A Real Fishing Adventure

I feel as if I say this every time I write a new post these days, and I probably do - Saturday of this week rolled around and I desperately needed to get out and get some fishing done.

I'm not exactly what you'd call a stress manager; in fact, I'm the opposite of that. I take small problems and kind of blow them out of proportion. Alright, not kind of - I do. Anyways, fishing is my therapy, but we how busy I was after work this week (writing articles, fixing the Camaro, and going on the first date I've been on in months) I only got out once before Saturday to fish and soothe the nerves of my tattered soul.

Saturday came around, though, and Colby and I as usual loaded into my Camaro and headed off for the wild blue fishing yonder.

Only this time, it felt like an adventure. A true, honest-to-goodness, go lose yourself in the wilderness adventure.

We left around 1:30 in the afternoon, driving through some of the most desolate, deserted land this state has to offer. Our exact location will remain a secret, because this lake is truly a gem in the middle of absolutely nowhere, and its location was entrusted to me by a fisherman far better than I.

After nearly two hours on pavement, we left the asphalt for a dirt road. In a Camaro. I'm pretty certain that never has the world seen a Camaro on this particular road before, yet here I was trying everything to not kick a rock up into my oil pan and ending the adventure prematurely.

The road was dusty, the car kicking up clouds of dirt that swirled in the still air. Towering craggy cliffs lined either side of the small canyon the road wound its way through, bare and dry in the warm afternoon air. A stillness hung in the air, though. An odd feeling, really, that something was unsettled.

That feeling permeated the entire fishing adventure on Saturday. I couldn't shake it, and neither could Colby. We've fished together a lot, almost every weekend for four months now, and we've never been on a lake where we felt as if we were trespassing into a realm we weren't supposed to be in. After some of the inexplicable things I've seen in the wilds of Utah (I need a whole blog post just for that) I'm a bit more wary now when I feel odd, like I did at this lake.

As we arrived at the lake and finally stepped out into the desolate area, Colby and I both looked at each other with the expression of, what did we get ourselves into?

I've fished this lake a few times before, but never have I felt so off-kilter as I did on Saturday. Truly, it was an odd feeling.

Regardless, we rigged our poles up and walked around the lake to where the bank drops off sharply into a weed bed - the exact kind of great hideout for larger fish.

Quickly, I hooked into a decent cutthroat.

These cutthroat fought hard, as cutts tend to do. They were full of attitude, spunk, and did not like being netted in the slightest. 

This one had a bit of whirling disease, and no spots on the body. Weirdest looking cutthroat I've ever caught, and that includes the albino cutthroat from Joe's Valley. 

The real draw of this lake is not the cutts, although I have seen massive 25 inch hawgs drifting through the shallows like a boss. Tiger trout also roam this forgotten (I almost want to say cursed, because of how weird I felt there the whole time) lake, and can reach trophy sizes. 

I'd been fishing with a size 7 jointed Rapala, but switched to a black and yellow Marabou jig, in the hopes of provoking something bigger to strike.

I was rewarded handsomely. 

I had the jig about 10 feet off shore, when I felt a sharp tug, then felt the fish dive to the bottom. I set the hook, and the fish just sat on the bottom, shaking its head like a two-year old throwing a tantrum about eating broccoli. 

Eventually, I pried the fish off the bottom and fought it up closer. As it wiggled and swam and tried to escape me, I saw the flash of orange on its body that gave the fish away as a tiger. 

I yelled to Colby to get the net, and he came bumbling over just in time to net this beauty for me. 

This beauty tipped the scales at a solid 2.5 pounds, and came in at 21 3/4 inches long. Not a half bad fish in the slightest. 

Colby finally got a fish to hand after that, hooking the first of 3 nice cutts for him. 

As the sun began setting, the fish got more active as they're wont to do. I was still using a marabou jig, but in different colors now. I was jigging softly off the bank, right where it dropped straight down. A few minutes prior, a large tiger had come to take a swipe at it, only to miss and swim back off. I was hoping to entice him to return. 

As I pulled the jig closer to me, I saw a dark green back come swooping in like a little kid wearing a Superman cape, and chomp on the jig.

I set the hook with absolutely no idea what I was in for. 

Now, I fish with lighter tackle than a lot of fishermen, for two reasons. 1, it gives me a bigger challenge. Lighter tackle means an easier time snapping off fish, losing line, and lures. It makes the game harder, and I enjoy that sometimes. And 2, when you hook into fish with light tackle, the fight is incredible.

As I hooked this fish, it took off, ripping line off my reel like kids rip wrapping off Christmas presents. I was using a smaller sized Abu Garcia Cardinal reel with 4-pound fluorocarbon and a drag set decently tight. This fish was ripping line like there wasn't any drag at all. Colby was right next to me on the bank, fixing his line, when he heard my reel screaming and looked up in surprise. 

I hooked the fish two feet from shore, if that. It ran about 50 feet out, my reel screaming, my heart pounding, and my mind repeating the same thing - keep the line tight or your gonna lose him!! 

I kept tension on the line, and when there was a slight break in the fish's crazed run, I tightened the drag, but he still took line. I got him in close to shore, almost to the net, when he'd take off again, about three times before Colby was finally able to net him. The entire fight took about 10 minutes. 

I was rewarded with this beauty, though. 

19 inches, a solid 2.5 pounds, and one of the best patterned tiger trout I've ever caught in my life. 

Beautiful! 

I finished the day off with one more cutthroat, as did Colby. 

Darkness fell soon after that, and we couldn't see our lines or anything. We reluctantly packed up, seeing as the clouds moving in blocked the star's light we wanted to fish by, and loaded gear back in the Camaro for the drive home.

In the dark, the drive through the eerie canyon was even more ominous than mid-day. We started telling ghost stories, as is usual, but kept coming back to how unsettled we felt the entire time we were fishing. 

The whole lake had a silence, a stillness, over it, that we couldn't begin to describe or explain away. As we drove home, we tried to figure out what it was, but we ended up at a loss. 

We did however, see a UFO. Not even kidding! Something with green and blue lights flew really low over a mountain around 10 that night. We think it was a helicopter, but as we were unable to identify it correctly, it remains an unidentified flying object. 

The adventure was great, just what we both needed. And it was the first real adventure of the new year for me.