Down at the Scum Pond

4/16/2010

After reading a post on the internet about some rather large kitties being caught down at the local scum pond, I started thinking about trying something different. I had been planning on going after some ice-off trout in Idaho, but I had yard work to do, and I just wasn't going to have time. While raking up some debris, I discovered some worms, and my decision was made for me. I collected some bait and packed up my gear. I first tried the boat launch nearest to the house, but I wasn't too impressed. Something stole my bait after 30 minutes, but that wasn't enough to keep my interest. I drove down to a highway bridge that usually holds some fish, and made my way down to the water. Suddenly, everywhere I looked there were snakes sliding down the hill as I approached. One brave little trooper took a stand and refused to slither away.

I passed through the gauntlet of garter snakes, and chucked my worm out. Before I even got a chance to cast out my jig on the other rod, I had a bite. I quickly reeled in this little feller.

I caught a couple more of them, and then I realized that my larger nightcrawlers were all gone. I decided to try some preserved shad that I had. They seem like they should work, but I still haven't caught anything on them, and today was no different. About the time I lobbed the stinky fish out into the drink, a crazy couple in an old 1960's speed boat came under the bridge and proceeded to zoom around in circles for about 15 minutes. Well, nothing happened on the fish front for 15 minutes. They eventually left, and I ditched the dead minnow. I scrounged through my worm container and found a decent sized worm. Almost immediately I had a strike, and this one actually put up a little tussle. Certainly not a ten pounder like the ones I'd been hearing about, but marginally better.

I couldn't find any large worms, so I gobbed on a bunch of little ones. I quickly felt another tap tap on my rod, and to my surprise it was a channel cat, but far from ten pounds.

Things dropped off after that. The vintage boaters came back, so I switched to the other side of the bridge. It looked interesting, but in the ten minutes I fished it, I broke off a jig and my catfish rig. I'll have to come back to that spot when I have more time, and I'll have to find some carp meat and big crawlers.

Final Tally: 6 Bullhead, 1 Channel Catfish

Year Tally: 136 Fish

Old Flame

4/14/2010

With all the attention that I've been giving The Blacksmith, I decided it was about time I visited my old love, The Logan. I had to stop for a guard duck at the mouth of the canyon, but eventually he let me pass. I drove past The Right Hand Fork a ways, finally settling on some rather attractive pocket water. I hiked down from my car for a decent while, trying to find an easy access point. I bushwhacked my way down to the river and soon hooked a nice little brown on my new attractor from a shallow riffle.

I pulled another brown of pretty much the same size out of that same riffle on my new dropper, "The Timmy." Another clone came to the net on the attractor just upstream of the others. At this point I suddenly realized that wearing my jacket was a stifling, sweaty, awful affair, and that I needed to ditch it ASAP. So I walked all the way back to my car, and then all the way back down to where I'd left off. I fished past a few minor spots with nothing, and then scored this pretty cutthroat on the dry from a nice flat run.

I worked my way upstream, eventually coming to some really deep long runs I'd been salivating over on the walk down. I got a few refusals from cutts on the dry, but no solid hookups. I could see some ridiculously huge whitefish on the bottom and decided to work on them for a bit. I missed one, but for the most part, they didn't want anything to do with me. That was kind of a disappointment, but I soldiered on. I came upon a nice little pocket up against a hollowed out part of a boulder and scored this sexy thing on a green and black Copper P Tail.

After that it all kind of blurred together. BWOS were coming off, and I even saw a few caddis. I lost my attractor to a tree and switched over to a big orange Turk's. I scored this stout little fellow on it somewhere in there.

At the tail of a fast little pocket, I scored this healthy brown on the Turk's. It went airborne several times (as most of the browns did that day) and took me downstream about fifty feet. I clambered over several boulders, amazingly not falling to my death, or at least to my embarrassment, before finally netting him.

