Trout Lake Report: Suppertime

Anticipating another trip to the lake you tie up a couple more Brown Drake Muddler prototypes. Different body, bushier.

You're able to get to the lake at suppertime--yours and the trout's. There are flowers on the table.

You launch in the channel this time and cruise down the shoreline that has been the location of several prescribed burns.

It's also where you fished the heavy drake hatch last year, and you want to see what it's doing here this year. You save the drake muddlers and start with the brown muddler. You're scarcely out of the channel when you pick up a fish.

Right away you see drakes in the air, too. You fish your way down the shoreline toward last year's hot spot and find more fish already having supper.

You arrive at the hot spot. It has recently been quite literally a "hot spot," and smoke still wisps up from places. At dusk you'll see a small fire flickering in the shadows.

But after last year's amazing hatch you think of this sweet little bay as your own personal holy water. The evening's hatch is well underway, and the fish are busy tucking in.

They like the new drake muddler, and you're glad you tied up two after the first one is worn and waterlogged. But to be honest, you think they would take anything that floats.

You catch some, you miss some. You catch more than you miss.

At near dark you leave the swarm of drakes to the nighthawks and bats--and the trout, who continue to take them noisily. You fish your way back up the shoreline. You can barely see the willows, but you cast as close as you can without tangling in them. And you can barely see the takes, but you still get them. Maybe that's why you hook two strong fish who go on long runs and then come off.

You have half a sandwich left and a thermos of coffee, so you pour a cup and finish your supper as you kick in drifting the muddler behind you. You don't catch anything, and that's OK. You couldn't eat another bite.