Ah yes… Back up in the hills, back up in altitude, back to fresh air and fresh water, back up to snow and alpine peaks, and most importantly, back up to the Cutthroat that reside in that pristine world. All is right and perfect until that moment you realize it is a couple more miles to your destination. Those miles more filled than the previous miles with steeper climbs and other obstacles that tax the already burning muscles. Some might say a trip for the more rugged man, but it is a trip for the focused. One would never make it hiking alongside a river loaded to the brim with fish. Not that anyone in the party knew at the time, but you could tell the pools held fish and scores of them had never been caught. Keep moving past the perfect glacier water, past the porcupine munching on leafy greens, past the rock that curved around into the valley that held the lake.
Both the inlet and outlet to the lake seemed perfect. I’m sure every fisherman that continued this way knew the same. The Cutthroat knew and denied scores of flies. Partially because they were aware and partially because the meals were readily available. This combo always results in poor fishing. Not for John, the one in the group newest to fly fishing. This was truly his day. For Sanders and I, it was punishing. The fish were so quick to attack and quick to let go that it seemed as though we were doing everything wrong. Bumps on the indicator resulted in a fly with no fish attached and the dries seemed to just drift through the mouths of the fish.
Sanders, John, and I dined on bagel sandwiches for lunch and decided that it would be better for us to fish the inlet. Another walk past fishy water. The inlet showed us mercy and it wasn’t long before we were all into fish. The water was skinny and loaded with hungry cruising and rising fish. It seemed like the fish were still strangely attracted to John, who threw everything from giant hoppers to san juan worms. While Sanders and I were stuck with tiny midges and dries.
I was happy that Sanders made his way into the Greenback club. The first one is always the hardest, but on the way down he scored a few more. Even after his back injury, I’m glad he was able to join us on our mission of Cutthroats and maybe he will find himself on a few more back country adventures before the year is through.
September 9th, 2011 at 5:22 pm
Beautiful country and fish. One of these days…
Ben
September 9th, 2011 at 7:46 pm
One of these days indeed. The fish will still be waiting for you Ben!
September 9th, 2011 at 8:50 pm
Beautiful country and super fish. I thoroughly enjoyed that trip.
September 9th, 2011 at 8:56 pm
I’m glad we had a virtual member in the party. If I had known, I would’ve brought an extra bagel sandwich.
September 10th, 2011 at 10:03 am
I am ready for the next adventure for sure! I had a great time getting my ass handed to me by those hungry fish…bring it on!
September 10th, 2011 at 7:22 pm
Sanders, you know we’re meeting in the middle this time. Maybe some fall browns are in the forecast.
September 10th, 2011 at 10:16 am
backcountry trek? check. craggy peaks? check. pristine waters? check. portly greenbacks? check and mate. good work gents, need moar.
September 10th, 2011 at 7:25 pm
Thanks Mike! The fish are getting fatter after the long winter. I’ll be working on getting more this weekend.
September 10th, 2011 at 4:42 pm
So beautiful…sometimes it’s hard to believe they are real.
September 10th, 2011 at 7:26 pm
The high mountain water, or the fish?
September 10th, 2011 at 7:31 pm
The fish…but really, both…
September 14th, 2011 at 8:02 pm
Great photos, amazing fish. So totally different than our landscape out here!
September 14th, 2011 at 11:57 pm
I checked out the blog, dig it. Yeah, just a little different isn’t it?