I saw a lot of nice sized fish rising around this time, and I really should have tried to match the hatch a bit more closely, but I was lazy and running out of time. I still scored a few more fish, but had a ton of refusals. With about ten minutes left, I came upon a long deep run that was full of dozens of nice cutthroat greedily rising to the hatch. I had a lot of looks, and a few misses, but I only ended up landing this guy,

and a smaller brown. About this time, four carloads of college students came galumphing by, putting the fish down. It had to head to work anyway, so I hurried off.

Final Tally: 14 Browns and Cutthroat

Year Tally: 129 Fish

Ice Off at the Local Pond

4/9/2010

After all the wind and then warm sunny weather that we'd had, I thought I'd head down to the local pond to see if the ice was off yet. It was completely gone, but apparently I wasn't the only one to discover this. Trying to escape the crowds, I took a little dirt road down to some weedy shallows at the far end of the reservoir. I quickly noticed NO TRESPASSING signs posted at several spots along the road. I was a little nervous, this is the only place to take my float tube on this lake without the fear of annihilation by brainless boaters and wooers. I hiked down the road past the signs and took a look around. There was an awful lot of crap strewn about as well as a smattering of fire rings. I wouldn't want a bunch of a-holes trashing my land either. I didn't see any signs of life, but I decided to chuck a big clown colored jerkbait and a chartreuse double willow spinner bait for a bit, despite the dead frigid water. Well, at least it was good casting practice with my new baitcast rig. I only had a couple of small backlashes, and those came when casting into the wind. I just might get the hang of it after all. Well, I knew it was likely a waste of time fishing the lake this early, so I decided to go home and work in the yard. I saw the landowner when I got back to the car, and he didn't say anything. Hopefully I can keep parking and hiking in past his property, or I just might have to give up on musky fishing.

We Have No Cutthroat Today

4/8/2010

It felt really good to get out and fish after all that cold weather, so with an even warmer forecast today, I decided I really had to go back to The Blacksmith. I really didn't have a choice in the matter. I drove quite a long way up the canyon, sipping Mt. Dew and munching pretzels as I went. I pulled over at a favorite spot, Damien stating, "The papers say I'm a killer. Papers lie," as I turned off the car. I took off my indicator rig and tied on my big ugly attractor pattern from yesterday, a Carrot's Ear dangling below. Today was a special day, I was able to bring the good camera along. Oh happy day! I'm tired of out of focus washed out blah. After about a three minute pee I found myself in the river, working my way upstream. The first little pocket I cast to brought a respectable trout up to slurp my dry. I hesitated a moment, as I should have, but I missed him completely and he wasn't coming up again. I hit a couple more small pockets before moving up to the tail of a really long run. I could see a decent cutthroat holding against the bank. My fly came drifting toward him, but before he could take it, a small brown darted out from the undercut bank and nailed my nymph. Oh well, he was a pretty little guy, nevertheless.


I kept fishing my way upstream, but nothing was holding in the shallow riffles. Toward the head of the run I found some deeper water. Still nothing was happening, much to my surprise. I looked at my dropper and decided it was a bit short. I tied on a longer line and a little bit heavier fly, a green Copper John. That did the trick as the next cast brought me another small brown. Up ahead was a truly delicious looking run, with fast water down the middle, and deep, slack water on the sides. I decided now was a good time to ditch my jacket in the car as I was beginning to overheat. This was the first time outside in a t-shirt this year, and it felt pretty good. I hurried back to the gorgeous stretch of water, ready to get down to business. First cast I missed a fish. Soon I found another small brown in my hand. I cast up a little further, then something distracted me long enough for a rather large fish to blow up on my dry. I instinctively set the hook as soon as I saw the splash, pulling the fly from the fishes mouth. I kept working the run and soon had a whitefish on the line.

I kept fishing the run, missing two or three fish for every hookup, when I hooked up to this butt ugly bruiser.

