Trout Lake Report: For Old Times' Sake

There's a little excitement early in the afternoon. An old shop across the river burns down. It's already a hot day--the town time and temperature sign is registering 107--so this is redundant. You once again admire the volunteer fire fighters who battle the blaze in this heat.

You wait until late afternoon to go to the lake. You hope it will be hot there.

With the lackluster showing of the fish on the last trip, you decide to launch at the far north end and see how the drake hatch is doing there. This is where you first saw drakes this year, sending you hurrying to the drake grounds on the far side of the lake. And it has been very good here, too, some years.

You want to check out the inlet first. You kick across throwing a muddler--nothing--and tie on a damselator when you get there. The damsels are a blue cloud over the lake.

Nothing at the inlet. You move down the shoreline casting into the lowering sun. It's hot. But not in the way you were hoping. And the damselator isn't working. It would help if you could find a fish making a meal of those dainty blue morsels.

Time to kick back across to look for drakes.

You peer over to the drake grounds in the distance, where you've been spending all your time recently. You wonder what you might be missing.

You troll across. Nothing. When you get to the other side you work down the shoreline with a drake dry. You don't see a single brown drake. And you see only one fish.

So you kick back over to see what's happening on the inlet side again. You tie on a drake muddler. You find some fish working under this tree.

You catch one, and then proceed to hook and lose three in a row. Things aren't going so well.

Time to kick back to the other side again to see whether any drakes might show at dusk. You troll again. Nothing.

The sun goes behind the ridge and shadows begin to descend over the shoreline.

You work all the way down again with a drake dry and still don't see a single drake.

You get a couple of bumps from little fish, and then finally get a good hit by a rainbow who must still remember the taste of drakes from when they were still hatching here. A take for old times' sake.

You mess around until dark enjoying the cool of the evening. You missed the hatch here this time, but you've been remembering good fish taken from this stretch in years past.

You decide the trip was worth it, just for old times' sake.