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Posts Tagged ‘Brook Trout’

Back in the day, when these two toeheads (below) went with their Dad up to the mountains ( and desert) in a beat up 1953, powder blue Ford, woody (he liked powder blue, go figure)…this was the stomping ground…

And, yes it looked about this beat up – without the board on top….

PT and twin Greg after a day on Lone Pine Creek…1955

If one starts at the bottom of the map,after enlarging , by clicking on the MAP, one sees the following creeks: Tuttle, Lone Pine, Hogback, George, Bairs, Shepherd and Symmes. All of these small waters hold fish – some of them hold very large Brown and Rainbow Trout…One, holds Golden Trout hybrids…I have been fishing in all the waters since 1952…YIKES

It was in these places that I learned how to read water, discern holding and feeding areas, explore the wonderful world of Entomology and avoid being bitten by buzzworms. Over the course of the next few months, I will relate some experiences on each of these cricks and give tips on how to fish some locationswith your kids and Fly gear… These two BOZOS got their creds. crawling around in the bushes and immersing themselves in the project at hand…

Michael and Ally on a learning expedition in the middle of Lone Pine Creek…

It was certainly a lot more fun that posing for ridiculous publicity photos, in the front yard, with my MOTHER:

 Here is additional information from the Bishop Chamber Of Commerce

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Georges Creek Sand Trap…

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My kids, Ally and Michael at the Lone Pine Creek Sand Trap…

 

 

/TB

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The first time I introduced my son to Fly Fishing was on Father’s Day weekend in June, 1987. Jean and I went to Bridgeport, CA to try our luck at Virginia Lakes, the East Walker River and Green Creek. Michael was four at the time and was required to put on an overly large orange life jacket to go out in a boat on the waters of Little Virginia Lake. He looked like the “stay puffed” marshmallow man… Michael has a video of this excursion, that Jean put together, which I will post herein when he brings it to me and shows his computer illiterate Father how to do it…There is a portion of the clip in which I bring a dry, # 18, beetle caught Trout to the boat, lift it up and swing it back – boinking the tot directly in the kisser..what an intro to FF!!!

This is PT, Michael and “PINKY” at the Mt. Whitney Fish Hatchery, near Independence, CA on Oak Creek, in 1985. I weaned the “Moo” on trips to this location so he could see the life cycle of hatchery raised Trout. He always got a nickel to buy the little brown pellets to feed to the brood stock in the pond behind us. That is where Michael saw his first “rising” big fish…

Michael -AKA: “MOO”, scoping out the Brook Trout in a holding pen…

I believe that to get kids interested in Fly Fishing, they must first have the experience of feeling the tug of a Trout on the end of their line. This is Michael on a trip to lone Pine, CA with PT and my Father at the Symms Creek Sandtrap. This a great location to introfish with kids – swivel, bubble, 5x tippet , #20 treble hook and POWERBAIT… the fish are stockers…My Dad would chide Michael by saying, “You puttin’ bubble gum on that hook again?“…

An “older”Michael works a Seal Bugger with a “bubble” set-up at the Lone Pine Creek sand trap…

My first Tout was caught on a Bamboo pole with an Eagle Claw hook in a pond at the Sportsman’s Lodge on Ventura Blvd. in Studio City, CA using bread dough…

It did not look like this back in the early 1950’s…but it was really close – I could ride my bike down the hill to get there…

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Later, in June 1987, Jean, Michael and I spent a long camping weekend up at Monache Meadows, on the South Fork of the Kern River. Michael went out with me and learned how to drift a cripple Caddis behind boulders to entice the Golden/Rainbow hybrids up and out of their lairs…

Michael, crashed out after a nice long hike up along the South Fork of the Kern River..

Within a year, Michael had learned how to tie a Uni Knot and set up his rig for Fly Fishing. His next trip up to Monache resulted in his first Golden – unassisted…

“MOO” with his first Golden Trout…

Working the water on the South Fork of the Kern…with a Winston 7 1/2′ Fiberglass Rod and Hardy Reel..

Michael learned how to “read” water by walking directly down the middle of Lone Pine Creek, below Mt. Whitney with a fly rod, six inches of 5x tippet, #20 treble hook and, salmon eggs or red worms. Here he is instructing his sister Ally on the method…

When we were not fishing, we pursued another favorite pastime – looking for arrowheads in the blistering heat of the Qwens Valley…

Michael sucking on a Villa Rica, GA product standing at “Charlie’s Butte” in the Owens Valley…

Michael soon learned the fine art of nymphing, swinging wet flies, dry fly tactics and bugger and streamer draggin’. Here, he works a wet along the bank of the East Walker River in Bridgeport, CA using a 10′, 5wt, Scott “G” Series and a RAM Caddis…

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Ally, of course, was not to be left out. While Michael fished with a fly and bubble on Trumbull Lake, Ally went to the bubble and POWERBAIT technique which netted her this nice Rainbow stocker which she allowed her brother to hold…

Through the years, Michael has become quite accomplished at FF…here is a series of his experiences on some wonderful rivers, creeks and lakes throughout the West…

Michael at Hot Creek,CA…

Michael with his “Alpers” Trout at Little Virginia Lake, Bridgeport, CA…

Michael and Ally overlooking the Madison River Valley after a “FINE” meal at the Continental Divide in Ennis, MT…

Michael and Ally getting ready to wet a line at North Lake, Bishop, CA in the snow…

Cookie munchers at the Palisades, along the Madison River on a very cold and windy day…

Michael and Ally after a day of FF on the Boulder River, MT….

