|Whey duh f*^k are the trout?|
Our season started in late May, when we happened onto a spot we came to know as the aquarium. This was not a lake I had any expectations for, but we caught several 16- to 18-inch cutthroat trout, under a dense canopy of pine trees, that were eager to run down a big pink scud. Stir in a few nice-sized grayling and it was easy to note that this felt a bit like a harbinger.
|I see that smile...|
- Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Bloom's Parachute Flying Ant. Ants. Hoppers. Beetles. Ants. Rubber-legged ants. Scuds. Ants.
- Get flarping wacky. Use that old chewed-up, lead-wrap-showing hackle-dangling Bugger. Strip a foam hopper on sinking line. Jig flies. (More on these techniques coming in the January-February issue of American Angler.)
- If at first you don't succeed... hike around the lake. Wait. These fish and fisheries are as moody as they come. Multi-mile scrambles on top of Jeep-trail journeys rarely allow for much time, but do your best.
- Use ants on the end of your leader or tippet, which should be connected to your fly line. Tie them on and cast them. Ants. Just so we're clear.
- The adventure is worth the effort. The post-hike beer-endorphin cocktail is also nice.
It wasn't all lifestyles of the fishy and fjellvant, though. This past weekend I hit six lakes in one afternoon, while waking and going to bed in my own bed. It felt a bit like Double Dare's obstacle course where I got to a lake and whacked a button and then ran on to the next. At those six lakes, I caught an entire fish. It turns out that these lakes, from 8,200 feet to 9,200 feet in the Pioneer Mountains, are still actively used for irrigation and get terribly de-watered by the end of summer.
|Yeah but it was a good fish.|