Trout Lake Report: Just How I Was Feeling

I went back Tuesday afternoon. It was a long, lazy time on the water. I try not to feel I have anything to prove when I'm fishing, but that notion creeps in. After a good day, such as I had Monday, it's a lot easier to relax and just enjoy the ride.

I was able to go in at the channel--no one was there. The day was warm, as promised, and I began without a jacket. It was still windy though, and later the jacket felt good.

I still had a good feeling about that Muddler, so I started out with it and fished it for a long time. I made my way out into the south lake.

I worked my way down this shoreline casting the Muddler in to the bank, and then trolled it back to the channel. I had so much fun I hardly noticed I hadn't caught anything.

OK, to be honest, I did notice and felt something had to be done. In the channel I switched to a green bead head and soon had a nice Rainbow in the net.

I went the other direction out into the north lake, drifting with the wind and trolling that bead head the whole way, but I didn't catch anything. That's OK, though; a fish would have disturbed my reverie. After awhile the wind began to sit down.

The lake calmed, but nothing was rising, so it seemed like a good time to tie on a Muddler. I worked my way up this shoreline casting in to the bank and stripping back.

Just when I thought I should reexamine the whole Muddler strategy I had a strong take. I was sure it was a Brown, but it turned out to be this gnarly Rainbow. Strong fish.

Fish were starting to rise, and Swallows were swooping over the channel, so I disciplined myself and clipped off the Muddler. I tied on a little Peacock Midge and set out for the channel to catch a fish on a little dry.

Right at the south end of the channel this little guy obliged me. He becomes the first fish caught on a dry at Trout Lake this season. (I've been fishing the Muddler wet, so I didn't count that.) 

I paddled up to the north end and began targeting rises. It wasn't a heavy rise going on, but there were enough fish working to give me something to aim at. Many, though, were little flippers, as I could tell when they flipped clear out of the water. Then I saw a steady riser up closer to the bank.

He came up, then came up again. I laid the fly down near his last rise. He came up again a foot away from the fly, then a second later calmly sipped it in. I set and was surprised to feel some head-shaking weight. Another strong fish, and a Brown this time. Not as big as Monday's fish, but just as determined to avoid the net.

The rises subsided, the dusk deepened, the bats came out, and I tied on the bead head again. I trolled a big circle but the catching was over.

So I paddled in as Venus brightened and the frogs sang love songs.

Just how I was feeling.