Heathen Fish with Heathen Gear...

Got a call from Kirk Morris, a past guest on the blog. Kirk is a good friend to have. He has a nice boat. He fishes a lot with his wife and kids. And when they are out of town, he sometimes calls friends and invites them to join him. So it was that I got a call inviting me to join him on a trip to the nearby Potholes Reservoir to chase smallmouth and largemouth bass. A great chance to learn a little more about warm water fishing, as he has spent a lot of time recently figuring it out and is a great instructor. 

I picked up an early morning #6 at McDs on the way to his house hoping its magic works for non-trout species. It does.

We were joined by another friend, Lance Rhoten, who is a dentist like Kirk. On the drive up they spent plenty of time talking about crowns and cleanings and other dental procedures, as well as various bass baits and rigs. Both are foreign languages to me. But the shout and whoop with each fish hooked and landed is a common language we all spoke, and there was plenty of shouting and whooping today.

We started out fishing above rockpiles near the face of the dam where smallmouth hang out. A dropshot with a rubber worm bait of some kind was the ticket. The smallies ranged from the typical under a pound to a couple nice ones about a pound and a half. 

A nice smallmouth to start the day

After getting the rust off our casting and setting skills, we headed uplake to the dunes, where the lake becomes a series of bays and channels as it wraps around the sand dunes that were present before the lake covered the dunes with water. The banks are largely clumps of short willows, mostly underwater now, but well away from the waterline later in the year as the water level in the reservoir drops. The willows provide an unending source of cover for the largemouth bass, which had recently completed their spring spawn.

My description of this fishing, besides FUN, was that in a way it was like flats fishing, cruising the shoreline of the inlets and bays, blind casting to the cover, carefully watching for bass to target. Once a fish was spotted, we would sight fish to them. Most of the largemouth were caught sight fishing, mostly on the dropshot rig. 

Note the willows in the background; the fish were mostly found in the open spaces between the willows

While the largemouth would often show interest in other baits tossed their way, they would usually leave them alone until a dropshot was tossed in front of them. Then the rubber worm would quickly disappear and the fight was on. Kirk was a champion of this technique, and rarely was there a bass that he didn't successfully entice in this way. 

Kirk with the largest of the day, just over three pounds I think

Lance and I both got in on the action too, and we ended the day with around a couple dozen largemouth to hand, most in the range of one and a half to two pounds. Together our five largest totaled somewhere around 11 pounds (Kirk has the best fishing toys, including a digital scale that tracks the weights). 

A nice largemouth, a little under two pounds

The most memorable fish of the day was at the end of an inlet where we spotted two nice largemouth cruising back and forth between small openings in the willows. A couple small willow branches blocked any cast into the only open water we could hope to reach, so I put the small-stream pendulum cast to work and swung the weight over the top of the branches and dropped the rubber bait into the open water behind. I shook the rubber worm to try to draw the attention of the fish, and we all watched as the larger of the two bass swam into the opening and slowly approached the bait. It had it nose right under the worm, then backed off. Some more shaking got its attention again and we watched in anticipation as it approached again, literally nosed the worm, then backed off and swam into the adjacent opening. More shaking, and the big guy (or gal) returned for the third time to our opening. I let the worm sit completely still this time, and the bass again nosed up to the bait. Then with no apparent movement of the fish, the worm disappeared as it was sucked into the fish's mouth. With a set and a shout, the water exploded as the bass in the range of two pounds started dancing around the small opening. It immediately dove into the adjacent willows, leaving my hook in a branch rather than his mouth. Disappointment at the loss, but getting that take was a lot of fun!

We stopped to pick up a few more smallmouth on our way back to end a great day of fishing. There really is no such thing as heathen fish or heathen gear. Catching fish of any kind with gear of any kind makes any day a great day! Thanks Kirk!

Fish, Flowers, and Features from the Ice Age Floods

Fish, flowers, and features from the Ice Age Floods, some of my favorite "f's" all on a beautiful, calm spring morning. The hike in starts at the head of a flood channel from the Ice Age Floods that scoured pathways across eastern Washington in the not so distant past.

A short and scenic hike leads to a beautiful little lake surrounded by basalt cliffs. The lake is the filled in plunge pool of a waterfall that was present for only a few days every several millenia as the cataclysmic floods overflowed the Quincy basin and dropped into the Columbia River below. My depth finder showed 110 feet deep just off the peninsula.

