Saturday, June 7, 2014

I Wanted A Brook Trout. I Got This Instead...

After a week of fishing (Thursday night was the only night I didn't fish this week - score!) and catching mostly smaller browns and cutts, I turned my attention to some high-mountain lakes stuffed full of brook trout that needed my attention.

So I loaded up the truck and set out for a lake that could possibly hold some nice brookies. After a long, bumpy drive, I was nearly at my destination. Snow was falling lightly outside my truck and I was regretting not bringing a coat, but there were fish to be had!

Then I turned a corner and saw a sad sight.


The wind blew over a few trees right in the road! I was only a mile or so from the lake at this point, and I was tempted to park and just walk in. But then I got to looking around and realized that if someone else came up this road, they wouldn't have the room to turn around if I parked my truck.

Dejected, I drove down off the mountain and started heading back north. I was half-tempted to just throw the towel in on the day already. I'd been driving for more than three hours at this point, through lonely towns like Bickenll, Loa, and Aurora. 

Then I remembered a lake, further north and somewhat on my way home, that holds brookies. I decided it was worth a shot, so I drove on for another hour or two before parking my truck and starting the 2 mile hike into the lake. 

On the way up, I spooked a couple cow elk. They didn't feel like sticking around for pictures, apparently. 

After bumbling around through thick brush and lots of fallen logs, I arrived. 


I had the entire place to myself! The air was quiet and still, and I was alone on a gorgeous lake. Life really doesn't get much better than that. I settled in and got to fishing, feeling myself connect with the wildly beautiful landscape on that deep level intense outdoorsmen experience. 

This lake is also home to a robust population of cutthroat trout in addition to the brookies, and those ended up on my hook before anything else. 


Catching cutthroat this time of year is one the best fishing experiences we have here in Utah. Fiery reds and oranges cloak these native fish as they begin their spawn, and we as anglers are lucky to pull them in for pictures before sending them back to continue the never-ending circle of life. 

A few others came to hand as well.



After that last one was caught, the fish started rising like mad. The water was literally boiling, they were hopping everywhere. (That splash of water in the picture above is a fish rising. Kinda cool I snapped the photo right at that second) 

I turned to my box of flies and jimmy-rigged a setup on my spinning rod. There wasn't enough room to cast my fly rod on this small pond, so I had to improvise. I didn't have any split shot with me, so I tied the biggest swivel in my vest on the line, then about 18 inches of leader on that. I threw a mayfly on, the smallest in my box, and got to fishing. 

Instantly, I had a bite. And of course, I missed it. The instant action flies provide sometimes takes me by surprise. 

A few casts later, I saw my fly get swallowed again. This time, I managed to set the hook.

Then my reel started screaming. I have never had a fish tear line off my reel so fast and so easily as this fish did. 

I knew I was in for a bit of a tussle, so I tightened the drag a half-turn and tried to pull the fish towards me. 

Instead, the fish just dived to the bottom of the pond and started shaking his head at me. I tightened the drag again, but any time I applied pressure to the fish, it'd just rip line off and swim around madly. 

This went on for a good five minutes, with me straining to just keep tension on the line while the fish tuckered itself out. 

I started trying to haul the fish back in towards me again, and finally gained some ground. Another five minutes passed, and the fish was much more docile now, not making nearly as many runs as it had been earlier. 

Then, it came into view for the first time. My heart dropped - this was a serious fish! I started reeling again, only to watch it swim off, madly zipping around the pond for one last joy ride. 

After the last run, I finally got the fish to hand. 


This fish clocked in at 4 pounds on the money, and just a hair under 20 inches long. The coloration is just spectacular - cutthroat are the only trout to rival the brookie in terms of beauty, in my opinion. 




This is one of those fish I feel really lucky to have caught. I've brought a decent amount of big fish to hand this year already - 4 pound tigers, 3 pound cutthroat, a 3.5 pound brookie, and a few 18 inch splake. But this fish just felt different. Special, in a way my other big catches haven't. 

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that I was alone on the lake, with just my thoughts for company. I was tapping into that silent world that permeates the mountains, connecting with a deeper feeling of calm than I usually get up there. 

And of course, this fish was just amazing. It's not every day you run into 4 pound cutthroat trout unless you live on Pyramid Lake. 


I got very lucky today to catch that fish in such beautiful country all alone. It was definitely the best day of fishing so far this year. After being so patient to pose for pictures, this fish swam back into the small pond I caught it from to continue the work of keeping the population of cutthroat in that area alive and well. 


I didn't get my brook trout, but I got something even better on Saturday. What an incredible catch. 














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