Fishies and Freshies

My wife is always telling me how she wants to move back to northern California, and how beautiful it is there, so I'd been wanting to show my wife more of what Utah has to offer. With the weather looking potentially sketchy I was really having a hard time deciding where we should go. Finally I said 'what the heck' and we packed up and drove down to the boulders. The weather wasn't bad on the way down and it to our dismay it looked like the gnarliest weather was right over Boulder Mtn. Sweet. We started the climb up. The scenery was pretty, but partway up I noticed some very ominous Mammatus Clouds. That's never a good sign. While beautiful, they are almost always attached to a good storm. We continued on.



We found the lake where we planned on camping to be void of any people (suprise suprise) and we began setting up camp in the blustery wind. The lack of any leaves on the trees and the blast of snow came from over the ridge as we setup camp were clear evidence that summer hadn't quite made it above 10,000ft yet. You gotta love the unpredictable weather that the Boulders offer. After some work with a bunch of wet wood and some relatively dry kindling I got our fire going. We ate and got Zev food by headlamp and chilled by the fire. Afterward, we retired to the tent and actually all slept nice and toasty.

In the morning we were met with blue skies and chilly temps. I was up and walking the shoreline in search for cruisers. Let's just say this...I saw absolutely zero cruisers and no signs of fish. I had seen one riser early on and that was the only evidence that there were any fish in this lake at all. Bummer.



A friend had told me to where to find a little lake where he had seen a 5lbs brookie taken a year or so before. After some hiking in the hot sun, we found this little jewel. A couple fly fishers were posted up on the other side. Upon walking up to it I immediately saw a large number of brightly colored Colorado Cutts "cruising" the shallows. I suppose that "cruising" isn't really an accurate term, these fish were in all-out spawn mode and were chasing each other and were absolute lunatics. It was an amazing thing to see. Especially since these fish were not small. There were a few that were easily the largest CRC's I'd ever seen. There were a handful flying around that were above and below the 18-inch mark. Man, were they beautiful. It just goes to show that the lakes on the Boulders are ever-changing.



It wasn't long before the sun turned to rain. Pouring rain. Now, with a wife and little man, taking shelter under a tree, the pressure to go was pretty urgent. It was a huge weight on my shoulders as I wanted to be selfish and get one of these beauties to hand. There was a deeper end where I could see an occassional riser. In what felt like a whirlwind of both emotions and actual weather, I ended up hooking into a couple but failed to get them to hand as we waited for a clearing in the weather. It wasn't long before the lady made it clear that we had to depart. I was bummed that I wasn't able to land one but I new I'd be back.

Before we left I saw something that really bothered me. Rant Warning!!! Some gear chuckin' chuckos roll up and post up where the ffers had been when we first arrived. As we were preparing to leave one of them pulled in a thick male. He had to be 19" and thick. My blood boiled as I saw him gill gaffed and put on a stringer. WTF!!!!! This is a pet peeve of mine. First, lets get one thing clear: I don't have a problem with people killing an keeping fish. BUT I do have a problem when people do not use discretion when doing so. There are so many places people can go to limit out. I just do not understand the mindset of coming to a little jewel such as this (beautiful and most likely used as a broodstock), and keeping your limit (and what looked like more) of a fish that is so rare and struggling in our state. I had no idea what the "limit" was on this particular water but I'm pretty sure these gentlemen were going over. Needless to say, I was pissed.

I had been wanting to get the wife more and more exposure to fly fishing and as far as fishing goes, this trip had been a bust so far. On the way down the mountain we drove along side a small stream. I new it would have eager little fish in it and asked if she'd be down with stopping for a minute or two and trying her hand. She agreed. The stream was tiny. I tied on an ant pattern and tested the water. Sure enough, the fish seemed eager to smash the little morsel. I got one and trader her the fly rod for the little fly boy. I coached her and she giggled and screamed as the tiny fish came up and crashed her fly.



We didn't stay long, but she managed to land a handful of beautiful tiny cutts. I told her to imagine the same type of scenario only with fish that you actually had to fight to bring in. I think she began to see why I'm so obsessed. As we drove home I reflected on how much fun we'd had on that tiny little stream and secretly hoped that she had caught the sickness...

Already this year we'd put some time into fishing this challenging water. Derek and I are addicted. We're determined to figure out all the ins and outs and ultimately get to witness the ultra pigs that this water holds. After running it through the chain of command a good friend of mine, Matt, drove up to join us for some spring fishing.

We met up at the usual spot at the usual time. We were all amped for an epic day. We got permission from the ladies to stay till 8pm. We talked fish the entire drive out and arrived as it was rapidly getting lighter. The weather wasn't bad as we rolled up, but we knew we'd be in for some rain and junk. Either way it didn't matter. It was gonna be an epic day with two really good friends. Matt just started his fly fishing addiction a few months prior and has been frequently fishing some of the great skinny waters that southern Utah has to offer. After his short time fishing he was completely stoked to try and chase some pigs. He asked advice on fly choice and we all rigged up some streamers. It wasn't long before Derek got bent. As the sky lightened none of us had much luck as we eagerly stripped our bugs. We opted for some fly changes.

Derek and I have been putting in a lot of time into trying to figure out this tough water. I switched over to a rig that we had found to be quite productive. I walked over and scoped a bankline that I like to see a nice male cuttie cruising less than a foot off the bank in about eight inches of water. I'd seen this fish before and gotten snubbed. I got into position and made my cast about six feet in front of him as he slowly cruised away from me. I made a few short stips and the fish spotted the
chunkly little morsel that I had tied up especially for him and his fat buddies. He quickened his cruise and I felt my line stop. I set the hook and he took off. Yes! It was gonna be a good day. As I got him closer I saw just how beautiful he was. One of the fish I'd been waiting for.

I gave Matt one of my chunky little morsels and we
worked the spot together. A few minutes went by and I was interupted by a somewhat confused Matt. "I...I got one?!" The water erupted and as quickly as it began it was over. Matt threw his rod down and held back the eff bombs. I completely empathized that feeling of getting this close to getting what you've been dreaming about. He got busted off. I was so bummed. I was really excited for him to get his first tiger and get his first big fish. It wasn't long before I heard him yell to me. Yes! It was still early and we all had the skunk off our backs. Now it was time to get to work.

It was Derek's turn. Derek always comes through. We got a yell from a ways down the bank. A fat lady with a hunchback. The fishing continued to be pretty sweet and time actually seemed to go slower than usual. I got excited everytime I looked at my watch to see that the day was already so radical and we still got over ten hours of fishing left!

Derek told us he was going to go fish another part of the lake. After a while a shrill, girl-like scream broke the silence telling us to come over. As we approached I saw in his net one of the biggest trout I'd ever laid eyes on (the last biggest fish I'd ever seen was one he caught last fall). He'd done it again. We were so stoked. We high-fived and just stared at the beautiful lady he had coaxed into his net. I shot some photos and we sent her on her way to be hooked by us again next year when she's even bigger. It was only 10am and the day had already been epic.