Trout Lake Report: Nothing Lasts Forever

You load your Father's Day present and head for the lake for some more Drake research. It's a warm day, and you should get a more accurate picture of the hatch than you did in the cold, wet conditions of the last trip.

The new tube looks good getting all wet and muddy at the channel access. Time to break it in.

Break it in you do. There are three guys ahead of you down the long Drake shoreline, so you make a long kick across the lake around them and down to the west side. Tube does just fine.

Drakes are already popping here, and fish are taking them. 

You pick up a nice Rainbow right off the bat.

Then another one.

Two casts and two fish. The problem is that you hooked five fish and lost three of them. You think the acrobatic "Drake takes" you're seeing result in poor hookups. You'd hate to think it was you.

While you're catching those fish the three guys who had been on the Drake Bank before you head back to the campground. It looked like they were waiting for Drakes, but maybe they gave up, or have an idea for supper they're really eager to try. You kick over, and another guy moves into the west side.

You fish all up and down your favorite stretches of shoreline looking for Drakes and rises, but they are sadly lacking. The inescapable conclusion is that the hatch is dwindling. And that you want to get to the west side first on your next trip.

You finally decide to tie on another secret weapon--the Brown Drake Stimulator--and start working your way back to the truck.

You work the shoreline carefully but nothing is happening. You have time to enjoy the changing colors in the sunset.

The moon is out, and the BD Stimulator is visible in the moonlight, so you can keep getting it in close. You drop it into a notch in the willows and let it sit. A fish makes a grab for it. You raise up and miss it.

You kick back and maneuver into position again and lay the fly right in there where it was. You wait. There's a rise on down the bank. That's good. A Brown, you think, patrolling its territory. You're pretty sure it will check out the notch again. You wait. And the fish comes back and grabs the fly. This time you hook it and net it. Now, that's fishing.

You fish on. You're tired but the lake is waking up. You hear rises along the shoreline, and you get bumps on the stimulator. You cast it in close and get a strong take. It's a good fish, and it's fun while it lasts. Like the day.

Time to head for home, but you'll be back on Monday for the solstice, the full moon, and the longest day of the year. You'll bring the Drake box, but you'll also be ready to move on. Nothing lasts forever.

Trout Lake Report: The State of the Drakes

It's another cool day. That doesn't stop the wildflowers. Bright yellow ones have added their splash of color to the mix. they're called Blanket Flowers, but your name for them is Brown Trout Bellies.

Your plan is to go back down the Drake Bank to see how the hatch is doing. The campground has thinned out so you launch at an open access on the north end of the channel. That will shorten up your travel distance a bit.

Along with the cool temperatures come wind and roaming showers. You're ready for anything.

The sun breaks out now and then. What a tease.

You snag your BD Muddler in the fallen pine, a victim of last season's fire, and a new landmark along the shoreline.

You work your way along, past Reedy Bay, down to the end. You see some Drakes, but nothing is moving.

A little hot coffee and a snack help keep the chill at bay.

You go on around the bend and fish along the west side. At the swallow holes you catch the first fish.

Down here there are Drakes in the air and some fish rising. As raindrops begin to fall you cast the muddler into the shoreline, strip it out--and get a hard pull. You set the hook on a very nice Brown. You play it carefully--it wants to run and go deep into the weeds. You're pretty sure you've got it ready to net. You bring it in, you're reaching out with the net, and the fish looks you in the eye and goes ballistic. Sometimes a fish does that, and if you hold firm for a second or two it will quit, and you can scoop it up. This fish would not quit. And so the inevitable happened: he broke off and took the fly with him.

You tie on a Drake dry and go on down the west shoreline past the landslide.

It's raining harder now.

Another fisherman has rowed down and joined you on the west shoreline. You kick out and around him on your way back to the Drake Bank.

A nice Rainbow takes the fly as it drifts behind you.

You go around the bend and start working back up toward Reedy Bay. Rain squalls come and go, and the wind gets colder.

The Nighthawks are back, again amazing you with their aerial displays.

The fishing is slow, and you see only a few Drakes. You get some hits, but precious few hookups.

Only one more fish comes to the net. Still, the conditions are far from ideal. This was not the best evening for making an assessment of the hatch.

More data will be required in the quest to determine the state of the Drakes.

That's OK with you.