Gold in Them Thar Hills! (Golden Trout, that is!)

Well, it's been a while since the O.G. Merrill Boy Blogger has posted.  Finally I have something worthy of posting.

Golden Trout!!

After several fruitless hikes to apparently sterile lakes, I took my good luck charm (Elisabeth) with me.  After a rather strenuous hike, we got to the suspect lake.  There are not many lakes in Washington State with Golden Trout in them.  I was 0 for 4 until this point.

It was beautiful and sunny - not exactly ideal conditions to be casting a dry fly into gin clear waters.  Especially with my casting skill level.

After spooking a few fish with some splashy casts, I convinced this little beauty to come up and sip an Elk Hair Caddis off the surface.  A quick photo op and a gentle release and this guy was back into the clean and clear waters.  There is a reason the scientific name of Golden Trout is Oncorhynchus aguabonita.  Aguabonita is Spanish for "Pretty Water".  This lake fits the bill.  

One thing I love about trout.  They almost always live in beautiful places.  Granted, we've caught our share standing on a culvert or in some hideously ugly places (Sorry, Moses Lake).  But trout love pretty places.

And fortunately, so do Elisabeth and I!

A Hopper of a Good Day

At the end of a day of fishing foam hoppers, this is what you like to see:

A well-loved hopper

Teeth marks all over the foam show that it spent time in the mouth of many fish, and so it was today. The most amazing day of hopper fishing I think I have ever had.

It started with a text from Tom and Rob Thursday night with pictures of a couple fish they'd caught that day. Friday was scheduled off for me, but I was planning on working some overtime. The text immediately started me thinking about an alternate plan.

My sweet wife readily agreed with my What-to-Do spinner, so I was up at 4:15 am the next morning on my way to the stream. 

In contrast to last week, it was only 50°F when I arrived and there were no other cars present. A perfect morning. Fished the Morrish hopper, pink body, all day, with the occasional switch to a bugger in some of the deeper runs. Up until the early afternoon, it was a decent day on this stream. About six fish to hand, all on the hopper, the largest a fat 18 or 19-inch rainbow, and a couple nice ones lost. I saw my hopper disappear into the mouth of one in the 20-ish range, but the hook didn't stick.

Then something happened and the next hour was crazy. Huge rainbows started attacking the hopper with reckless abandon from their hiding places under the grassy bank. 

No need for the hopper to be floating right in the grass. If it was within a foot of the clump of grass on the bank, a fish would dart out, its back out of the water, and pounce on the fly. Over and over and over.

In a 150 yard stretch of bank, I had I think ten fish, eight of them 20 inches and outrageously fat. 

The magic bank

It was so silly I lost count, but I have those I took the pics of plus the one that ran a circle around me and broke off plus the one that broke off when I was trying to get the fly unhooked from the net plus the one that got off when I was trying to net it plus the one I left with a fly in its mouth when I popped too hard on the hook set when it exploded on the fly (amazingly only happened once). You get the picture of how crazy it was. 

I fished a little more after that amazing hour, found a few more smallish fish, and decided to call it a day. A hopper of a good day!

 

An Amaya-zing Day

Today was a return to my happy place, The Creek, but for the first time with Amaya, who married our son Brian last year.  You may remember Amaya from when I went along in 2018 on their fishing date, the first time she'd been fishing since childhood and the first time ever fishing with an artificial fly.

(See:  http://fishingwiththemerrillboys.blogspot.com/2018/08/along-for-fishing-date-at-9000-feet.html?m=0 

Monday, August 27, 2018 Along for a fishing date at 9,000 feet)

We chose a stretch of the creek where a fire burned through a few years ago and had removed much of the surrounding (and overhanging) brush so it was a little more open, at least in some places.  I dropped my fly in where I was getting ready to step in to start, and was promptly rewarded with an average rainbow who immediately attacked the Renegade I'd tied on to start.  Good omen.

There were still some burnt tree remnants overhanging where we stepped into the creek so Brian and I fished the first few yards until we got to where Amaya could cast without hitting those trees. We each had a fish before it was Amaya's turn.  Within the first few casts she had a fish to the fly.  However, it was "faster than I ever would have expected" according to her and it was a missed fish.  The first, but definitely not the last of the day--for any of us!

Since we take turns casting, changing after each catches a fish, it was definitely in my and Brian's interest for Amaya to successfully hook and land one so we could get back to fishing, so we did all we could to help her get into the rhythm.  She did land her first one pretty quickly--still in the first hole where she started, and Brian and I each managed to find fish and get it back to Amaya for a repeat performance, which she executed admirably well.

So it went through the afternoon, back and forth between us, enjoying the beautiful stream and the beautiful fish.  Avoiding the stinging nettle with our arms and tree branches with our flies.  Taking the occasional extra casts when one of us snagged up forward and had to be in the "penalty box" while the others executed the "power play" until we got to the point of hookup and released the snagged fly and resumed our "turn".  

Occasionally, when the grass was overhanging or encroaching and there was less than a foot of water even available, Amaya would say, "I think that's too narrow for me to cast the fly.  You go ahead."  Music to my ears.  Good reason we love that girl!  Brian and I had quite a few in those tough to cast spots so when we got to a nice open run, our consciences got the best of us and we let Amaya cast first.  She had several come to her fly and finally hooked a nice rainbow.

