The lake trout of Boulder Lake
in Wyoming
have always given me trouble. These over
grown char are weird. Rather than spending
most of their lives down deep preying on other fish like normal lakers, these big
fellas are often found in shallow water feeding on nymphs over weed beds. I know this because I’ve been fishing Boulder Lake (mostly through the ice) for over
20 years. Nonetheless, whenever I first
arrive there I always find myself dredging the depths with my usual laker
tactics.
Speaking of usual lake trout
tactics, mine are plain and simple, get a big white, chartreuse or yellow
colored fly as deep as you can in a place that lakers feed. The best laker feeding grounds are bars or
humps surrounded by deep water. Here in
the Rockies, a bar in 40 to 80ft of water is
ideal. Of course getting a fly this deep
is a task. But before you even worry
about that, keep in mind lakers often ambush suspended fish well above
them. Your fly doesn’t necessarily need
to get all the way down to them. If a
hungry laker sees your fly 30ft above he may charge up and get it.
Lake trout can get huge so I break
out my big sticks. This weekend I had
two rods rigged. One was my Ross RX 9’
8-weight. Attached to it was my F1 reel
loaded with a WF – 300 – S Streamer Express.
This reel can stop a permit and the line gets me down 20ft easily. My second rod was my RX 7-weight with an
Evolution LT Reel. On this reel was my
Uniform Sink Type 5 Line. If I hooked a
20lb laker I could be out matched, but this line flat out sinks and gets me in
the zone fast and the 7 is a new rod of mine and it’s extremely enjoyable to
cast.
Granny and I arrived at
Boulder Lake Monday evening. We have a
killer campsite right on the lake that we haven’t been to in years. We can literally launch my boat off our
private little beach. It was a balmy 60º and we munched some dogs and drank wine well past sunset.
Early yesterday morning I
awoke to flicker hammering on our cooler.
I sat up in the back of the Explorer and looked out on the lake. Things looked perfect. We had a slight wind from the north creating
the perfect chop to put fish on the feed.
I brewed some coffee and woke up Granny.
20 minutes later I was dunking flies up the north end of the lake.
Rather than bore you with a
full day about getting our *** totally kicked, I’ll just tell you, WE GOT OUR
*** KICKED. A day of a thousand casts
without a strike in ten of my favorite areas (including the shallows). We even went as far as trolling with my ice
fishing jigging rod and nothing.
Honestly, even on a slow day at Boulder Lake,
we can usually squeeze out a few 16” peanut sized lakers. But today they were nonexistent. But that’s laker fishing. Our weather is too nice. The barometric pressure is high and I prefer
it to be as low as possible for lake trout fishing. Nevertheless, it was a fabulous day to be
alive and instead of dogs, tonight we feasted on steaks while watching another
brilliant sunset with a few curious mule deer.
We slept in till about 7
today. That’s late for us. What woke me were the deer sneaking around
camp. After yesterdays fishing and no
change foreseen in today’s weather, there was no rush to hit the water. We relaxed and drank coffee on our beach
before finally pushing the boat off at about 8.
There’s a part of Boulder Lake that I’ve never fished. From a distance it looks like nothing but a
steep drop off the side of a rocky-treeless mountain. That’s not good laker water. However, as I drank my wine last night while staring
at this area from a distance, I was intrigued by one spot that looked like it
may have a shallow bar in front of it.
Sure enough, we motored to it first thing and the area seemed perfect. Still, just like yesterday, despite how
perfect this spot looked and felt, I went three hours without a bump.
At 11 Granny suggested we
call it and head home. We hadn’t a
single bite all weekend. For her, she
doesn’t see the fishing getting any better in these situations. For me, a day and a half without a fish means
one must be coming soon. And a good one. I know in one cast I could catch a lake trout
that could change my life. I’m never
ready to go home. Just one more cast
please. We agreed on an early departure
but first I’d hit one shallow area where over the years I’ve caught a handful
of lake trout in the 6 to 15lb range while ice fishing.
We hit this area hard
yesterday and nothing. But that was
everywhere, who knows, today the mysterious char might be ready. I motored us there and picked up my 7-weight
for some quick deep casts with two smaller flies. One was a Brent Dawson’s (Warpath) epoxy head
jig-like fly and the other some odd looking black and white minnow
imitation.