I caught a couple more big whiteys, and then things started to slow down. I switched back to a double nymph rig, a small flashback bwo with a midge pupa below. I managed a few more whitefish as well as another small brown or two. I had probably hooked or missed 25, 30 fish out of this run, so I decided that was pretty okay and I really ought to move upstream. I skirted around some fast water and found a deep, strong run with slower water along the bank abutting some large boulders. Oddly I didn't get a single hit, and I didn't the last time I fished this run either. Some spots are like that. Somewhere in there I lost my bottom fly, so I put the trusty Copper John back on. I saw a really nice looking spot along the far bank, but unfortunately it was under an overhanging branch. I made several presentations before finally getting my flies to drift under the branch. That was the ticket. I set the hook on a nice trout that shot around the pool like a crazy wonky cat that has just discovered crinkly plastic drop cloths before it took off downstream. I pursued my quarry and eventually cradled this stout little brown in my net.

I kept hiking upstream through mostly fishless fast water, though I lost a truly gargantuan whitefish to the current along the way. I found a huge bend pool with water that was likely over my head. Below the pool was some seriously powerful current, so I had to come down the bank at the tail of the pool. Unfortunately I spooked two particularly handsome trout that were hiding up against some rocks. I crossed the stream and got into a better position. I cast to the spot where the trout had been and actually got a hit. It was a fish that was maybe a third of the size, and he popped off anyway. I worked the entire run with no more action. I moved upstream to another, shallower bend pool, and still nothing. AT this point it was time to get to work unfortunately. Stupid meeting making me get there 30 minutes early. Oh well, at least that one run was amazing, and the sun felt wonderful on my now toasty brown arms.

Final Tally: 14 Whitefish and Brown Trout

Year Tally: 115 Fish

Flashback

4/7/2010

After over two weeks of cold, snowy, overcast nastiness, the sun finally peeked it's face out to say "Hi." I'd been getting rather restless, so of course I took the opportunity to head down to my favorite trout stream. As I drove up the canyon, it seriously felt like I'd gone back in time a month. Snow blanketed both sides of the mountain, and once again it was hard to find a spot to pull my car off. I passed some water that I had remembered taking note of last time, so I flipped around and went back for it. The sun felt warm and welcoming as I trudged through the snow, but as I reached the water, it slipped behind the mountain. "Perhaps it's not so warm after all," I thought as my breath unfurled before me in a cloud. Oh well, onward I went. I didn't see any bugs hatching, but I figured the blue wing olives should be getting active, so I tied on a size 18 olive mayfly nymph beneath a small black Turk's. Within a couple of minutes I hooked about a 12" whitefish from a fairly shallow riffle. He flopped free as I tried to grab him, but that was just as well. There was a deep bend pool up ahead that had me a little excited initially, but I soon discovered some rather difficult currents and didn't get a single strike from it. I waded around the bend, and saw a much more enticing bend pool about 100 feet upstream. I worked my fly through the faster riffles at the tail end, but nothing happened. I moved up to the main pool, and I knew it just had to produce. There was a nice chute of fast water coming down the near side, and a wide area of nearly dead water adjacent to it. It looked to be a good two and a half, three feet deep closest to the rapids. Almost immediately I missed a fish on the dropper. On the next cast a little rainbow rocketed up to intercept my dry. I scooped it up in my new rubber mesh landing net (which I'm really digging by the way) and snapped a quick pic before releasing it.

It's a rare treat to catch rainbows on The Blacksmith. They're just not that common. My dry was looking kind of soggy, and I thought I might do well to fish a heavier dropper in this water, so I re-tied. I put on a big ugly size 10 something or other that I'd slapped together with foam, rubber legs, deer hair, and chartreuse craft fur, with a size 16 Flashback Carrot's Ear for my dropper. First cast got me a decent whitefish of maybe 15". The next few casts brought similar results, though sometimes the fish would quickly become unbuttoned. I was admiring the visibility of my new attractor pattern when a lovely cutty devoured it.

I fished the run for a bit longer and then decided to move on. The next little run ran between two clumps of willow trees and looked very fishy indeed. First cast scored me a cute little 10" brown on the dropper. After releasing him, I flicked my fly upstream, just to get it out from below me, and as I lifted up my line for a real cast, found that it had a small trout on the end of it. After releasing it, I moved up to a fast, deep run with slower water on either side of the main channel. I was surprised by the lack of fish in it, and was about to move upstream when a "rock" released itself from the stream bed and had a closer look at my fly. I guess it failed inspection, and the cutthroat slowly sank to the bottom, never to be seen again. I moved up to the head of the run, where the water spread out and slowed, and noticed a decent sized trout gulping something from the surface film. I presented my flies to him, and he immediately approved of my dropper. He shot into the current and headed downstream, but I soon found myself holding a healthy looking brown.

