On Moccasin Creek, Nov. 8, 2009
Author Archives: Patrick Konoske
end-of-season fishing trip ’09: the warm up
Three more days of work and we’re outta here.
After last year’s inaugural trip to cold waters during the last full weekend of California’s trout season, the commitment was made to do it again. In approximately 90 hours one son and I should be on the road. We’ll stop at the Bass Pro Shops store near Manteca to drool, and make it to the cabin by sundown.
With any luck, we’ll be out of cell phone range all day Saturday, traversing just under one hundred miles to Bridgeport.
The goal: fish the East Walker River one more time before snow closes the passes. The EW’s flowing low but hope is high that this’ll remain steady through the weekend and allow access to areas I didn’t fish during the summer.
Then, depending on the fishing at the EW, our stamina, our doggedness or a combination of all three influences, maybe we’ll make it roundabout trip with a drive down to Lee Vining, hang a right, and head up and over Tioga Pass for a last late-season look.
as seen on twitter
At 136 characters under the 140 limit:
An 8 yr old dressed as death came to my door. I asked who he was, claimed to be a “Grim Reader”. Gave him a dictionary instead of candy.
good to the last drop
Cost of new-to-me used motorcycle: Within Budget.
Cost of labor to re-sync carburetors: $70.
Last tank of gas at 49.7 mpg: Priceless.
…actually it was $11.13, but I’m not complaining.
big fish, big fun
I’ve heard it said that that those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it, but I don’t think that applies to fly fishing. At least not during a recent Eastern Sierra trip with the club. Fall is just around the corner in this neck of the woods and it seems the local trout are feeling it. It certainly wasn’t a case of “you should have been here last week.”
To get the skunk off as early as possible maximize fishing, I joined two club members on our way to our temporary home at Tom’s Place Resort. I arranged an early morning met up that put us on the East Walker River by mid morning, just in time for a small caddis hatch. The killer combination was a size 16 black caddis on top with a crystal flash zebra midge of my own design. Three hours later and with eight browns to the net — biggest at 14 inches — it was off to Tom’s Place, where we’d meet up with the rest of the group. After a quick transfer of food and luggage to the cabins, a quick rundown offered by yours truly of some fishing options, we headed out. The scenery alone would be worth the price of admission; the sage infused high-desert of the East Slope, with a backdrop of pines and aspens climbing snow-tipped granite mountains. A backdrop that only became more beautiful with a trout brought to the hand.
With only a few hours to fish, I headed to the outlet of Rock Creek Lake to jump into the playground of brookies, offering a wide spot bordered by rushes or plunge pools directly below the lake outlet. Dries were the order of the hour, with humpies winning hands down.
Then, there came the food. Posole for dinner Friday, pulled pork on Saturday, and a heavy-duty breakfast composed of six pounds of bacon and three dozen eggs. And I can’t forget the homemade beer.
Dutch on a nice rainbow.
Saturday two fishing friends and I hit Crowley Lake with a guide. Crowley didn’t give up fish easily, or quickly. But quality was good. The only woman on the boat ended up catching only browns — and with five of ‘em, more fish than me or her husband — while her husband landed only Kamloops rainbows. I ended up with four Lahontan cutthroat and one Eagle Lake rainbow. With the except of my rainbow, all of our fish exceeded 18 inches, with my largest cutthroat topping out at 22 inches.
During a mid afternoon break, we tied some flies, including a few midges based on my recipe: silver bead head, black thread body overwrapped with ghost crystal flash, counter wrapped with red or silver fine wire, with a small crystal flash tail. That afternoon brought some thundershowers, but they only dampened the ground, not the fishing.
Sunday dawned bright and clear, and we headed out separate ways. Some stopped at the Tuolumne River, just south of the Hwy 120 bridge to net two fish and miss a bunch on a size 18 black EHC. A few of us again hit the East Walker, where we dredged up browns with nymphs and wet flies.
In the end, we collectively landed brook trout, Eagle Lake and Kamloops rainbows, Loch Leven and German (aka von Beher) browns, at least one cuttbow, and Lahontan cutthroats.
Our Crew
After stopping overnight at the cabin in Twain Harte, I fished a local stream in the rain – and I was the only one on the water there – and landed fifteen stocked rainbows. Fall is fast becoming my favorite time of the year up there…quiet and no crowds.
