Trout Lake Report: Still to Come?

So where were we?

Oh yeah, I went on another trip. This was a trip to Indiana for a family wedding. It was wonderful.

We got back home and the first thing I wanted to do was see how the Drake hatch was doing at the lake. I made it there once--and then things stacked up and I haven't been back since. I hope I haven't missed the whole dang hatch.

I plan to make up for this week next week. You know, when things get back to normal.

Meanwhile, here's the report of my trip this past week.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky is doing funky things with the clouds and light as you wind your way to the lake.

It's good to see the lake again after an absence of a week. You launch at the channel.

You head down the shore toward the Drake Bank. It's quiet, but you know you'll find some fish along the way plucking damsels. You tie on a damselator.

You come up on some floating logs and begin laying the fly in as close as you can. On one cast the fly bounces off the top of the log into the water. Perfect.

There's a hit on the fly. You raise up and miss. The fish swirls again as you're getting ready for another cast. You lay the fly in on the ripples of that last swirl and the fish smacks it. A beautiful Brown.

Good to be back.

You move on down the shoreline. Under this tree you see a subtle rise.

You drop the fly in and the fish sucks it under. Another beautiful Brown.

The wind has picked up.

You take your time working the shoreline.

At this little reedy bay you see the first Drake, and then another and another. They're beginning to come off steadily. You tie on a Drake dry, and on the first cast into the reeds a fish does a "Drake take," hitting the fly with a loud splash. You know it's a little fish--they get very excited by these big bugs.

You work down the reeds. You're letting the fly drag away from shore as you kick along when a fish takes it. A nice Rainbow almost swallows the fly whole.

You get down to the far end of the Drake Bank, the Mother Lode of Drakes in years past. Not so many today. There are a few in the air, however, and a few fish are rising noisily now and then.

You see some sipping rises up against the shore. You put the fly in there and wait a moment and the next sipping rise sips in your fly. A third beautiful Brown.

You head back toward the truck. The wind has laid down at the right time, making the kick back easier.

You're still fishing along the way, dropping the Drake dry in close to the bank. You start catching the little fish that leap on the fly as soon as it lands.

You're hoping for another big fish, though. This little bay has produced big trout in Drake hatches of the past. Today it holds only youngsters.

The Drakes are definitely here, but they aren't hatching in numbers. Either you missed the peak of the hatch, or it's still to come.

You can only hope it's still to come.

Trout Lake Report: A Very Good Brown Day

An entire afternoon and evening opens up. You take advantage of it.

It's a Friday, and there are campers, but the lake is much less crowded this time.

You cross the channel to John's Cove. There is a rise right up in the reed line. Another one just a few feet down the shore. You drop your fly in close and wait. The fish takes on the dead drift. A fresh little Rainbow.

You work on down the shoreline a few yards. You're stripping the fly back when it's ambushed by a streak of silver. Another Rainbow,

This is a good beginning. You keep it going. A few more yards along you drop the fly into a little pocket in the bank. It's shady in there. You let the fly sit. It suddenly disappears. Oh boy. A big old Brown.

And what is the fly working this magic? The blue muddler, restored and finally unleashed on the world. You aren't sure the fish are thinking "damsel" when they take it. But then again, who knows?The thing is, it's working.

You head on down the shoreline into the south lake. You get some swirls but no hookups. That's the way it works. You'll pass some fish, but you aren't looking for them. You're looking for that one fish that's been waiting all day just for a blue muddler. And it's there, just up ahead somewhere.

You cross over. You troll a bead head leech but get no hits.

You tie the blue muddler back on. Another little Rainbow begins the festivities.

You come to a bigger pocket in the bank. Out of the corner of your eye you see what looks like a rise in there. It's tight against the driftwood stacked up along the bank. It all says "Brown."

You start to kick into position to get your fly in there.You make one more cast outside the pocket and another Rainbow whacks it. You quickly deal with it.

You get back to that rise. You lay the fly in and let it sit. Not close enough. You strip it back out, on high alert--you never know--and make another cast.

This time it's right on the money. You let it sit. The riffles bump it up against the driftwood. You watch it. There's a little sip and it disappears. What do you know. It was a Brown.

Time to give the blue muddler a rest.

You tie on another muddler and continue on around the shoreline.

A shower sweeps across the lake. You switch to a green humpy for this stretch of shoreline.

You get to the channel and kick back across to John's Cove where you started. You wonder if there might be a little more magic left there.

There, right in the reed line, you see a rise. Like deja vu all over again. As before, there's another rise a few feet down the bank. And another further along. A fish is lazily cruising its territory. Experience has taught you that if you miss a fish going one way, just wait for it to turn around and come back.

You put the humpy right in the reeds. It slowly drifts out. Where's that fish? You pick it up and put it back in. It drifts maybe an inch before it's sipped under. Here it is. Another Brown.

You explore the rest of the Cove, but find nothing else working. You aren't ready to leave yet, so you kick out into the channel and tie on that bead head leech. You cast it out and start to troll.

You've gone about five feet when you get a heavy take. Can it be? One more nice Brown.

While you're releasing it the wind picks up. Looks like more rain is coming. You decide to call it a day. You kick into the take out.

On second thought, you decide to call it a good day. No, a very good day. No. How about a very good Brown day? Yeah, that's it.