bugger, Then, running the indicator right through the edge of the grass along the bank of another small run, I had a take down followed by the sight of a very large fish. This was big enough to make me really nervous about losing it, made all the worse when I saw that it was hooked on the size 18 psycho, not the larger bugger. In the small stream and clear water, the fight was in full view. Each time the fish got near enough for Tom to reach out with the net, it would take off back upstream. Finally, I got the head turned towards Tom and guided it into the net. Barely! Tom said he wasn't sure it would fit! Reading off the net scale, it stretched from 12 on one side to 11 on the other, a full 23" inches and enormously fat. My biggest ever from this stream.

Almost too big for the net

Beautiful rainbow

Tom decided he had had enough of hoppers for the day and returned to nymphing. The nymphs continued to produce, though none so large as the beast I had landed. We reached a stretch that was new to us, and decided to continue fishing up. We found a few more fish, including another brown in the 20-inch plus range that took my fly ran towards the bank right in front of us, realized there was no undercut there, then took off upstream before slipping the hook. Oh, I'd like to have that one back! The new stretch added several miles to the day (up and back) without a huge payout in fishable water. Now we know to turn around at our normal turn around point. 

By the time we ran out of water, it was 5 pm, and we had a 5 mile walk back to the car. Luckily, we found a wax currant bush full of berries to give Tom the energy to make it back to the car. Well, almost back to the car. Tom was worn out from heavy exercising the previous day, so lay down and slept at the side of the road while I walked the last 2 1/2 miles and came back with the car. On the way back to civilization, we stopped at the sight of a badger right next to the road, who promptly faced us and stared us down while I tried (unsuccessfully) to get my camera out for a photo before he ran away. Nice end to a marvelous day. One of the best days every on this beautiful little stream.

One final lesson from the day. As I helped Tom pull off his rattlesnake chaps, I felt something bunched up at the bottom. The hard plastic inserts on the sides of his chaps were shattered and collected in a pile at the bottom. He had been fearlessly leading out all day through the rattlesnake infested grass with no more protection than the canvas fabric for the sides of his legs. So before you go tromping through head high grass full of rattlesnakes, secure in your safety because of the protective gear you are wearing, make sure your gear is functional. We only saw three snake skins, no live ones today. Good for Tom that we didn't run into any.

Stocking up for some extra energy for the long walk back

Solstice Celebration (wtihout Rob)

My Friday off fell nearly adjacent to the summer solstice, which of course meant it was time to fish until dark. With Rob off in Peru fishing at the equivalent of the top of Mt. Rainier, I found an old friend, Trevor Larson, to accompany me. He had not fly-fished in years, and is one of the few who actually followed through and called me on an offer to take him sometime.

We left in the evening, after Trevor had finished looking in peoples' mouths and I had completed nearly a full day of honey-dos, helpful when you are going to be gone until long after dark. We climbed the steep road through the rolling wheat fields to the astounding elevation of 1,660 feet (take that, Rob!), where we found a beautiful and familiar stream. I had both my 3-weights rigged and ready with the CGPPN -what else to use? Me with a size 12 and 16, Trevor with a size 14; I thought it wise not to give a newbie two flies, that's asking for trouble.

I slipped into the water, and had a couple fish to hand in the time it took Trevor to follow down the rocks and make it over to me. Yup, I love this place. With a little coaching, he soon was getting reasonable dead drifts, handling the slack in the line as it came towards him on the upstream casts, and finding fish like this one, his first of the day.

Trevor's first trout after a long hiatus from fly-fishing

As usual, the upstream pace was excruciatingly slow, because there were so many fish. I'd want to move up to the next run, but how could you when you were still having a fish nearly every cast? The trout were even prettier than I remembered in the past, many with deep red color. 

Beautifully colored rainbow

Size was good, probably more than half in the 8" to 11" range, with the assortment of flyers and chesters, and the occasional one pushing 12". As usual, fish were often in the shallow water at the edge of the moving water as well as in fast water lest than a foot deep. We also found lots in the few deeper pools. In one little pool at the side of a fast run, I had two doubles along with maybe 20 fish or more, while Trevor kept pulling them out of the riffle on the other side of the fast water. I told him he couldn't use the excuse that I caught twice as many fish as he did because I didn't let him use two flies!

I finally left that little pool when the fish started getting small, and it was approaching nightfall. There was still some good water upstream to hit. We continued up, finding fish everywhere they were supposed to be, and a few where you wouldn't think they would be. Trevor sat in one little fast riffle and probably caught 20 fish before things slowed down. As it became too dark to see, Trevor climbed out to the path, but I needed just a couple more in a beautiful run we had just reached. With the sunglasses, I couldn't see anything on the water, so I cast blindly, and found two more nice ones stripping the indicator in, then stumbled to shore through the now black water which hid all the rocks underneath. Walking back to the car, we both had big smiles. It took us 2 1/2 hours to fish through a quarter mile of stream, and between us we probably found 150 fish. How could you not have a big smile! Happy summer solstice!