All in all, a great trip, great fishing, and great fun.
the power of free parking
Worth a watch. It’ll make you smile! Maybe cry. Starring T.J. Thyne (aka Dr. Jack Hodgins on the television series “Bones”)
Enjoy!
cruel and unusually funny
Just like the next person, I get a perverse guilty pleasure out of watching “COPS.” Now I have a off-season replacement, “Police Women of Broward County.”
“Police Women of Broward County” follows four female deputies — Deputies Shelunda Cooper, Ana Murillo, Andrea Penoyer and Detective Julie Bower — on and sometimes off duty, but since they’re dealing with your typical and everyday perps who seemingly haven’t learned a thing from the 20-plus years of “COPS” episodes, the reality in this show tends toward comedy. (And yes, there’s no doubt that the camera is played to.)
The best part of all is that these Broward County Sheriff Deputies get away with cruel and unusual punishment. Sure, perps are tackled, thrown to the ground, and revealed as mental midgets, but the icing on the cake is the ride to jail in a goober mobile.
Alright, so it’s pimped out with the police lights, police sirens, police radios and other police accoutrements, but it’s still a minivan.
Now, if they can only put the perp alongside the goober viewing hole.
(Didn’t click on the link above to find out why “goober mobile?” Go here and click on the play button.)
157 miles with a fish and chips stop
Ready to Roll
Weather rarely cooperates with plans made more than 24 hours in advance, so the older boy and I were happy to see our mini heat wave break, with cooler temps Sunday morning.
Sunday was “training day” on the motorcycles. We loaded up, geared up and hit the road sometime after eight thirty in the morning. The early start paid off with only scattered traffic on Interstate 680, as we made our way my sister family’s house in San Mateo. Occasional gusts of winds and inattentive car drivers required our attention. Other than that, it was smooth sailing.
After an unsuccessful attempt at computer repair, we headed out State Route 92. Surprisingly light traffic allowed us to make to Half Moon Bay Brewery in less than 30 minutes. Fueled by excellent fish and chips, we made our way up State Route 1, past the yet-to-be-completed Devils Slide Tunnel, up to and through San Francisco and across the Bay Bridge, then home.
Yes, I was a tad bit saddle sore when I go home. Next time I’ll try out the other seat I have for the Nighthawk.
Otherwise, good day, good ride, good fun.
Ready to Roll
In San Mateo
In Pacifica
Me and my ’97 Honda CB750 Nighthawk
Sean and his Honda CB650SC
making it mine II
It’s sometimes about dreams here at ffw headquarters, so the anticipation that comes with planning is part and parcel around the ol’ homestead. That’s why I wasted spent part of Sunday afternoon with the motorcycle.
I justified it a bit with some small maintenance items…an adjustment to the rear brake, a bit of fiddling with the rear brake pedal height and a check of the tires’ air pressure.
More fun was a test fit of the new luggage. Not only does it look good, but eyeballing the whole assembly gives the impression that the saddlebags offer enough space for four to six days of warm-weather clothing, while the expandable tailbag could allow room for other dreams. (Room for necessary fly fishing gear?)
The installation of some risers should address long-distance comfort by bringing the handlebar a bit higher and closer. Judgment remains reserved until I have a bit more time in the saddle.
The biggest dream came about last week in the form of a map outlining a route up the Pacific Coast. It stretches along the northern coast of California, up the coast of Oregon and Washington, loops around Olympic National Park, drops down through Bainbridge Island, includes a ferry ride across Puget Sound to Seattle, and finishes at the folks’ house.
Roughly 1,026 miles over four days. Summer of 2011? Maybe.
Good thing the new bags come with rain covers.
dad knew global warming was coming
It’s easy to dismiss global warming as Al Gore’s pet disaster or simply a cycle of the earth. I say we’ll know the truth when it’s all over. Regardless of the outcome, I’m beginning to think dad’s related to pikas.
Maybe he was acting on an inexpressible instinct, but what else could explain dad’s continual latitudinal movement toward cooler climates? It started in Perris, Calif. (33° 46’ 57” N); followed by Willits (39° 24’ 35” N) and Issaquah, Wash. (47° 31’ 49” N); and finally Duvall, Wash. (47° 44’ 32” N).
Now comes word of studies and requests that pikas be placed on the Endangered Species List because warming temperatures could force them further up their mountain habitats. Not convinced my dad and pikes are related? Read on:
To many scientists, pikas are a perfect study candidate because they are sensitive to temperature. They can be killed by temperatures higher than 78 degrees Fahrenheit, and prefer the rugged, rocky habitat found typically, but not exclusively, at higher elevations.
For those who know dad, ‘nuf said.
fishing for words 