As I rode my bike from the small town in which I work to the lake that I planned to fish for a little bit, I was greeted with a gorgeous sight as the fog gave way to a sunny valley where the mirror smooth lake reflected the skies and the glaciers towering high above it.
I sat down and watched as brown trout rose and plucked newly emerged caddis while I got myself ready, knowing full well that when there’s no wind the fish are much much harder to catch, especially brown trout.
Luckily for me, just as I began to walk towards the shore a slight breeze began blowing, making the fishing much easier. I began casting a chironomid larvae and pupa with no luck, and switched to a small stickleback streamer, and fished along the weed beds, which had grown considerably since the last time I was there, only a few days ago.
I fished the streamer until I got to a small bay where fish were rising to emergers, so I decided to try a team of a caddis balloon emerger and a small green caddis pupa. At first, not used to fishing dry flies at lakes, kept looking for the fly, with no luck, and I kept twitching it a little so I’d see it. It wasn’t until by accident, where I just let the two flies sit there while I took in the gorgeous mountain scenery, when I noticed a rise in the general area where my fly was supposed to be, and I set the hook. The fish goes berserk, and ran deep into the backing of my three weight as he took off towards them middle of the lake, and then came speeding back towards me, and had to run up on the bank to keep the line from going slack, all while reeling in like crazy. Finally after a couple more runs I got the trout landed, a much smaller specimen than I expected from such a fight, but the reason may have been that he was hooked in the belly by the dropper fly. So he’d gone for the emerger, I probably set the hook too soon and pulled it out of its mouth while the pupa dug into its stomach. Kind of a bummer, but the gorgeousness of the fish made up for it all.
As soon as this fish was released I cast again, and it did not take many seconds before the fly was viciously attacked again, and after a considerably less energetic battle I landed a similar sized trout, and once again, the hook was not in its mouth. This time, the hook wasn’t even in the fish, but he was tangled in the leader between the two flies. Again I’d probably struck too soon. This one looked kind of strange, maybe because he was very plumpy..
After that I lost three fish in quick succession, and started looking for other places that would have fish, so I walked along the bank casting to risers until one struck my fly hard, and ran deep into the lake. My three weight Redington Tempt was bent to the cork as I fought to land this beast that I thought it was.
But soon I landed the fish and it turned out to be a silvery sea trout. One of the smaller ones that travel in and out of the system, sort of like the Icelandic equivalent of a half-pounder steelhead.
I was pleasantly surprised by this fish, and quickly released it. This one had been hooked properly, so I complimented myself on the good hookup.
After that everything died down. One or two trout rose here and there, and just before I left I hooked a trout on a scudzilla. But I left the lake biking on my bike singing Blur songs on the way home, much to the confusion of the people driving past me.
Where am I even headed here?
Hooked in the stomach by the green caddis just above it’s head to the left.
Absolutely one of the prettiest fish I’ve caught.
Caddis pupa with fish scales.. Evidence of my bad hooking techniques.
Fatty getting some lazy rest before swimming away.