Another of many beautiful fish

Trout at 13,060 feet

Beautiful stream with incredible backdrop!

Mary and I are on assignment in Peru as humanitarian missionaries for 18 months.  This is our first time living in the southern hemisphere.  Our assignment has taken us past a couple of streams that definitely looked “fishy” but our schedules are usually packed and it isn’t possible to do much beyond our assignments.

However, as luck, fate, inspiration, or star alignment would have it, we returned this week to a place where we have travelled before, passing through a place that definitely looked fishy, but this time we were the ones in charge so could have a little more control of the schedule.  I had prearranged with our driver for a stop at the outlet stream of a high Andean lake (they call them Lagunas) that was said to have trout in it.  Our elevation was  13,060 feet above sea level so my fly casting was much better than normal since there was less air resistance.

Laguna Querococha--elevation 13,060 feet above sea level

I fished in the middle stretch between the highway crossing and the lake outlet.  Click the link below to go to a map showing the location:

This is where I found the trout! :-)

Mary and I were traveling with a video crew who will be doing some filming of the school project we’ve been working on and a formal delivery ceremony scheduled for Thursday in the main town square.  I let our fellow travelers know there would be a little break before we hit the summit of the Andes (tunnel through the top is at 14,816 feet above sea level!) on our trip.  On the road to Huacaybamba (our third trip to the remote province) I stopped this time to fish the river below Laguna Querococha.  We finally weren’t travelling in the dark, or with the Area Welfare Manager who wouldn’t be able to understand why one would stop in the middle of nowhere to throw a hook with some feathers tied on it into a river to try to catch a fish just to let it go again.

I tied on a size 10 Renegade (my favorite go-to fly back home) with a size 16 green Copper John dropper.  First run a fish made a swipe at the Renegade soon after it landed on the water, which I missed.  Reflexes have slowed from lack of use, and maybe altitude had something to do with it.  I know my brothers would say nothing new there.  Anyway finally got the first small rainbow to hand, and as shown it is literally “to hand” but hey, it is my first southern hemisphere trout.  For that matter, I don’t know if any Merrill Boy has landed a trout in the southern hemisphere, so take that Rick and Tom!

First trout from South America on the fly

After the hour of “rest” was up I had brought 17 trout to hand, all rainbows, and fished about 125 yards of stream.  About one-third were on the Renegade and the rest were on the green Copper John.  I broke off the dropper on one nice fish so changed to 3x tippet to avoid a repeat of that.  It isn’t easy to get replacement flies here so I have to be much more careful than usual.  Thankfully the fish weren’t leader-shy. The largest was 26 centimeters (got to love that metric system—makes them sound even bigger!) but it slipped away before I got a photo.  I thought it was awesome that the trout here liked the Renegade.  Glad I brought a few.  Hope I can let a few more fish use them as “chew toys” before we return to the States in 2017.  I think I also set a new family record for highest elevation trout catching.

They loved the green Copper John

We then continued on our journey to Huacaybama, which lies about another 7 hours down the road (very rough dirt road—think Indiana Jones ride at Disney).  We crossed the Marañon River (principal tributary of the Amazon) just before ascending up to Huacaybamba.  A few weeks ago we were in Pucallpa on assignment along the Ucayayli River which joins the Marañon at Nauta to form the Amazon.  In two weeks we will be evaluating a project in Nauta so will be where the Amazon actually becomes the Amazon.  This mission is not only an opportunity for service, but we are getting to see some amazing things.  I hope to wet a fly again here in Peru—maybe in the Amazon for piranha or some other exotic fish.  Today was lots of fun and Mary, our driver, and the videographers were very kind to indulge me.

The coloration was different on every single trout

Huacaybamba is way out and there is very little light pollution so the stars are brilliant.  The sky has been cloudless since we arrived.  Tonight from the Plaza de Armas (main town square) we looked up at the star studded sky and saw the Southern Cross.  Really cool—especially after catching Southern Hemisphere Rainbow Trout, which I’ll refer to from now on as the “Southern Trucha”!

An interesting geologic sight--known as the "Map of Peru". The cleft in the hillside has vegetation that provides a darker shade in contrast to the hillside. Pull out your atlas (or look on Google Maps) and you will see that this does in fact roughly approximate the shape of the country of Peru.   This was on the hillside above the stream where I fished.