View from the top of the trail

Always good to see no wind on this lake

Started in the tube, fished some chironomids (Tom's chewy chironomid pattern, snowcone, in black with red wire and red with red wire, both caught fish), some trolling an olive leach. Caught some both ways (eleven straight months having caught a trout.).

Fishing with a view

The longest of the day, if only the body size matched the tail size

Mostly 13" to 16", some colored from spawning, some bright. Chironomids off the inlet peninsula, leech of the east side of the central peninsula, 8 to hand from the tube. After coming ashore, fished from the bank with the double chironomid, 6 and 7.5 ft down from the indicator, got about 18 more, then called it a day in the early afternoon when the wind started picking up. On the hike out, quite a few wildflowers to cap off the day!

yellow bells on the middle terrace shepherding the spring whitlow grass (little white flowers)

sagebrush buttercup

bulbiferous prairie star were growing thickly on the middle terrace

Another ditch keeps the streak alive

With nine straight months that Rick had brought a trout to hand, he and Tom made a late February exploration of another ditch in hopes of keeping the streak alive (all months of the streak have been posted on this blog except last May, which may have occurred shortly before the end of the short-lived, misguided ban by Governor Inslee on all outdoor activities including fishing at a private pond...maybe I'll post that trip sometime after the statute of limitations runs out).

We met not too early on a beautiful morning with enough wind to chill despite the sun, but never reaching the threatened gale, at least where we were fishing. We were exploring a ditch we knew held some very large fish from a couple online videos I had found, that while not sharing the location, had enough information that we were able to clearly ascertain where they were fishing. So we were on our way to explore and see what we could find. 

As we began the walk in, Tom dropped in his October caddis under an indicator and promptly landed a nice, fat rainbow. However, the early promise was not sustained other than a nice rainbow we saw that jumped clean out of the water and a couple flashes and a hit on the swing for Rick a while later. 

We covered a mile and a half of ditch with some decent water in places. Despite the worn trail and occasional piles of beer cans, there have to be more fish in there, but we couldn't figure it out today. Back at the truck, Tom found his very expensive net was missing, and decided to go back to look for it where he had squeezed through a bramble of Russian olives while I decided to check out a couple moving stretches upstream to search for just one trout to keep my streak alive. After finding nothing in the first two runs, I came to a third stretch of water and saw a large trout actively feeding in the water below. Climbing down the steep bank to the water's edge, I ran my fly through the stretch where the fish had been feeding but got no love for the black bugger or October caddis under the indicator. But just then the water upstream came alive with rises. A mayfly hatch had started and a number of smallish fish were actively feeding. I was just finishing tying on a 5x tippet and size 18 or 20 something or other dry when Tom arrived, having found his net. A toss upstream followed by a splash that made apparent the location of the fly I hadn't been able to locate after the cast landed was a missed opportunity. A few more casts watching more carefully for the tiny fly floating in the current, and this time I saw it disappear in a splash. The quick set was rewarded with this cute little rainbow that kept my streak alive. Ten straight months with a trout to hand...

We played around a little more in this run, where I missed a half dozen more on the dry and caught a couple more on a chironomid. Then we decided to call it a day. Not the big fish we'd hoped for, but any day outdoors fishing is a good day!

A good start to the new year at the big ditch

It's nice to have moving water that can produce nice trout in the winter months when the days are mild enough to get out. With a forecast of sun and a balmy high of 39°F, Rob and I agreed to meet at the big ditch to see what could be found a month after my successful Christmas Eve visit last month. Yup, it continues to produce. 

I tied up some October caddis nymphs that had been doing well here for Tom on a past trip and both Rob and I fished these most of the day.

In the early morning with temps just above freezing, Rob promptly broke one off in the 20-inch plus size. Although that would be the biggest fish we saw that day, we still found nice trout. 

We found them here and there, most in the 14 to 17 inch range, lively strong. 

With water temp right about 42°F when we started, they may be a little slower to move to a fly, although by afternoon as we were getting ready to leave, a hatch of little mayflies came out. A bunch of little ones were splashing in the foam line of a large eddy below me, so I tied on a size 20 dry, missed a few, then finally brought a little 12-incher to hand. Dry flies in January is pretty cool. Put the nymph back on and dredged up the largest of the day, this beautiful 17-18 incher.

A great day fishing with Rob before he heads back to the warmer south lands of St George. About a dozen fish between the two of us. Can't ask for much more in January!