Our consciences still said we'd caught way too many fish in the "narrow" spaces, so we let her keep fishing.  As she gradually worked her way upstream, casting left to the grassy bank, center in the current, right along the watercress, she kept finding another fish, then another, until finally she had landed eight in that short stretch.

Our consciences eased at this point and Brian and I each cast into the next long quiet stretch and landed several before we got up to where there was a little more current and Amaya could cast more easily. I asked her what time Mary said dinner would be.  Amaya replied that she said 4:30 was dinner time.  A quick look at my watch told me it would be just shy of 5:00 to get home if we left right them.  I said we'd better each catch one more, then head home.

Amaya went first and she promptly hooked and landed another one.  Next was my turn.  Nothing where normally we find several.  Up a little higher near some branches dragging in the I current found one hiding there who nosed out and sipped my fly.  Okay Brian, your turn.  Cast, cast, cast.  Finally dangling it under water to where he can at least see some small ones near the bottom. Nope.

Not to be denied, Brian pushed through the brush to the next run and promptly found his final fish.  NOW we could go.  

Once we got back to the car we had some ice water in our Nalgene bottles that we'd brought with us.  Nice and cool and wet.  Brian commented to Amaya, "Imagine it's this hot and you start and 5:00 in the morning with Tom and finally around noon you get back to the car and there's maybe some warm water you can drink while you drive to another spot to go fishing."  We let Amaya know we like her so well, we even bring ice water for her enjoyment as well as our own.

Finding Triple-Digit Trout

Nope, the title isn't referring to numbers of fish. That would be on my home stream where I have caught triple digit numbers in an evening. Today it was a different stream with larger trout and triple digit was in reference to the air temperature, which was 84°F when we started in the morning and 103°F by the time we finished in the afternoon. With Tom's and my birthday the first two days in August, it will sometimes be a little hot when we get together for our birthday bash.

Hoping to get some teeth marks in the new batch of Morrish hoppers

We arrived early morning to three vehicles where we normally start. No one was in sight, but it was obvious these were fisherman, so we headed to another access and found a few nice fish.

Tom with a nice bow from a shallow but undercut grassy bank

Reaching the end of the most fishable water, we decided to return to the original start point and hope we'd be able to find some fish behind those who had gone out earlier. We did. The fishing wasn't spectacular, but we found enough to keep it interesting. My poor skills rubbed off on Tom today. As he was drifting a bugger, he left it sitting out of the current while looking where to toss his next cast. I saw his indicator go down as he pulled in a little line to get set for the cast and thought it sure looked like he had a fish. A couple seconds later, he looked down, saw the indicator down, and was surprised by the presence of this nice rainbow at the end of his line.

Tom's fish that hooked itself

Tom's good skills also rubbed off on me. I had drifted the hopper past a clump of overhanging grass when Tom called out that there was one following it. I immediately spotted the fish, watched it slowly follow the fly downstream and nose up to it until the fly disappeared from sight. A little lift of the rod and the fight was on with this nice brown. It took a Tom-level of patience and calmness to not pull the fly away too early. 

This guy was hiding under the little grass clump right above my head in the picture

Talking to a couple guys we ran into who had been there the day before, they said there had been a group fishing it all week. With the high temps and that much pressure in the previous days, we were happy to find the fish that we did in the triple-digits. Another successful birthday bash for Rick and Tom.

In pursuit of the little guys

Having finished the Yakima float with the brothers by 10 am, I was left with a decision - head straight home, or head home by way of a small mountain stream. Yup, you guessed which route I chose. In the realm of some of our "on-the-way-to" trips, this was just a mild detour that only doubled the 90 minute drive home, but a detour well worth the time for the solitude of a small mountain stream and the beauty of westslope cutthroat trout. For me, big trout are fun, but there's something about small streams with their small fish that holds a special place in my heart.

Monkeyflower along one of the few flat stretches of this little mountain stream

I'd visited this stream before, finding reasonable numbers of small cutts, so I figured I'd try a couple different sections to see what I could find. Same as my last visit, I found beautiful cutthroats eager to take a dry as it floated by. The size ranged from a few inches up to about 8 inches. It's so fun to watch them rise to the fly in the crystal clear water.

A very good sized cutthroat for this little stream

Same as my last visit, I didn't find large numbers of fish, which seems to be limited by the lack of pools or substantial riffles in this fast falling stream. When I finally climbed out, the view upstream was white water as far as I could see, which it had been for much of the stretch I had fished. But when you found a nice little pool, you would almost always find a fish or two. You can't complain about an afternoon like that!

Tom Remembers Why He Bought a Drift Boat...

After Rob's guided trip on the Yakima with his son-in-law Brad, Brad decided he'd like to go more often and volunteered to get the flat tire fixed on Tom's drift boat trailer (it has been flat for years). With the tire fixed, we decided to make a Merrill boys trip to fish Friday evening and Saturday morning. We can call it Rob's birthday celebration.

