Trout Lake Report: Solitude

You love being able to slip away after a hot day to the cool of the lake. You love discovering that you have the entire evening to yourself.

You launch at the far south end. You haven't been there for awhile. You start working the shoreline with a newly-tied muddler.

There must be fish who see it and don't want it. But you're looking for this fish. He's on the edge of a weed bed, and he comes clear out of the water in his eagerness to grab the fly skittering by.

Maybe they're beginning to see a few hoppers.

You work on around wondering if there are any other fish who want the muddler.

There's one more. He's right up in the willows along a drop off, and he pounces on the fly as soon as it hits the water.

You keep going, enjoying the magical transformation of the day into night.

The Goose Family gives you a fly by. You're amused by the youngsters whose squeaky, high-pitched honks remind you of teenage boys going through puberty.

The wind dies, the lake calms, and pods of fish begin to rise out in open water. You tie on a lighter tippet, affix a #20 Griffith's Gnat, and go chasing chain risers.

Too soon the breeze kicks up again and you can't see the fly anymore.

So you tie on a bead head Woolly Bugger and begin a leisurely troll. You get bumps and pulls, and then a hookup. It's a little silver fish that shines like the moon.

Before you know it, it's dark.