The mountain is a magical place that never ceases to amaze me. It's amazing how at peace with life I feel when I'm on this legendary mountain.
The fish are just as incredible. This cutt was still dressed up for the spawn!
And so was this one
A splake, FROM A CREEK (I just think catching it from a tiny creek is the bees knees) said hello
Note the lack of blue halos and the forked tail that mark this fish as definitely a splake.
A skinny brook trout came to hand as well. I caught a lot of fish from this creek, but most were small, 5-inch brookies biting off more than they should be able too!
After messing around on my favorite trickle of water in the state of Utah, I headed up to the lake, pumped up the tube, and got to work with my fly rod.
Now, I'm not exaggerating when I say this - I caught something in the range of 80-100 fish while I was on Boulder. The vast majority were cutts that looked just like this
The best part? These cutts were taking dry flies. A seriously epic mayfly hatch was going on, and the fish were feeding all day long. I can't remember the last time I saw a lake boiling all day long, and well into the night.
I also made a hike into a lake I'd been wondering about for a while. While I didn't see any signs of fish, I saw quite a few salamanders. The view was gorgeous, too.
The last night I was on the mountain, I got back on the tube and found myself in the thick of things once again with the cutts. When these fish took the fly, they didn't just try to eat it - they tried to drown the thing! Cutthroat fishing isn't usually this intense except during the spawn, but Boulder Mountain cutthroat apparently didn't get that memo.
Leaving Boulder is always hard for me, but I knew I'd be back soon enough when fall rolls around. I have a few hunches to check out when the leaves start turning, and if they pay off, I could be coming home with some really nice fish.
Now, after Boulder, I went and hit a few spots for brown trout after work earlier this week. The browns were rising on hopper patterns! This guy jumped quite a bit before I got him in, giving my 3-weight quite the workout.
Then, I took some time to go hit a fun little creek home to a solid population of cutthroat and rainbow trout. The cutts didn't want to play, but the bows were a dime a dozen.
The fish weren't too big, but they were hard fighters, and a lot of fun on a 3-weight fly rod.
I did catch one cutthroat, the skinniest and most haggard-looking cutt I've ever laid eyes on. Long fish, though.
And then, on Pioneer Day, I hiked into a fun little stream in search of some larger brown trout. The creek is swift, deep, and unforgiving. I slipped and fell on the rocks more than once, and have some nice bruises to show for it!
However, that was all worth it when I hooked into a chunky little brown. I was tossing a black hopper into the slack on the side of the current when I saw a quick flash in the water and my fly disappeared.
I yanked up on the fly rod, tightening the line with my left hand, and felt a nice solid fish on the end of the line. He took a run up into the current, sitting on the bottom and shaking his head at me.
Ever so carefully, being wary of the swift current that could knock me off my feet if I wasn't steady, I tried to tug the fish down to me. He didn't like that much, took a huge jump clean out of the water, then tore off downstream.
The streambed was littered with huge, slippery boulders covered in moss, and I was having an insane time trying to follow the fish downstream and not kill myself! After maybe five or so minutes, I finally tuckered the fish out enough to get him to hand.
Without a doubt, one of the fattest browns from a river I have ever caught!
I caught a few cutthroat very similar to size, but they didn't stick around long enough to take pictures.
I also nearly got bit by this bad boy.
Without a doubt, that is the fattest rattlesnake I've seen in the wild. Probably digesting a mouse or something, considering how its stomach was bulging. I was hiking along the bank when I tripped, and as I was laying on the ground, I heard that unmistakable rattle. I looked up, and not three feet away from my face was this rattlesnake, all coiled up and ready to strike.
After a few heart pounding moments, I back away slowly and stood up, and the snake was still hissing and rattling like nobody's business. I snapped this picture as it was slithering back into the rocks, then I poked it a bunch with the tip of my fly rod (yay for 9 foot rods!!) to make it hurry away from me before continuing fishing. That was quite an adventure!
Fishing has been good to me these past few weeks, and hopefully it remains that way! I'll be getting into some more water this weekend, so look for that post soon!
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