It's Good When It's Good

     Oh Baby do I love me some hopper action.  We found ourselves at an undisclosed location Sunday in the middle of a full on feeding frenzy.  It was the trout vs. the grasshoppers and although there are more hoppers than trout, I would say the trout had the upper hand.  Of course we were also in the mix and managed to fool a fair number of trout ourselves. 
     Things were slow until about noon when the banks erupted with jumping fish.  The trout had laid in wait long enough and it was then that they started their attack.  It was all a person could do to stay focused on the hopper connected to their line while swirls and acrobatic fish threatened to pull their attention away.  I had forgotten the thrill of hopper fishing, especially as intense as this was. It seems I spend so much time fishing spots where this doesn't happen that I forget that sometimes fish are easy to catch when you're at the right place at the right time.      
     My dad, mom, Caitlin and myself virtually had this area to ourselves.  We joined up Bob from Sierra Anglers Fly Shop and his buddy and I can say that we all had a super good time.  I feel comfortable estimating our total caught and released for the day at around 100 fish.  So remember, when the hoppers are happening you better get out on the water. Until next time, see you on the hill.

  

My Independent Independence day

      There's nothing like celebrating our country's independence with a weekend over the pass.  My trip almost got put on hold when one of our "regular" late June snow storms came through and closed the pass during the week.  Luckily the 100 degree weather took care of that problem.  Still amazes me how we can get snow and hit 100 in the same week. 
     Friday afternoon found Thomas, Daniel and I on a quick trip to the bass pond to try the evening top water bite.  Only a few cooperated, but the anticipation of the explosion of water and fish at that point where the water meets the sky makes it all worth it and keeps your mind fixated at that point indefinitely.  After the hike out I had a decision to make.  Turn left for home to get some sleep or turn right and knock a couple hours off the drive for the morning.  I turned right and my Independent Independence weekend continued.
    After a night sleeping next to the corrals in my truck found me up early and the first person at Kennedy Meadows for breakfast.  Later in the day I would be very happy that I stopped because my next meal wouldn't come until late that evening.  I had a beautiful morning drive over the pass as the sun started to peak up behind the eastern mountains and shine it's rays on the snow covered tops of the Sierras.  I really enjoy the pass without heavy traffic.  It allows you to take your time and enjoy the scenery, maybe even stop for a picture or two. As I came down the pass I stared longingly at the spot where I will back pack later in the year.  The rivers are still to high at this point for exploring places that most certainly are off color and blown out. At this point I was still unsure where I would be fishing for the day, but with the float tube in tow I was leaning towards the reservoir or high country lake.  I stopped by the local sporting goods outfit and this confirmed my choice for the reservoir.
     By 8 o'clock I was kicking out through the weeds in hopes of a visit from that big brown I am always hoping for.  Keep in mind that this was supposed to be a quick little trip.  I figured I would be out in a couple hours unless it was lights out fishing, then of course I would stay the course.  I landed one nice rainbow by 10 but then things got slow.  I shouldn't say things got slow because one fish doesn't incur that things were happening very fast. I was comfortable in the tube so I stuck with it.  As I was kicking around a guide came by and a quick discussion actually had me competing with the locals for top prize with the little rainbow I had landed.  Things were slow.  I noticed him head up to where the river came in and noticed his client land a couple fish.  As I studied the scene I watched as another guide take a phone call from him and immediately head off to join him.  Now I'm in a float tube and these guys have big motors but I would not be left behind.  So off I go, kicking my butt off.  I believe I was 3/4 to a mile from my truck when I reached the river inlet and it was probably 2 o'clock by this time, my water was gone and it was Hot. I studied the guides for a while as they pulled multiple fish out of their holes and formulated my plan.  They eventually moved off and I swooped in.  I got nothing in their spots but I slowly moved down weaving my way through the channel created from the river flowing through the weeds.  The one thing I took from the guides was when you found the fish stick to that spot because there is more than one.  I believe this is due to the fact that the rainbows are spawning at this time.  I moved down and it finally happened like it's supposed to.  I set myself up on the weed edge, kicking constantly to keep myself in position.  My indicator went down and I was immediately in a battle.  I think I did 3 or 4 circles before the big bow came to the net.  A few pictures and a nice release for the tired fish and I was ready for more.  It took me a couple minutes to untangle the flies from the net.  This situation ticked me off because I was using my dad's net.  Mine is rubber and doesn't tangle flies.  His is not rubber and this problem occured with every fish.  The very next cast saw my indicator go down again and after a few more circles was rewarded with a nice male wearing his spawning colors.  I repeated this routine for the next half hour and landed 3 more fish.  As I kicked the mile back to shore I thought to myself  "that's how it's supposed to happen," and thanked the lord for that experience.  I reached shore 9 hours from when I put in.  I was tired, hungry, thirsty and extremely sun burnt but it was all worth it for that short period of intense action.
     That night I stayed at a friend's ranch in Coleville and shared my story over a few cold ones and a steak dinner before exhaustion got the better of me.  The next day I found myself exploring and helped with a cattle drive across the highway.  I fished another spot for a couple hours but high winds blew me out and I just couldn't kick anymore.  I headed home that night so I could enjoy the festivities of the fourth but my thoughts go back to that day when the fishing was, as it is supposed to be.

The sun comes up on the Sierras

Deadman Creek

Under cut snow bank

Hmm. Late snow?

First one of the day

A view to fish by

I bet I can outfish the rich folk

McFatty

Big hen

Nice Color

Big Buck

About to cross the highway

That's high water

Off into the Sunset