The wind was light and blowing from the southwest. It was just strong enough that I flipped out my drowg (wind sock) to slow down our drift. An hour into the drift Granny was asleep in the front seat and I was daydreaming as I cast and stripped like a robot. Then a light spot within casting range caught my eye. It could have been the top of a rock 15ft down or perhaps the tip top of a sand bar out in the middle of this bay. I tossed my flies right over the fishy looking contour and let them sink a count of ten. It was a long cast and I expected a strike right away but there was nothing. As I continued stripping back I made up my mind this was it. This was my last cast. We were going home. And just as that terrible “giving in” thought crossed my mind I got that jolt. I strip set and saw the laker flash. I had a decent fish!
The wind was light and blowing from the southwest. It was just strong enough that I flipped out my drowg (wind sock) to slow down our drift. An hour into the drift Granny was asleep in the front seat and I was daydreaming as I cast and stripped like a robot. Then a light spot within casting range caught my eye. It could have been the top of a rock 15ft down or perhaps the tip top of a sand bar out in the middle of this bay. I tossed my flies right over the fishy looking contour and let them sink a count of ten. It was a long cast and I expected a strike right away but there was nothing. As I continued stripping back I made up my mind this was it. This was my last cast. We were going home. And just as that terrible “giving in” thought crossed my mind I got that jolt. I strip set and saw the laker flash. I had a decent fish!
If you're one of those who
thinks lake trout don’t fight, than you haven’t caught enough of them. Lakers are a favorite of mine. Sure they don’t jump and many times they just
twist their way all the way in. But when
you hook one two weeks after ice out in shallow water, buckle up! Lakers are at their strongest at this time of
year and when hooked in the shallows it causes them shear terror. My lake trout took off like a wildfire to the
point where my first comment was, “Why aren’t I using my 8-weight?”
Naturally, the fleeing laker
was headed upwind. He was going the
opposite way that the wind was blowing us.
Granny awoke and went to pull in the drowg. Normally this is the smart move, making sure
the fish on doesn’t get wrapped up in the drowg like on an anchor rope, but
with a big fish going the opposite way of our drift, the drowg was helping me
stay closer. Instead she did what’s best
– get the camera.
This laker even surprised
me. I’d seen a glimpse on the hook set
and thought I had a nice 25 incher, but this guy was fighting harder than
that. Three times I got the fish close
enough that I saw the butt of my fluoro leader but could not see the fish
before he screamed off line again. After
a good eight minutes he came to the surface.
He was no beast but after a day and a half without a strike – he’d do
just fine. Moments later I scooped up a
28” 7lb laker with my NZ weigh net on the Warpath Clouser.
It was time to end an already
great weekend on an extremely high note.
We rattled off some photos and took for camp. At camp I filleted the perfect eating size
laker and then did what any sensible angler would do when the opportunity
exists. I opened up his stomach to see
what he was eating. Sure enough his
stomach was jammed full of nymphs. Not
chironomids but rather huge - bigger than cigarette butt - cased caddis - most
of them still alive. It was unreal. It’s no wonder we couldn’t buy a fish on a
streamer.
We’ll get three delicious
meals out of today’s lake trout. We’re
normally not fish killers, but when it comes to lake trout, we always take one
home. They are especially tasty and
healthy for you might I add.
I can’t stop thinking about
the heap of cased caddis in his stomach.
Can I imitate them? Could we go
back and catch a dozen of these gorgeous lakers instead of one in two days? We’ll have to see. It sounds easy, put on a caddis nymph next
trip and hammer them, but fishing nymphs on a lake is an art. And imitating cased caddis on a lake is even
more of a challenge. And most important
of all, do the real big lakers, say over 20lbs, eat nymphs too? If not, I’m not fishing nymphs. But how am I to know? You got to love fishing. You never know it all.
It’s back to the art
table. The next five days I’ll continue
to do the illustrations for Boots Allen’s new book, Modern Fly Fishing. With a little luck I’ll actually finish this
massive project by Monday and then it will be back to fishing. Next week is the annual Blackfoot Reservoir Carp Tournament. This is one of my
favorite events of the year!
Look at all of those cased caddis, that is weird... you hoy to love that about fish... the weirder the better. Now you know!
ReplyDeletehoy = GOT (not sure how I messed that one up)
ReplyDeleteGreat recap of your trip!
ReplyDeleteAwesome Jeff, & props to the wp fly. I will repost to featherhook. Energy and persistence conquer all things. ~ Benjamin Franklin
ReplyDeleteSurprised I haven't heard from WP. He always gets excited when one of his flies takes the crown!
ReplyDelete