Family Post: Fishing and More

A fishing trip with Sebastian soon became a rolling rocks, getting rained on, taking shelter in the truck, getting rained on again, seeing a rainbow, and running around trip. It was the best.

Family Post: Captain Sebastian

We closed out June with a canoe trip.

I haven't had the canoe out in a long time. Ever since a tree fell on it I get sad when I see it. But though the bow seat will no longer safely bear the weight of an adult, Sebastian is just the right size and weight.

Before the tree broke it, Lidia, Sebastian's mom, was a frequent occupant of that bow seat, and we spent many happy hours fishing trout lake. She caught fish, too, including a 20 inch Rainbow on a Caddis dry.

So when we packed up the canoe for a spin it was a reunion for Lidia and the maiden voyage for Sebastian. 

Sebastian was excited and proud to wear a life jacket, and especially to be in the bow seat. I think he thought being in the front made him the captain.

Photo: Lidia

The evening was warm and calm, perfect for a canoe ride.

Photo: Lidia

Sebastian dug it. Go over there. Captain's orders.

Photo:Lidia

We did take a couple of rods along: Sebastian's little spinning rod and my fly rod. We trolled with both, and even anchored for awhile so Lidia could fish a little mayfly dry and Sebastian could watch an indicator over a nymph. (The joke is that I used an actual bobber for the indicator.) I kept hoping that at least one fish would be good to us, but it was not to be. (Next time I think I'll take Sebastian to Fish Lake where it's legal to fish with worms. I'd love to see him catch a trout.)

Photo: Lidia

But Sebastian didn't mind at all about the fishing. All he wanted to do was paddle.

Photo: Lidia

Maybe some day we'll have a new canoe, and I'll be in the bow with my fly rod, and Sebastian will be in the stern paddling his old Grandpa around the lake.

Family Post: Birth of an Angler

My grandson Sebastian was with us over the weekend. It was high time to load up with worms and supplies and go fishing again.

You might recall that on his first trip we didn't catch anything, and Sebastian fell in the lake. I wondered whether that might dampen his enthusiasm for this trip. No worries. He was eager to get his hands on his fishing rod again.

This time the dock was free, and bluegills were back in numbers, schooling in its shadow. We baited up and Sebastian went to work. It wasn't long before he caught his very first fish ever. Let the record show that he achieved this milestone at three years of age. Way to go, kid.

He threw it back in himself, and went back to work again, and, yep, caught another one. (Thanks, bluegills.) He tried to throw this one in, too, but he discovered those needle-like spines in a gill's dorsal fin, and decided throwing fish back in was Grandpa's job.

Catching them was his job, and catch them he did. I didn't keep count, but I'd say it was seven or eight. Maybe more. He was a fishing machine.

(I think he takes after his Mom, my daughter Lidia. She used to fish with me at Trout Lake, and did very well, including a 20+ inch Rainbow caught on a little caddis dry. My hope is to get her and Sebastian to Trout Lake for some fishing from the canoe. Can't wait for him to catch a trout.)

I decided we should try another lake where he might be able to graduate to bigger bluegills. We got there and set up on a canal where my son Jeremiah and I used to have luck. As I was baiting the rod Sebastian discovered what Jeremiah had discovered before him: there are lots of good rocks here to throw in the water.

I cast the bait out into likely spots, but we got nary a bite. So we moved down to where the canal enters the lake and tried there. No bites here, either. But Sebastian didn't care. It was a hot day, and there was a perfect place for wading. So first his shoes and socks and jeans came off.

Then his shirt. Someday he will be able to say truthfully that he's been fishing since he was in diapers.

Finally everything came off and he was Mowgli by the jungle watering hole. (Jeremiah, in his day, went in at this exact spot.)

Meanwhile, nothing was biting. It was finally time to go. He really didn't want to leave, so I promised him we'd go fishing again the next day.

And we did. We went back to the dock, ate some lunch (say "Cheese!") and then offered some lunch to the bluegills.

Sebastian knew just how to do it.

Bingo.

The smile says it all. I think the population of anglers has definitely increased by one.

Trout Lake/Brookie Lake Report: Scouting

It's Friday. Tomorrow the general fishing season opens. My favorite lakes will finally be there for the taking. It's the day I've been waiting for for six months.

I won't be here. I'll be cooped up in a plane while anglers are making the first casts of the season.

That's OK, it's for a good reason. I'm going to Kansas to join my three remaining siblings in helping our parents get ready for a move. They have been in assisted living for a long time, but now, as they have entered their Nineties, they require a move into a section of the retirement home that will provide dementia care.

They're basically OK, except for serious memory issues. Many people tell me it's a blessing for someone my age to have both parents living. I see that. As some of you may know, however, dealing with the long, slow-motion decline of your parents can be challenging. Still, I'm beginning to think they may outlive me. One day my Mother will ask, "Why didn't Jim call?" and, well....

Since I won't be here for opening day I took some time on Thursday to drive up to Brookie Lake and Trout Lake to see how things looked.

Brookie Lake is full to the brim, with the spillway roaring. Campers were already staking out campsites.

Signs of spring are making their last stand everywhere. Summer is already pushing its way in. The meadows are soggy and creeks are full. The leaves are almost fully out, and I saw blizzards of cottonwood fluff already. This is unprecedented in the ten years I have lived here.

Birds and animals are here and active. The rattlers are clean and shiny. I saw more than one on the gravel road, and I watched my step in the underbrush.

Trout Lake is also full to the brim. The outlets are running high on the north end.

This is usually a little pathway down to a shingled beach.

There were campers setting up in the north and south campgrounds here, too. Fish Lake, on down the road, is already crowded with RV's and fifth wheels. On the drive out to the main highway I would pass 9 or 10 more rigs rolling in for the big opening.

This launch on the south end is as full as it gets.

The river, meanwhile, is bank full and still rising. It's approaching 20,000 cfs, and is over 14.5 feet. Flood stage is 15 feet. This is an event that usually occurs in May and June. Might as well get it over with.

I'll get home late Wednesday night. You just might find me out on Trout Lake on Thursday. Can't wait to explore those high shorelines.