Click on photos for full size image.
It's not really a fishing trip; it's simply driving up over the ridge after work and spending a little time checking out the lakes up there. This time of year it would be worth it even if I didn't fish. Everything is blooming.
The lake I like up here is one I refer to on this blog as Cutthroat Lake, because it's home to Lahontan Cutthroats. Just cutts. Just lots of big, fat, beautiful cutts. I've caught a few, and it's well worth the effort. And it can take some effort, especially this time of the year.
I fished my way on foot up along the left bank. It's a beautiful lake, especially when you don't look at the homes and the road on the right bank. Later in the season there will be lots of swimmers wending their way along this path to a cliff they like to leap from, but today I was alone.
While I was enjoying the warmth of the sun on my coatless back, and listening to the sounds of bees and flies buzzing lazily by, I heard a familiar rattling call. Sandhills. It took me awhile to locate them way up in the clouds overhead, circling and calling with the voice of Spring. See how quickly you can find them in this photo.
So I soaked in the sun, listened to the sounds--and fished. The fish were there, and they showed themselves, cruising back and forth along the shore, as is their wont, in pairs or in groups of five or six. I started by stripping a streamer--right in front of their noses, then fishing a scud--right in front of their noses, and finally floating a juicy Adams--right in front of their noses.
They just weren't interested. At least not in eating. They spawn from April through July, so, first things first, I guess.
It's nice to have them there, though, and to be able to wander up on a work day to while away some time with them. Later it could get very good. Some years the Callibaetis are thick, and I've caught cutts big and small on top with Adams and Callibaetis dries. Some years the damsels are thick, and I've caught them on top with a damsel adult fished in the surface film. Some years the hoppers are thick, and big cutts patrol the shallows and slam big hopper dries.
I can wait until they're ready.
No comments:
Post a Comment