Hey All! Prepare for a rambling email, but I have to tell someone about today. This was probably one of the best fishing days of my life.
The stress level has been in the red zone for a while now, so I thought I'd sneak out and get some time in with the rod. I had located a small alpine lake on the map, and from what I could tell it looked promising. A couple of lakes in that area are known to hold pretty good sized cutts and browns. One of the great things about Western Washington is that you can go from the salt water fishing in the Sound at sea level to alpine lakes at 4000 feet plus in a couple of hours (with all the fishing you want in between. I picked up my buddy at the park and ride at 7:00. He had a fresh jug of coffee, and we poured a couple cups and headed out. Two and a half hours later, including 45 minutes on washboard Forest Service roads, we arrived at our destination. At 4000' feet the air tastes like life itself. It fills your lungs and sets your senses on fire. The lake looked great, and we loaded up and hit the water. As you all probably know, there is a magical time in the fall when trout sense the winter looming in. They know cold tough times are ahead, and they gorge themselves on whatever food they can find, almost indiscriminately. At altitude, winter is fast approaching, so I had a feeling that we were in the zone. After an interesting launch through the mud bank, we set out in our float tubes. Almost instantly, I felt a tap. I waited and again, tap, tap, jerk. I set the hook and tied into my first ever Brook trout. It was only about 8 inches, but it put up a great fight. I can't believe how beautiful these little guys are. Slate gray backs, bright orange bellies, hot red spots ringed with an electric blue that seems to glow on it's own. The leading edges of their fins are painted pure white. I was ecstatic. I had two more before I got 1/4 of the way around the lake. As I cut out into deeper water, I felt a solid, heavy strike, not the light taps of the brookies. I set the hook and after quite a fight, I landed a 13 inch brown. Another first for me. The lowland lakes and rivers I'm used to are populated entirely with cutts and bows. It's amazing to me how well these wild fish fight. A 12 inch brown fights as well as any 14 or 15 inch stocked rainbow. They don't dance on the surface like the 'bows do; they go straight down or out and rip line off the reel like there's no drag at all. We caught fish after fish after fish. I lost count, but it had to be around 20-25 each, with many more lost. We had barbless hooks, and were trying to boat them quickly so we could release them unharmed, so we probably lost more than we should have. Every time we got close to the shore we would hook up with a brookie, and every time we moved out, we caught browns. It was unbelievable. To be out in the absolute wilderness in surrounded by millions of acres of forest in a tiny little lake just hammering fish after fish under clear blue skies is truly a gift. I'm not terribly religious, but I feel like today was God's way of telling me that everything is ok and He's got it under control. I haven't felt this good in three years. Sorry if I went on too long. This was the kind of day a fly-fisherman like me dreams of, and I just had to share it. Dan Crowe Washington State
