The summer fishing season features two of my favorite species in my favorite locations – chasing cutthroat and brook trout in high lakes, beaver ponds and willow creeks.
Given a full day off from my desk job and guiding, a rare treat to be sure, my first pick is the trip to an alpine lake. The primary target here is, in my opinion, the crown jewel of fly fishing – the cutthroat trout.
The trek to a high lake is prone to the whims of Mother Nature and the sneaky approach of the afternoon thunderstorm. In deciding which lake gets my attention, I study the forecast, consider the accessibility and fitness of my vehicle and myself to make the climb.
Some of my frequent trips are to lakes more popular because of the easier access.
They offer a 4-wheel drive road that minimizes the final hike to reach the waters, and eases the potential sprint to safety in the event of a sudden storm. Because of the accessibility, these fish see more pressure and as the season progresses, they become an even more rewarding feat.
Some of my favorite trips are to the lakes that require a more substantial hike and offer a bit more peace and solitude. And often, in turn they offer more eager fish, with more impressive measurements.
The added effort proves added reward: More fish to the net, or the bigger fish that makes you squeal with joy as it makes a run for the deeper water. Each rubied cutthroat well worth the added effort and need for Icy Hot the next day.
Now, when I am not able to escape for the entirety of a day, and the lengthened days of summer allow, I’ll sneak in a half day or evening of fishing heading to the cooler waters a bit above the valley.
Here the brook trout dwell in creeks and beaver ponds.
Frequently far less impressive in size, their eagerness to rise to the dry fly and spectacular pallet of colors provide just as much joy and glee to cap a day of work.
Recently, on a trip to a very dainty willow creek, I spotted a rising fish.
I thoughtfully reviewed the options in my flybox and selected a matching dainty size 18 mayfly.
With my gear ready, I carefully approached the small pool.
A first cast, carefully placed, and my target rose.
I set the hook, and swiftly drew the tiniest fish of my entire season from the current.
I often refer to these little guys as flying fish, as the momentum of the hookset sends them flying overhead while you sort out the needed direction to get them under control.
Wetting my hand and giggling a bit, I managed to get the lovely spotted brookie to my hand.
I caught a few more brook trout to cap the evening, but the joy of the 3-ish inch version really was the highlight of the evening.
It reflected the perfection of the moment – one of my favorite creeks, the pairing of the right fly with the right cast, and the patience to wait for the moment of the hookset – just the rush I had been searching.
As the high lakes, beaver ponds and willow creeks offer only a short window of opportunity, I make use of every chance to cast my line to the fancy beauties of summer.
For every red hued cutthroat or speckled brookie to my net (or hand), I breathe in a bit of the season to hold in memory for the pending cooling of the year.
