Trout Lake Report: Buck Tiger

Circumstances allow you to get to the lake much earlier than usual. It will be a full 8 hours on the water. You haven't done that for awhile. You think you can handle it.

You launch at the north end. You like it here.

You've tied up a quasi-hopper especially for the day.

You work the shoreline through the wind and waves.

The hopper claims its first victim.

Storm clouds are building in the west.

You think the storm will slip off to the north and miss you.

Over by the inlet you find lots of eager fish. They're small, but they nail that hopper.

Where you usually kick across the lake to the other side, you keep on going. You plan to explore the entire west bank.

That first storm may be slipping off to the north, but it looks like another one may be hard on its heels.

You decide to put your jacket on, just in case.

Five minutes later you hear the rumble of thunder and the first raindrops begin to fall.

You've been drifting a muddler behind you, and a nice Rainbow tries to make off with it. It's a treat to net a fish like this.

The rain is coming down harder, and the thunder is getting closer--which means the lightning is, too.

You come up on a little shooting stand. You've passed this thing by for years. Today you decide to shelter in it while the lightning passes over.

It's a perfect retreat. You break out the thermos, pour yourself a cup of hot coffee, and kick back.

The sun breaks through the clouds briefly. The rain slows. The thunder grumbles into the distance. Time to go.

You launch and start down the shoreline again.

Two minutes later another storm rolls over the ridge and begins to dump its rain on you.

A new round of lightning and thunder begins. You pull over and wait it out. When the lightning has moved on you do the same.

You fish all the way down to the Drake tree, then turn and begin to work your way back.

The wind backs off and the lake begins to settle down. Scattered rises begin to bloom out in open water.

There are lots of bugs.

You kick out into open water and drift the muddler through the riffles. You get a bump, a swirl, and then a hook up.

You make your way back toward the inlet. It looks like the storms are over.

As has become your habit, you first explore the willows on either side of the inlet before casting into the inlet channel. On the second cast something jumps the muddler as soon as it lands. You raise up, expecting another fingerling, and feel weight, blessed weight. Then a wonderful, jerky pull. It's a good fish at last. No, not a Brown. A Tiger. Beauty.

The primal order is restored. The cosmos is once more aligned.

You wonder what other surprises might be in store for you. You find two more beautiful little Rainbows.

In the twilight, you kick slowly across open water toward the take out area.

The wind finally backs off for good, and the water calms. You see fish rising just off the take out. You tie on some 5X and begin casting a little caddis. It's just you and the bats.

And a photobombing fish.

When it's too dark to see the fly, you make one more cast and begin stripping in. You get a grab. You think it's a little fish, but it suddenly pulls hard--real hard--and is gone. Just like that. That's one for another day.

On the drive home you round a bend, and there's the full moon right in front of you. When you get home you get the good camera and the tripod and get a shot.

The July full moon is the Buck Moon. Most people who know that are probably thinking about buck deer. You're thinking about that big, beautiful buck Tiger.

Trout Lake Report: A Fish in the Hand

You like to think that fishing is your life, but sometimes your life makes it hard to find time to fish. This time you have to grab a few hours in the middle of the day. You launch at the channel.

You have learned that midday is a good time to find individual fish working damsels, so you tie on a damselator.

Sure enough, just a little way along the channel you find a fish splashing around. It takes a couple of casts to get the fly in the right place, but when it is, the fish nails it. Another Tiger, a good 19 inches. You're very pleased.

You come out of the channel into the north end and start down the Drake Bank. You want to see if there are any signs of an early Drake hatch.

Along the way you find a couple of other fish working. You get strikes out of them, and have them on for a second or two, but both pull off the hook.

Then you get a good hookup. It acts just like a Brown, but it's a fine Rainbow.

The wind has kicked up. It blows you right down the shoreline.

And it blows the damselator right into another chunky Rainbow's mouth.

Down at Drake Bay there are no signs of Drakes yet. It's early in the day for any to be hatching, but there are no shucks in the water or other evidence that they're here. The Bay has changed, though. The tree that was its centerpiece is down. You don't think the Drakes will mind.

Time to work back up the shoreline to the truck. You tie on the Muddler of the Day. Surprise, it's blue.

You have high hopes for it, but after a hundred yards or so the tippet wraps around the fly. You blame the wind. When you try to extricate the tippet it skews the deerhair out at an impossible angle. You can't get it loose, so you decide to clip the fly for possible future restoration. You tie on a black-bodied muddler.

You've been kicking against the wind to get back, but now the wind backs off. You appreciate the easier passage,

Before you know it, though, you're back at the take out without another fish. But, you did catch three really nice ones. You think about that Tiger, and you remember again: A fish in the hand is worth two in the lake.