Epic Boulder Mountain Trip

The legendary Boulder Mountain has been calling my name all year, but I didn't manage to make it down to that oasis in the middle of a desert until this weekend. Most people who go to Boulder stay a few days, at least, because it's far from almost everything else and getting in to some of the lakes requires a lot of work.

My buddy Mike and I decided to make a day trip out of it - if you can call what we did on Saturday a "day trip." We drove over 450 miles, spent 9 hours in the car, and 10 hours fishing. It was amazing.

We were up at 3, departed at 3:30, and drove through the dawn until we finally got to the base of the 11,000 foot mountain. I knew we were close when I saw this prominent landmark!

Our drive then went off road through a juniper and sage forest that doesn't hint that it gives way to soaring alpine country just a few thousand feet higher on the mountain. 

Anyone familiar with Boulder Mountain is familiar with its infamously horrible roads. After bouncing and crawling along a narrow dirt track stuffed with boulders (gee, I wonder how the mountain got its name?), and thanks to Mike's expert driving, we arrived at the first lake we'd headed out to fish. 

The best part? We had the lake to ourselves! Although the smooth, glassy water looked incredibly tempting, I had to take Mike to one of my secret honey holes on the mountain. After a decently long bush whacking hike, we arrived. 

Over the years, I've found a few amazing places on Boulder and this is one of them by far! We immediately set to fishing this small, fast moving trickle of water. 

A pretty little cutthroat came to hand on the second cast into the base of a waterfall. 

Mike got a cutthroat next, too! He missed one that flashed a nearly 17 inch length at us before swimming away in the same hole he caught this one. 

Then, the brookies started coming. I've caught a few brookies from this stream before, but never this many! 

They were small, but beautiful and feisty! 

We were having a blast fishing this little creek!

After a good hour and a half of messing around with little fish, and watching bigger ones turn their noses up at our offerings, we were almost ready to hit the lakes. I spotted one more hole, though, and Mike and I had to fish it.

As we crowded around the hole, we noticed that two very large fish were sitting on the bottom. One was dark, almost assuredly a brookie, and the other was a nice long cutthroat. Both fish were pushing 18 inches, and both looked hungry. 

They, too, turned their noses up at anything we flashed at them. They just didn't feel like eating! So, eventually Mike found a way to just make the fish mad and provoke a strike. It worked! 

Look at that! A 17 inch brook trout, from a brook! Life doesn't get much better than that!

(Note - the tail is rather forked a tad, which made me think at first this was a splake - brook/lake trout hybrid. Splake could theoretically get into this stream, but they'd have to travel a few miles, through two small creeks and two large reservoirs before ending up in our hands on this creek. Due to that, I'm going to go ahead and say this is a brook trout.) 

After that epic catch, we decided to go try our luck on one of the many lakes we were close too. After a nice little hike, some beef jerky, and boulder hopping, we arrived. 

I'd just missed a fish right as this was taken! 

The lake was gorgeous. We couldn't have picked a better day to go fishing in this magical place. 

I was standing on the shore of this hidden gem, slowly jigging a plastic minnow into shore, when my reel started screaming. I set the hook, and saw the flash of something I thought was a cutthroat. It jumped into the air, but I still couldn't see what it was! 

Then, it got closer and I realized I'd hooked into a feisty tiger trout. It gave me a good fight before it held still for pictures. 

After that catch, we decided it was time to try another little hidden pond. We set out for the water, home to fish in excess of 6 pounds (I've personally seen a 6 pounder from here, and know of people who've caught fish in the 7 pound range). 

Absolutely stunning. Words don't do justice to how majestic this sight is. A small pond, tucked away against a sheer cliff, water dyed green and crystal clear. The air was still and quiet, and I could just feel that primeval connection between man and nature as I stepped onto the springy shore of this small pond. 

For me, fishing isn't really about the fish. It's about cleansing my soul and recharging my spiritual batteries in an ethereal way. Seeing things like this, tucked way and hidden in thick pine and aspen forest, just stirs something in me that I have a hard time describing. I just feel an immense calm and a connection to the thousands of years of men before me who fished for survival, and it's truly humbling. 

Mike and I walked around this lake for a while, and saw large fish cruising the shallows. We threw everything we had at them, and they didn't budge. We broke for lunch, and gave them a go again for another hour or so, and with still no fish to hand, decided to head back to a different lake. 

Those were the first clouds we saw in the sky all day!

As we jigged along the shoreline, I felt something hit my line. I waited, seeing if it would strike again. I didn't feel anything, so I jigged again. As soon as my rod lifted up, I felt a solid weight on the end, like I'd hooked into some weeds. 