We met at Red's to pick up a few flies and arrange for spotting the vehicle at the takeout and were on the river a little after 5 pm. Tom and I immediately questioned the wisdom of letting someone with double vision row first when a short time after the launch Rob took us straight over a good sized boulder just under the surface. However, that was the only mishap and we soon were catching fish and all was forgiven (next time we'll let him row the last turn when it is so dark you can't see the boulders anyway).

It was typical Yakima fishing, tossing big bugs (Chubby Chernobyls) close to the grass banks with a stone dropper about 12 inches below. Fairly consistent action throughout the evening, with numerous 10 to 14 inch rainbows and a few in the 18 to 20 inch range. Rotating the rowing duties, we all managed to find at least one of the big guys before getting off the river at about it's-so-dark-I-hope-we-don't-miss-the-ramp o'clock.

After a short night at a motel in Ellensburg, we were on the water again a little after 5 am, and found similar action as the evening before throughout the morning float. Little guys to keep it interesting while waiting for the big one. You never know how they're going to hit. Rick's 19.5-inch rainbow on Friday hit with an explosive splash, which was good because he was fishing blind with the fly directly in the reflected glare of the evening sun. He set the hook by sound. Rob, on the other hand, had an 18-inch rainbow that took the fly with nothing more than a little dimple as it drifted right next to some overhanging brush. Rick, who was rowing, watched the fly quietly disappear without a splash and was surprised when Rob said he had a nice one. The take looked like one of the little ones we'd been catching.

We all caught nice fish, but Rob owned the morning, catching at least three that were over 18 inches. A great little trip to bring the brothers together. Maybe now with the flat tire on the boat trailer fixed we might get together like this a little more often...

Bradzilla Rocks the Rainbows

Brad and I headed to Ellensburg Wednesday night and planned to fish the following two mornings with Shan from Red's Fly Shop, with whom we've fished numerous times.  (Yes, that Shan--see our Alaska Adventures from September 2019 and other previous entries for more details.)  After a short night's sleep we got up to the alarm at 3:45am to get ready, grab some breakfast at McDonald's drive-thru, and meet Shan at Red's Fly Shop for our 4:30am start.

July 2

It started somewhat slowly as we began the canyon float--Brad had to wait until his second cast to hook a fish.  We fished large dry stonefly patterns in the slowly increasing light.  Brad's fly was larger than mine.  Punching it in close to the banks and being rewarded with--my fly floating over the top, apparently appearing like an appetizer, and then Brad's larger fly coming up second and being eaten by the fish.  What's with that?  Front end of the boat usually gets more strikes--which is why Brad took pity on me and let me fish in front.

I finally got a good solid fish and after a nice fight was able to get a photo, then release him.  Brad may be catching more, but I found one that was photo worthy.

A beautiful Yakima River rainbow

Brad didn't wait long until he too found a photo worthy fish that tried to attack his fly as it floated by and missed.  Brad, ever the one of steely nerves, saw that the fish missed and hadn't eaten the fly and just kept the fly floating in the drift along the seam line in the current.  We watched with amazement as the trout circled back around, came downstream and sucked in the fly, at which point Brad set the hook and the chase was on!  

Brad's biggest Yakima rainbow ever
(up to that point)

We added a stonefly dropper as the day brightened and found fish on both the dry and dropper.  We continued to enjoy the beauty of the canyon--lots of eagles, deer, and other assorted wildlife--and found fish throughout.  Finished after floating a few hours and had a great morning!   What would tomorrow bring?

July 3

We arose to a brisk outside temperature of 48 degrees so it was going to start a little cool.  We met again at Red's at 4:30am.  (I don't know if Shan sleeps.)  We were concerned that the low overnight temperatures might slow down fishing if it reduced insect activity.  Brad started with the stonefly dry/dropper setup we'd had yesterday and I had a single dry fly to cast.  Once again, Brad deferred the front position to me, and I tossed the fly toward the shore as we began the float.  It floated all of about 20 feet until it was slurped in by a nice rainbow.  A great start to the day!  

We had pretty steady action on both the dry and the dropper.  If my timestamp is correct on the camera, Brad landed this photo worthy fish at 5:21am.  He looks pretty awake for that time of the morning.

#1 for Brad

Okay, now to just find me another photo worthy fish.  We each caught more rainbows, on both the dry and dropper, with neither fly really prevailing in preferences.  About an hour later, Brad hooked another nice trout.  Into the net and . . . yet another fish for photo.

Yet another

Okay, now to really just find me another photo worthy fish.  We both continued to catch more rainbows, on both the dry and dropper, again with neither fly really predominating.  About ninety minutes later, Brad hooked yet another nice trout.  Into the net and . . . another fish for photo.  I'm sensing a theme here that wasn't what I was expecting. What about the guy in the front getting more fish because they see the fly first?  What about letting the old guy get the nice fish?  Not to be today I guess, but I was happy with the action and pleased to be able to have these two mornings with my son-in-law.

Who's idea was this trip anyway?
Bradzilla rocked the rainbows!

As always, a wonderful guided float with Shan, ever courteous, knowledgeable, and skilled. Great friends, great river, great fish.  Happy Independence Day!