Michael on the Boulder River, MT…

Michael, freaking Ally out with a gift on the Stillwater River, MT…

Rigging a Wooly Bugger, Owens River, below Five Bridges…

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Michael, working an # 18 H & L Variant on the Stillwater River, MT during a PMD hatch…

 

H & L Variant ( Hammer Creek Fly Fishing )

In the Madison River, below Varney Bridge, Cameron, MT…

With a nice Brown, imitating Brad Pitt, above $3.00 Bridge, Madison River, MT…

Mike big Fish

A feisty Brown on The Madison…

“Which Fly should I use, Dad”,,,Wild Trout Section, Owens River…

Stillwater River, MT…a fish to hand…

“One last cast, Dad?”…Zipping a Seal Bugger with a Fly and Bubble, Lone Pine Creek Sand Trap…

DR’S SEAL BUGGER:

Creme Brule at the Continental Divide in Ennis, MT…

Michael’s “other” favorite pastime, Absarokee, MT…

In the “Honey Hole”, Madison River, MT…

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Fishing up through a run on the Lower Owens River, Bishop, CA…

Michael on the West Walker River, above Bridgeport, CA…

PT makes a pit stop on the Owens River, below Five Bridges…

Angelo and Michael on the Lower Owens River…

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That Place…

Hot Creek, as an adult…

A freezing day on the Upper Owens River…

On the East Walker River…shmutz on the Fly…

Michael and Ally on the Madison River…

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Goose Lake, looking for the Obsidian thingees that are pointy…

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Chest high in the Wild Trout Section, Owens River…

The GIFT I got….

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“Children may fail to listen to what you say, they will NEVER fail to watch what you do “…

PT/TB


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The next day was the day the NY Yankees beat the Dodgers 5-3 in their third World Series game. I know, my Father insisted on my listening to it on the radio.

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My Dad, his Grandson Michael and Jean Marie Hon

We departed West Yellowstone at 5:00AM. I wanted to drive straight through to Bridgeport and spend Saturday and Sunday there before returning to work. A heavy snow was falling and the visibility was zero on our journey to Ashton, ID. It took us three hours to make the drive. By now, the snow had turned to a drizzling rain. As we passed through Idaho Falls, the skies began to clear and we made excellent time to Battle Mountain, NV. We stopped in Austin for a quick burger and cruised South to Hawthorne then on to Yerington which is the back way to Bridgeport.

In fading sunlight we drove past Bridgeport Reservoir and into town. We checked in at The Walker River Lodge and met Mary who, along with her husband and daughters, owned the lodge. I glanced at the wall behind the check- in counter and saw a commemorative plaque that had been given to Mary by a team from the 10th SFG (ABN) the previous year. She told me that these guys had come to the Marine Cold Weather Center to train the jarheads in cold weather OPS (it figures).

This was the first of many times I have stayed at the WRL. I had come up from Bishop a couple of times to fish the East Walker but had not stayed overnight. The next morning, we had a hearty breakfast at the Sportsman’s and then traveled South to Green Creek Road. Green Creek is situated in a high, alpine valley. My favorite section of the creek is just where the road starts into the valley, near a giant, collection of glacial boulders. This area has beaver ponds and slow moving water.

Green Creek, in it’s upper reach, above the meadow…

When we arrived, it was cold. A frost covered the grass and the leaves on the Aspen trees had already turned bright shades of yellow, orange and gold. I wore my silly hat which still itched.

Green Creek, in the meadow…

My small Winston was perfect for this water. I rigged a 12 ft., 5X leader to the 4WT DT line, pulled a Sierra Brite Dot # 18 from my fly box , added 12 inches of 6X tippet material to the leader and tied on the fly with a UNI knot. I waded into the tail of the first pool slowly, being careful not to push a wake or stir up the silt on the stream bottom. I began casting to the head of a log jam where the water spilled in.

When the fly floated to the water’s surface, two shadows streaked up from the darkness under the wood pile. I gave the rod a gentle lift and was firmly attached to a spunky 12 inch Brook Trout. I worked the fish quickly downstream, grasped it while turning it upside down, pulled the barbless hook from the corner of it’s jaw and gently released it back into the pool. I caught and released several other nice fish as I worked up through a series small ponds – both Brookies and Browns. The Brookies were radiant in their spawning colors.

Green Creek, where the beaver dams have widened the stream flow…

About noon, I had come to a place where the creek meanders through a large meadow. I switched to a # 18 beetle and bounced it off the bank. There was just enough over hanging grass to provide some cover and shade over the undercut bank even though the sun was high in the sky. On my first cast, I watched as a good sized fish drifted upwards ever so slowly towards the imitation. I took up slack and finally, after what seemed like five minutes, the fish nudged then sucked down the fly. All hell broke loose. The fish ran up stream as the little Hardy buzzed, It dove under the opposite bank and sulked. I could not move it, I gave the fish slack then pushed upstream reeling in line. Approaching where the leader entered the water, the fish suddenly burst from beneath the bank, raced below me, catapulted through the surface and cartwheeled twice.

The hook and leader held and after a time , I was able to net a husky 19″ Brown. The fish had taken the fly deeply. I finally removed the fly and spent the next five minutes holding the fish in my cupped hands, moving it back and forth in the water. I opened my hands and the Brown finned it’s way up the creek.

That was the largest fish I have ever caught in Green Creek

Soon, my Dad walked up the road and asked if I was ready to leave. He was hungry. We drove back down the mountain to Bridgeport and after lunch, I dropped him at the motel. He said he wanted to watch game 4 of the Series.

I spent the rest of the day fishing on the East Walker River with streamers. I took eight nice fish using a black and white marabou – the largest, another 19″ Brown. That one was caught in the meadow section, in the tail out behind the little island (for those of you who fished there before 1987).

When I returned, my Dad told me the Dodgers lost again.

It was a good day….

A few fish from the East Walker River, 1977…

The rest of my ongoing story is here:

PLANETTROUT

PT/TB

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