I placed my next cast closer to the fast water, and to my delight, was holding another rainbow shortly after.

I moved ahead through some nice looking runs, but wasn't even seeing any fish. At the very head of a long riffle, right amongst the boulders and the turbulence, I spotted two good sized trout picking nymphs from amongst the rocks. I slowly backed away and dropped my fly down to them, but they would have none of it. Up ahead was some very fast water, so I got out and went around it. I noticed a very deep, slower pocket right in the middle of some serious whitewater. I moved into position, and thought I saw something rather large flash down there. I drifted a few casts through before my indicator fly shot under and I was hooked into something large. It shot down into the rapids, underneath some boulders, and down a small water fall. I scrambled up the bank, my rod held high, over the boulders, through the snow and around some small trees before leading this ugly bugger into some slack water where I could net him.

Why is it that the trout always get off in these situations? Oh well, it was still a fun little tussle. I moved ahead, passing a lot more fast, featureless water, before coming across a very large bend pool. I decided to switch over to an indicator nymphing rig with a size 18 flashback bwo nymph, and a size 18 green Copper John. As I moved up into position, I startled a trout that had been tight to the bank, hiding beneath some brush. It proceeded to shoot up in the run and zip back and forth like a spaz. I tried the far side of the run with not a single strike. As I moved up the run, more trout flew out from the brush, ruining this once tempting water. I was nearly out of time, but I saw a nice run up ahead. I fished it for a while with nothing, but I was pretty sure I saw a whitefish down on the bottom. The nice thing about whitefish is that they usually don't freak out like trout and can often be coaxed into taking your fly if you get it right in front of them. And that's exactly what happened. The hooked fish tore off downstream where I eventually netted him, the flashback bwo in the corner of it's mouth.

I looked at my watch and realized I had to get back to Logan fast. I hurried back to my car and tore off down the canyon, clocking in right at 4 pm on the dot.

Final Tally: 7 Whitefish, 2 Rainbows, 3 browns, and 1 Cutthroat

Year Tally: 101 Fish

Eh

3/24/2010

I decided to head to Idaho and give The Narrows a shot today. On my way up I noticed that the ice was about half off of Foster Reservoir. Too bad the idiot canal company killed all the fish in it. Hopefully that means some of the other lakes in the area are opening up though. I began my way up the canyon and soon found myself trapped behind a road grader. I eventually got past the rumbling behemoth and made it to a long slow moving stretch that I thought might harbor some walleye. I didn't find any, but I did get to try my new spinning rod. Very nice, it casts like a dream and is ultra sensitive. One interesting thing was that I noticed a large pontoon with two people and a bunch of equipment on board was running down this run. I also noticed a truck driving very slowly with a radio transmitter hanging out the driver's side window pointing at the river. I wonder what kind of fish they were tracking? After 40 minutes of picking moss off my jig I decided to drive upstream and switch over to fly gear. I got down to the water and noticed clouds of midges and bwos coming off. I thought the fish would be going nuts, but oddly I didn't get a single hit or see a fish in several good stretches of water. I kept moving ahead and eventually encountered a very large sucker beached on the rocks and gasping for life. I remember seeing the same thing up here last March. Strange. I also found a smaller 20" sucker lying lifeless a little ways upstream. Just after that I saw my first trout, but they were acting weird too. They were sitting on the bottom motionless in a few inches of water. I dropped a San Juan Worm literally on one's head, and it didn't even move away. Maybe the DWR had electroshocked? Maybe a bait dunker had happened through recently leaving a swathe of destruction in it's path? I don't know, but thankfully I found active trout before too long. They were slurping in a big slackwater eddy. I tied on a Turk's with a midge emerger below it and worked them. It was hard to tell what was going on because of all the foam and debris on the surface. I switched flies several times and eventually I thought I saw my fly move. I set the hook and was finally fighting a fish. I brought it in only to find it foul hooked in the side with the Turk's. I kept trying different midge and bwo imitations, or at least the closest things I could find in my box, but to no avail. I got fed up and tied a tungsten head #20 green Copper John onto my dropper line. I forged ahead to another eddy. There were a couple of slurpers working the run, and to my surprise, one inhaled my Turk's. It was a healthy holdover rainbow from last year from the look of it. Unfortunately it slipped out of my hand, so no picture. I was almost out of time already, which had me pretty down. I just had to hit the deep riffle just upstream though, and I'm glad I did. I scored three more bows on the Copper John in the next five minutes.