Happy Birthday, Dad

Fourth Christmas Eve without Dad. I decided to celebrate his birthday in a way I know he'd approve of. Just me, my flyrod, and a long stretch of clear, flowing water. Oh, and a few nice rainbows for good measure. Hope he was able to take a break from whatever he's doing on the other side to see them tail-dancing across the water. Love you, Dad!

 

Another Successful Black Fishday

The Governor may have ordered us to avoid Thanksgiving gatherings to reduce the spread of Covid-19, but luckily he didn't order outdoor recreation closed down as he did earlier in the year (I think we would have become conscientious objectors if that had happened). In the great outdoors social distancing was of no concern as we had a mile and a half of stream to ourselves. 

Tom and I met at the Big Ditch to see if we could repeat the magic of last year, this time with Brad and his dad Jeff joining us. My drive was in sunshine until entering ice fog the last few miles, but Tom and the others (driving in separate vehicles for separate households) had fog and icy roads their whole drive, a typical indicator of good things to come. And that indicator held true yet again.

With good roads I arrived before Tom and the others, and like the good brother I am, immediately headed to the stream to get a head start on the fishing where I quickly found a bright 17-inch bow swinging a black bead-head bugger (the fly and method that found the most fish today).

Tom and the others soon arrived and we began working our way upstream searching for more. And the same as last year, we found a good number of large, feisty rainbows.  

Brad and Jeff had been lagging behind (not necessarily a bad thing since the fish Tom caught above was found in water I had already fished through), but it's always nice to be fishing fresh water. So we set them up in a run where we found several fish last year, Tom gave some instruction on how to swing through the run, then we headed upstream to some fresh water of our own. We shortly heard some excited shouting coming up to us from downstream and said it sounds like they found one. Sure enough, Jeff had swung up a nice rainbow (the refs threw a flag on the picture for holding, but Jeff looked so happy I just had to photoshop the penalty out of the pic and post it).

A happy face

Just like last year, we found fish scattered all along the way. Tom and I each caught several over 20".

Tom had the largest at just under 23" (escaped before a photo could be taken, but here is another nice one he found).

We also found quite a few "little guys" in the 15 to 18 inch range. All healthy strong fish, many long and acrobatic runs. The black bugger swung was largely the ticket, although Tom also found several nymphing a jig-head October caddis. Another successful Black Fishday in the books!

If Tom had my wicked fish catching skills, he would have had a picture of his 23-incher...

Golden, But Not the Trout, and Stream #142

Rick and his daughter Sarah made a quick overnight backpack trip to the Chelan-Sawtooth mountains to look for gold. Not the trout, but the annual display of color by the larch trees found in a narrow habitat range in the North Cascades in Washington. 

This deciduous conifer turns bright yellow in early fall putting on a beautiful show if early snows don't make trails and camping unpleasant, if not impassible. The weather cooperated this year and gifted us two mild, beautiful days for the trip. 

This was primarily a daddy-daughter photography trip, but since we were camping at an alpine lake with trout, the trusty Fenwick pack rod from my days as a Boy Scout forty years ago had to come along with the cast-a-bubble. We arrived to the lake in early afternoon with a bit of a breeze putting a chop on the lake. 

After camp was set up, Sarah saw a couple fish jumping as she was down at the lake taking pictures. I was already getting my rod ready to see if we could add a fish to our dinner menu. I started with the trusty brown hackle yellow (which I recently learned is actually called "the professor"). The fish were no longer jumping, and none were visible, so I started blind casting. About the third cast, there was a big splash behind the bubble and a fish was on. Surprisingly stout for a fish in a lake at 7200 feet, I got it right in front of me where it splashed and twisted its way off the hook. In the range of 13" or 14" that would have made a nice complement to dinner. Working my way along the shore, I had a few more strikes, but nothing hooked. Switched to a yellow wooly bugger and promptly caught this beautiful 12-inch cutthroat, that became a tasty dinner cooked in foil on the coals a few minutes later.

Not spectacular action in the few minutes that I fished, but I'd forgotten how much fun it is to fish in beautiful locations like these high lakes. After a beautiful morning taking photos, we packed up and headed back to the trailhead, where exhausted as I was, I found enough energy to add stream #142 to my tally, jumping out of the car for a few minutes to pick up a little rainbow before turning for home.

Definitely going to try to spend some more time in the mountains next summer. Photos and fish, a good combination!