Going Deep

[Lone Wulff]

The plan was to hike in to the place I usually stop fishing on about 75% of the occasions, and start fishing from there. This would allow me to fish an area I don’t make it to very often, and then continue on into an area I rarely get to explore – the remote mid-section of the creek – the farthest point to access from either end.


Things started off well enough with rainbows and browns coming to hand regularly.




The creek eventually split around an island. At the lower end was an area that was almost too slow and too shallow to hold anything but small, yearling fish that had been relegated to the marginal water. That’s what I thought anyways. But hey, I was there so why not make a cast. You never know. The main current headed straight down stream, but a slight side current drifted off to the side and along the front of an overhanging rock.


I cast my dry-dropper about 18 inches in front of the rock and as it drifted downstream, something shot out from beneath it and slammed the dropper. I dinged him on the hookset, but wasn’t able to make it stick. I thought for sure I blew my chance, but I waited a few seconds and cast again. And he went after it again. I guess he was hungry. Funny, he didn’t look hungry.


A short while later, I came across another intriguing rock. Note the overhanging rhododendrons. That’s right, you guessed it.

As my fly drifted through the channel along the rock, another brown slammed the dropper. At some point during the battle I jammed my rod into the rhodos and wasn’t able to keep the line tight as it ran upstream. Fish off.

At this point, the wheels started to fall off of the adventure. Every time prior to this I had always fished up the left side of the island. There’s a lot of good water through here. I had never fished it, but I’ve always been curious about the water along the right side. (The grass might be greener?) Today I did both sides. I jumped back and forth as I worked upstream. At one of the crossing points the island had a three foot high bank. As I approached it, I tripped and did a face-plant into a boulder and scraped my chin. I was lucky on this one - it could have been a lot worse. I was stunned more than hurt.

Once across the island, I stepped into a shallow, crystalline run.


A fish rose and I cast to it. Wham! A small rainbow.


I cast again. Something else attacked the dry, but I missed the hookset and my flies ended up in a tree behind me ten feet above the water. I have a lot of experience in this arena so I knew enough to do the right thing. I laid my rod on the bank several feet away from the task I was about to undertake. It was a good thing. I balanced on top of a rock that protruded above the water. I pulled on the trunk of the tree to bend it over so I could reach the flies and it snapped. Suddenly, my world had turned upside-down.

I fell over backwards and landed flat on my back in the water. I flopped around in an effort to get back into my own environment (now I know how a fish feels). The branches crashed down on top of me. I eventually shed the branches and regained my footing. Luckily, once again, I was more stunned than hurt. But, I was pissed and I let a few choice words fly. I can’t believe that the fish would have heard all the commotion, but I didn’t get another strike for the next two hundred yards upstream – on either side of the island. Who knows? Maybe they were laughing too hard to bite.

Above the island is a series of or four or five large plunge pools interspersed with short stretches of pocket water. I’ve fished this stretch eight or ten times over the years. As good as this water looks, I rarely catch fish through here – even on days when the rest of the stream is fishing great. Maybe it just looks better to me than it does to the fish. The first pool is about three or four feet deep and there is an undercut rock ledge across the tailout. The slower water alongside the main current is boulder strewn. A small eddy rotates counter-clockwise to the right of the current where it dumps into the pool. There are plenty of places for a trout to hold in here. I made numerous casts with the dry-dropper I had on without getting a strike. At this point I decided to focus on the deeper pools and forgo the shallow pocket water and runs in between. I tied on a dredger nymph and an indicator. I took a few more casts to the first pool without a strike before moving on.


At this point, things changed. The next pool gave up a plump rainbow.


The pool after that gave up three more rainbows.


The final pool is the deepest and calmest in this series. There is a garage sized boulder at the head of it where the current tumbles in. The current fans out and flows enticingly along its face. A submerged ledge runs along the left side of the pool then curves out into the current at the downstream end.

I set my indicator at about six feet and went to work. Today, this pool gave itself to me. I caught six fish including a brilliantly colored 11 inch rainbow. Its red stripe flashed vibrantly as it streaked through the sunlit pool. The picture doesn’t do it justice.


After that, they stopped biting. But before moving on, I raised my indicator another foot or so and took a few more casts. Sometimes something as simple as this can persuade another fish or two to strike. That was the case today. I quickly landed two more rainbows before they quit altogether.


I pulled a total of eight fish out of the final pool. That is unheard of on a wild trout stream around here. I caught a total of 12 or 13 fish through this stretch – far more than I ever had before. I guess this water really is as good as it looks. This place is gonna haunt me ‘til I can get back here.

Upstream of the plunge pools is a stretch of water that I only fished on one occasion previously. It is a mix of smaller plunge pools, pocket water and runs.




It contains mostly browns.






I finally arrived at a large pool. This was my final destination – the midpoint between the upper and lower access points. It’s a large pool about 75 feet long. The main current is well defined. It skirts a steeply sloped rock face for a long distance before curving into the center of the pool at the lower end.


The plan was to throw a woolly bugger up against the wall and rip it through the current and into the slower water as I worked my way up to the head. However, as I stood at the bottom of the pool, I could see fish rising in the slower water just outside of the current tongue. I opted to leave the dry-dropper on. I caught two more browns and a ‘bow before calling it quits.




Despite the mishaps, it turned out to be a really great day. It was everything I had hoped for – X3.

[ksbioteacher]

Lady Slippers and trout. That is living. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the mishaps--I wouldn't want to feel any guilt for finding the situations amusing. I've been there too many times myself.

[ACLakey]

I have come to the conclusion you have very small hands. Nice fish, looks like a great place.

[adam]

I really enjoyed this.

Thank you for sharing your adventure.

[skyfireblaze]

Fantastic pictures and write-up. Reading this has made my day!

[Mostyn]

Marvelous report, I so enjoyed reading through it; and seeing the photos. Those fish were all in wonderful condition! I also know the feeling of taking an impromptu dip, slip and fall; makes you feel like Bambi on ice! But, so pleased you didn't hurt yourself! Look forward to your next report.

[Zanko]

Great pictures, great fish thank you....Don't feel bad I have fallen more times than I can count hiking in and out of canyon's / slippery rocks.

[Alpinefly]

Beautiful Pictures. The kind of trip I like. I have had my share of falls; just a part of the negative. There is more positive then negative though !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[flickfly]

Beautiful water& Trout. My kinda water

[ofuros]

my heart's beating a little faster....it ticks all my boxes....enjoyed your stream adventure.