Then it started moving, and I realized I had a fish! It had inhaled the jig, apparently, and I had to really manhandle it into shore. 

I couldn't believe the coloration on this splake. It was incredible! So orange and amazing! Just this fish alone made the trip worth it! 

These pictures don't do the fish justice at all. The colors were so deep and vibrant, it looked airbrushed! After we measured the fish (a healthy 18 inches, with a good fat belly) it went back into the water to swim away. 

A few other splake and cutthroat came to hand after that, but nothing of note. We left that lake for one last small creek before heading home. 

Breathtaking! 

After this last brookie came to hand, Mike and I decided to call it a day. We'd seen amazing fish, played in beautiful country, and been up since 3 in the morning (2, in Mike's case). We were ready for home!

As we were loading up the truck, another man who'd been camping near one of the lakes started talking with us. He's fished the mountain since the 70s, and was telling us stories of when they'd bring home stringers of 5 pound brookies. Those days are a distant memory on this legendary mountain, but those fish still swim the cold waters and can be found by the dedicated fisherman. 

Get out and explore it! 

Epic Weekend of Gorgeous Fish - Brookies, Tigers, and Bows!

I got quite a bit of fishing done this weekend, believe it or not.

Saturday dawned bright and clear, and was the first Saturday in almost 2 months that I haven't been up before the sun to chase fish. A buddy of mine, Ben Wilson from 1320 KFAN's 'The Monty Show', came with me on Saturday. We paid a few of my favorite spots on highway 31 a visit.

I'm moving further north (and I'm not happy about this) later this week, so I wanted to get to my spots in Sanpete County before it ends up being another hour south of me.

After a few hours of fighting wind and finding what the fish felt like biting, Ben brought a nice tiger to hand.

I caught a bunch of skinny little tigers like this

Now, Ben loves to eat himself some fish. He brought along some spices, tin foil, and matches, so after we'd caught enough for dinner we built a fire and cooked up some fish while we waited for the evening bite to come on. 

I'm starting to look fat these days...I gotta get back in shape! 

After a good dinner, Ben and I went and found some more water and fish! 

Some gorgeous fish and beautiful scenery. 

After a nice, relaxing day of fishing, Ben and I clambered back into his truck and started the beautiful drive home. We had to stop for pictures and a few more fish before we got off the mountain. 

Sunday

This was one of the great weekends when I got to fish Saturday and Sunday, and I made sure I made the most of it. 

My good friend Justin and I set out for some brookies in the high country - and we weren't disappointed. 

We walked for a mile or so through rolling country like this, treated to spectacular views of rolling hills and mountains, before we got to the small lake that was our destination. 

This lake receives a healthy dose of planted brookies, but tales reached my ears of bigger, fatter, meaner brook trout swimming around this pond. I hoped to fight through the smaller fish to get to some of the lunkers that surely had to be swimming there. 

On the second cast of the day, I brought a pretty little brookie to hand. 

After that catch, the rest is history, as they say. 

What these fish lacked in size, they made up in zeal. I was pleasantly surprised by how feisty this little brookies were, and some spunk coupled with their beauty was very welcome. 

Justin caught his fair share too, but after 3 hours at the lake, we didn't catch anything much bigger than what was in the pictures. So we packed up and moved on to higher country. 

These meadows here on the Fish Lake Plateau are amazing. We are incredibly lucky to have such gorgeous country in this state. Being up there in the high country is incredibly refreshing - just what the doctor ordered after a long week cooped up in an office. 

We ran into a series of beaver ponds that filled the expansive meadows on the hillside we hiked up. What beavers can do when left to their own devices is rather impressive. 

We fished these ponds relentlessly, but to no avail. We knew fish swam in them, and there was definitely a way for them to get into the ponds. Following the rivers and creeks that drain down the mountain is a good way to find fish, and that's just what we did. Sadly, though we saw a few fish, nothing came to hand for a long time. 

We even found lakes tucked away so tightly in thick, jungle-like forest that if you didn't know they were there, you could pass right by and not even notice them. 

On the hike out, Justin managed to nail a 14 inch brookie with a nice plump belly, and a few other smaller fish as well. Besides those three fish, the rest of the day passed in a swarm of mosquitoes. 

While the fishing was slow, the country we hiked through was gorgeous and incredibly calming. The mountains have always been a refuge for me from the mundane goings-on of life, and being alone in country this pristine and untouched was a welcome treat. 

One last picture I snapped on the hike back to the car. 

Hopefully next week brings more fish! 

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.