Joey Bagels
Well-known member
Work once again found me north of my sweltering swampland of Tejas. I haven’t been fishing in months for all sorts of reasons. All that changed this weekend. Landing in Salt Lake City to see clouds filled with smoke from fires EVERYWHERE, I began my journey undaunted. Wyoming beckoned.
I miss this splendid isolation. In Tejas, there’s ALWAYS somebody nearby. Not so here. The locals are to be found, but they tend to be quiet and keep to themselves.
Friday evening, I checked out a small, high plains alkaline lake that used to crank out good sized fish for me and my buddies in the 1990’s.
No fish rose. No sign of aquatic life at all. But I did see some ducks, shorebirds, a skunk, and lots of rabbits. Coyotes called in the distance. I never even strung up the rod. That would come tomorrow evening after work.
The next day went as planned and I finished up on time and headed to another lake that used to produce back in the days of Nirvana and Beavis and Butthead. I inflated my tube, donned my waders and fins and kicked off into the sunset. Literally.
The sky was pastel-smeared with smoke from all the infernos to the south.
A few casts with a bugger yielded this:
First fish from this lake in 25 years. Not bad. The evening grew quieter and darker and the fish went absolutely bananas.
Rainbows and cutthroats all from 17-20” and fat. As it got darker, I was literally catching a fish on every cast. Unbelievable!
I was pretty much in heaven. No concerns about work or the world or anything. Just cast, strip, strip, strip...STRIKE, reel, release. Life is best when it’s simple. I finally headed in and back to my lodging. The next morning would be early....
...because I wanted to be on the water before sunrise.
The fish weren’t as aggressive in the morning. Midgets and a few caddis were hatching and the rises were sporadic. Nothing regular. After a few minutes, I switched to a Rickards’ peacock Callibaetis.
First cast...BAM.
The cutthroat in this lake have a clever habit of diving straight down into the weeds and burrowing in. Sometimes you bring them in with some salad. Sometimes, you only get the salad.
The sun grew higher and the cows were being harassed by bulls. Some pelicans showed up and began patrolling the shore. The fish kept rising and eating flies.
All too soon, it was time to go. Work obligations called. I gave thanks to the fish gods for these precious hours on the water. They will nourish me during the hours spent in traffic, sitting in meetings, dealing with household repairs, and all the other “important” stuff that comprises adult life.
Kings need their thrones and rich men need their big houses. I need an inflatable chair, some flies, and hungry trout.
The locals found me a curiosity, but nothing to be concerned about.
Nothing at all.
I appreciate their sentiment.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
I miss this splendid isolation. In Tejas, there’s ALWAYS somebody nearby. Not so here. The locals are to be found, but they tend to be quiet and keep to themselves.
Friday evening, I checked out a small, high plains alkaline lake that used to crank out good sized fish for me and my buddies in the 1990’s.
No fish rose. No sign of aquatic life at all. But I did see some ducks, shorebirds, a skunk, and lots of rabbits. Coyotes called in the distance. I never even strung up the rod. That would come tomorrow evening after work.
The next day went as planned and I finished up on time and headed to another lake that used to produce back in the days of Nirvana and Beavis and Butthead. I inflated my tube, donned my waders and fins and kicked off into the sunset. Literally.
The sky was pastel-smeared with smoke from all the infernos to the south.
A few casts with a bugger yielded this:
First fish from this lake in 25 years. Not bad. The evening grew quieter and darker and the fish went absolutely bananas.
Rainbows and cutthroats all from 17-20” and fat. As it got darker, I was literally catching a fish on every cast. Unbelievable!
I was pretty much in heaven. No concerns about work or the world or anything. Just cast, strip, strip, strip...STRIKE, reel, release. Life is best when it’s simple. I finally headed in and back to my lodging. The next morning would be early....
...because I wanted to be on the water before sunrise.
The fish weren’t as aggressive in the morning. Midgets and a few caddis were hatching and the rises were sporadic. Nothing regular. After a few minutes, I switched to a Rickards’ peacock Callibaetis.
First cast...BAM.
The cutthroat in this lake have a clever habit of diving straight down into the weeds and burrowing in. Sometimes you bring them in with some salad. Sometimes, you only get the salad.
The sun grew higher and the cows were being harassed by bulls. Some pelicans showed up and began patrolling the shore. The fish kept rising and eating flies.
All too soon, it was time to go. Work obligations called. I gave thanks to the fish gods for these precious hours on the water. They will nourish me during the hours spent in traffic, sitting in meetings, dealing with household repairs, and all the other “important” stuff that comprises adult life.
Kings need their thrones and rich men need their big houses. I need an inflatable chair, some flies, and hungry trout.
The locals found me a curiosity, but nothing to be concerned about.
Nothing at all.
I appreciate their sentiment.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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