Monday Fishing Report: Back to the River

All was well at the river. No floaters on a Monday.
I fished for big fish but kept getting bumps, so I finally rigged for what I thought was doing the bumping and had lots of fun catching lots of these.

I ranged downriver a ways, still looking for salmon or steelhead. These vultures, and more of their kind, were also working the river and riding the strong wind ahead of an approaching front.

It's always good to be reminded that I'm a visitor at the river, that it's home for many animals.

I kept gravitating back to the run under the bridge. I worked it thoroughly, several times, looking for something big.

I didn't find it, but I caught one more little smallie who hit this fly almost as big as he was. Maybe it was self-defense.

It's also good to be reminded that the river is constantly changing, and that the big fish I'm looking for are always moving up and downriver. I didn't find them this day, but they could be there tomorrow.

I'll be back.

Saturday Fishing Report: Change is Good

I rigged for the river for a change and wandered over there as afternoon was slipping toward evening. I parked by the highway and walked upriver a ways so I could work my way down to my favorite run under the bridge.
They worked on that bridge for a month and a half in June and July, closing the highway and routing the detour right by our formerly quiet homeplace. The bridge is fine now; I wanted to see if the run still was.
It was sunny when I slid down a steep bank and plopped into the water. I heard loud voices and looked up to see a small gaggle of rafters heading my way. I had forgotten all about the possibility of weekend floaters. By the time the last of them had dawdled by (one kid said to me, "Nice line!") clouds were blowing in and spitting rain.
It was good to stretch my wading muscles, and get used to walking on cobbles again. I fished my way downriver, throwing a big bushy fly. I got a little bump once. I didn't for a minute think it was a salmon or a steelhead. But the thing about rivers like this one is that next time it could be.
The setting sun peeked under the cloud bank and lit up the ridge as I approached the run under the bridge. All looked well; just a new snag to fish around.
I worked the run top to bottom. I found no fish, but I felt refreshed.
Change is good.

Carrie and Laura!

From the time we picked them up in Wenatchee to when we dropped them off eight days later in Seattle, we were a family, for better and for worse.
We kept it real, man.
We filled the days with trips and activities; it seemed like a lot at the time, but I'm glad now to have all those memories to sort through.
All in all, it was a blast.
Come back soon! We miss you!

Miscellaneous Fishing Report: Strange Days

The fishing has been strange recently.
So has the weather: hot and smoky. The fires in Canada smoked us up pretty good earlier this week. Here is the mountain, for example.
Right. You can't see it. You could barely see the ridges.
Before my two daughters, Carrie and Laura, arrived for an eight day visit, I went to the lake a couple of times. The first time I got there late. It was good to be there, but I caught nothing.
The second time I got to the lake and discovered that one side of the float tube was flat. I thought it seemed kind of squishy when I loaded it in the pickup that time before.
I had no repair kit with me (I do now) so I decided to make the best of it and fish from the bank.
It was a gorgeous evening, but the fish--what there were of them--were out beyond my best cast.

After the girls arrived we packed every day with trips to all the local attractions and diversions. Great fun.

On two evenings, however, they took their siblings out on the town, so Dad took the opportunity to see how the lake was getting along without him. And to check out the float tube repairs.

The first trip was short and wet. A couple of storms rolled through with enough lightning to send me to shore for awhile. But I still had time to finally catch a fish, a modest Rainbow who took a trolled leech. By then it was too dark for a picture.

That was a welcome break in my fishing drought, just as the rain and cooler temps were a welcome break here in the Dry Time.

The second trip, also short, provided further evidence that the fish are changing their habits. Hoppers aren't getting it at the moment, and when the fish are rising, they are highly selective. So, no fish this time either.

But look at this rise. Haven't I told you there are big fish in this lake?

OK, I lied. That's actually a "beaver rise." More accurately, it's a beaver submersion; it had just whacked the water with its tail and gone down.

Yesterday we took the girls to Seattle and said our sad goodbyes. So today it was back to our empty routine.

Making the best of it, I gave myself a little more time this evening and went back to the lake. But I didn't catch a thing.

The water level has dropped with the summer drawdown, and the configuration of the weedbeds and dropoffs has changed; so the fish aren't where they used to be. In general, fish activity seems way down, even though the hatches seem good. Hoppers continue to have an underwhelming effect.

I did get one good rise to my little light Stimulator pattern, but by then it surprised me so much I set way too fast and pulled it out of the fish's mouth.

All this will change; but for now, in the middle of the dog days, maybe the trout are staying deep and biding their time. That's what I'll be doing.

I'll keep checking out the lake, but meanwhile I hear the river's open. Seems there's this summer run of Chinooks.

Believe I'll check that out, too.