I hurried back to the car and was off to work. Overall kind of a disappointing trip. I'm sure I would have caught quite a few had work not beckoned, but that's the way it goes. I sure hope Idaho starts treating me better.

Final Tally: 5 Rainbow Trout

Year Tally: 88 Fish

A St. Patrick's Day Excursion

3/17/2010

After finally emerging from the BATC Testing Center, tired and bleary eyed, I found myself free in Logan at about 10:45 a.m. with nothing to do until 3:30. Good thing I left my waders and 3/4 wt in the car. After a quick stop for some Code Red and a fruit pie, I drove down to Hyrum once again. I decided to fish the section where I had done so well my first day out two weeks prior. I got on the water at about 11:30, and was surprised when I didn't get a single hit from the first run. I spooked one fish from some heavy brush, but that was all the activity I saw. I kept working my way upstream with no strikes, and very few fish spotted. I reached a classic run that had produced several fish last time, but for the first five minutes, nothing happened. Finally my indicator went down, and I had a nice fish on. I chased it downstream and finally scooped this ugly fellow up in my net.


I released the whitey and fished the run some more. I scored one small brown, and that was it. I was beginning to feel a bit disappointed, but then I reminded myself that it was a bit earlier in the day than before, not to mention daylight savings had made it even earlier as far as the sun was concerned. So I pushed on with no success, until I reached another long deep run. I could see some huge whitefish working the bottom, and I figured they were better than nothing. I drifted my flies over them several times, missing one, before getting a solid hookup. The fish took off downstream, fighting uncharacteristically hard for a whitefish. It got down into the fast water and popped off while trying to net it. I moved back to the tail of the run and decided that with the depth and length of the run that I would switch to a straight up nymphing setup. I left the Golden Carrot's Ear on and added a small midge pupa below it. First cast brought me another whitefish that shot downstream, zigzagging wildly from bank to bank. I eventually netted this lanky rascal.

I ended up taking five more whites out of the run on the Carrot's Ear, and two browns


on the midge. All the whitefish fought much harder than usual, and I was beginning to feel a lot better about the day. The water switched back to pocket water, and I switched back to a dry/dropper. It was getting rather warm now, and I noticed some good bug activity. I tied on a bwo nymph as my bottom fly and scored some decent browns from the next few areas. I worked my way up to a nice long riffle with a deeper run at the head. I scored a small cutt, and then everywhere I cast I found small fingerling cutts checking out my fly but not committing to a take. I worked my way up to the deeper water and had a number of refusals on my Turk's. I decided to change to a smaller foam bodied dry I'd made up last summer, as well as add a new dropper I'll call "The Electric Hare's Ear With a Twist of Lime," down below. I ended up scoring a few more fish, but I had a lot of fish hitting the dropper very quickly, and then letting go before I could hook them, and two of the fish I did hook on it, were foul hooked. It might be a bit much for a sunny day I've decided. Shortly I found myself at another long deep run and I scored this pretty little cutt on my dry.


I had several refusals on the dry before moving on. I worked my way upstream catching a small whitefish and a few more trout before having to head off to work. When I arrived at the car it was downright toasty inside, and I had to use the A/C for the first time this year. Nice.

Final Tally: 21 Browns, Cutts and Whitefish

Year Tally: 83 Fish