Bill Mason
October 1st, 2003, 06:51 AM
After a seemingly endless series of cancelled trips, I finally got the
chance to spend some time fishing the eastern sierra waters around the town
of Mammoth Lakes. This is an annual trip that a group of us takes to mark
the end of summer, and the weather this year was absolutely gorgeous. I
managed to get out of the condo late on the first afternoon and drove the
few miles to one of my favorite little creeks. The sun had already fallen
behind the mountains, and the cool evening air was filled with clouds of
insects...caddisflies and midges that I could not identify, and smaller
numbers of a light colored mayfly. My bug book was still stuffed in some
piece of luggage, but since there seemed to be more caddis on the water than
anything else I tied on a #18 E/C Caddis and quickly picked up a pair of
plump little browns. Now it was a fishing trip! I hiked a couple of
hundred yards downstream, casting to a few more risers as I went, but I
would have to be satisfied with the two fish that I had released a few
minutes earlier. I was.
Ten hours later I was heading south on 395 beneath a clear pre-dawn sky. My
destination was the wild trout section of the lower Owens River just outside
of Bishop, and I was anxious to fish the river for the first time since
January. I had spent a great day on the water with a local guide and
flyshop owner who had patiently helped me with my line handling and mending,
and I hoped that I hadn't forgotten everything I had learned. After a few
fly changes I found the ticket (#20-22 tiger midges), and spent a fantastic
morning hooking and losing more browns that I brought to hand. By the time
I left at noon the air temperature was approaching 90 degrees, but
wet-wading in the waist deep river kept me comfortable. I felt like I was
10 again, even though the disapproving looks I got from some of my
wader-clad brethren told me that I was a hillbilly. Oh well!
I spent the afternoon working my way back to Mammoth, prospecting the tiny
eastside creeks that spill down rugged canyons. One surrendered a couple of
small wild rainbows to a #16 flashback hare's ear and a #16 royal trude,
while on another a screaming kingfisher dive-bombed me as I stealthily
approached a pool. Fish or no fish, it was all good, and my KPOS 3wt was
perfectly suited to the brushy little streams. That evening gave me a
chance to sample Rush Creek below 395 and to catch a few very small browns
on #16 bird's nests. There is far too much water to explore along this
section of the creek in a single evening, and I hope to get back soon. I
had a birthday dinner to attend that night and left the creek just as swarms
of caddis were starting to appear. Damn.
Dinner evolved into a night on the town with friends who my wife and I hadn'
t seen in over a year, and I discovered that extensive collections of single
malts can be found in the least likely of places! Because the following
morning started a little later than planned, a group of us opted for a hike
to McLeod Lake just outside of town. The lake is home to a pure-as-possible
population of Lahontan Cutthroats, and we spent an enjoyable afternoon sight
casting to cruising fish in the shallow end of this pretty little lake.
Casting, it must be emphasized, as opposed to catching. It embarrasses me
to admit it, but only one of these supposedly undiscerning fish was fooled
by my presentation. Several mocked me, though.
That was it. The weekend had raced by much too quickly, but I did finally
get on the water and managed to catch some fish. Good company, beautiful
weather, too much great food and some cooperative trout.not too shabby at
all.
Cheers,
Bill
chance to spend some time fishing the eastern sierra waters around the town
of Mammoth Lakes. This is an annual trip that a group of us takes to mark
the end of summer, and the weather this year was absolutely gorgeous. I
managed to get out of the condo late on the first afternoon and drove the
few miles to one of my favorite little creeks. The sun had already fallen
behind the mountains, and the cool evening air was filled with clouds of
insects...caddisflies and midges that I could not identify, and smaller
numbers of a light colored mayfly. My bug book was still stuffed in some
piece of luggage, but since there seemed to be more caddis on the water than
anything else I tied on a #18 E/C Caddis and quickly picked up a pair of
plump little browns. Now it was a fishing trip! I hiked a couple of
hundred yards downstream, casting to a few more risers as I went, but I
would have to be satisfied with the two fish that I had released a few
minutes earlier. I was.
Ten hours later I was heading south on 395 beneath a clear pre-dawn sky. My
destination was the wild trout section of the lower Owens River just outside
of Bishop, and I was anxious to fish the river for the first time since
January. I had spent a great day on the water with a local guide and
flyshop owner who had patiently helped me with my line handling and mending,
and I hoped that I hadn't forgotten everything I had learned. After a few
fly changes I found the ticket (#20-22 tiger midges), and spent a fantastic
morning hooking and losing more browns that I brought to hand. By the time
I left at noon the air temperature was approaching 90 degrees, but
wet-wading in the waist deep river kept me comfortable. I felt like I was
10 again, even though the disapproving looks I got from some of my
wader-clad brethren told me that I was a hillbilly. Oh well!
I spent the afternoon working my way back to Mammoth, prospecting the tiny
eastside creeks that spill down rugged canyons. One surrendered a couple of
small wild rainbows to a #16 flashback hare's ear and a #16 royal trude,
while on another a screaming kingfisher dive-bombed me as I stealthily
approached a pool. Fish or no fish, it was all good, and my KPOS 3wt was
perfectly suited to the brushy little streams. That evening gave me a
chance to sample Rush Creek below 395 and to catch a few very small browns
on #16 bird's nests. There is far too much water to explore along this
section of the creek in a single evening, and I hope to get back soon. I
had a birthday dinner to attend that night and left the creek just as swarms
of caddis were starting to appear. Damn.
Dinner evolved into a night on the town with friends who my wife and I hadn'
t seen in over a year, and I discovered that extensive collections of single
malts can be found in the least likely of places! Because the following
morning started a little later than planned, a group of us opted for a hike
to McLeod Lake just outside of town. The lake is home to a pure-as-possible
population of Lahontan Cutthroats, and we spent an enjoyable afternoon sight
casting to cruising fish in the shallow end of this pretty little lake.
Casting, it must be emphasized, as opposed to catching. It embarrasses me
to admit it, but only one of these supposedly undiscerning fish was fooled
by my presentation. Several mocked me, though.
That was it. The weekend had raced by much too quickly, but I did finally
get on the water and managed to catch some fish. Good company, beautiful
weather, too much great food and some cooperative trout.not too shabby at
all.
Cheers,
Bill