On Moccasin Creek, Nov. 8, 2009
Category Archives: Fly Fishing
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.
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.
sean’s fish pictures
I’m a bit tardy putting these up, but Sean sent me photos of two fish he caught while camping in the Tioga Pass area during July. The brown is his first brown trout, caught on a fly. The second is a brook caught out of Lee Vining Creek, where they can be quite spooky.
Sean’s Brook Trout from Lee Vining Creek
Sean’s Brown Trout from Lee Vining Creek
hot weekend!
The often unknown price of planning a trip to The Cabin can come in many forms…frozen pipes in the winter, construction noises in the spring…and heat in the summer.
I knew it’d be a whirlwind (long) weekend, with Christopher and Katelyn dropping in Friday night for some fishing Saturday, followed by Sean and Kirsten arriving Saturday night for more fishing Sunday. (Both boys are at that age during which young men seem to test the devotion of girlfriends by dragging them around to all sorts of questionable activities.) I did not know that temperatures would soar those three days, breaking thermometer bulbs up and down the Sierra foothills. The car thermometer read 107°F at one point. While I’d rather not believe that figure, the psychological toll came nowhere near the physical.
But we managed to have fun. Christopher wanted to test the waters of the South Fork of the Tuolumne River, up the road from Groveland, so we did. Sean and I had visited this stretch of the river on Opening Day, only to find the flows quite high. This time around we found nice pools and decent fishing. I initially headed upstream, finding a welcome strike or two; finally landing a decent rainbow after casing upstream to a likely pool from behind a boulder. Christopher and Katelyn chased after some fish they saw lingering in a bigger pool.
My Tuolumne River Rainbow
My attention turned downstream. Fruitless casts into some bigger water prompted a switch to a dry/dropper set up (dry fly with a trailing nymph). This produced at least a dozen takes and a few smaller fish landed, including what might have been my first Sacramento pikeminnow, in juvenile form. After the Tuolumne we played at Moccasin Creek for a while. With the blame for the tougher than usual fishing placed firmly on our late afternoon arrival and the high pressure system that brought the searing heat — I still managed to hook and land four decent rainbows.
Sean & Bass
The remaining daylight after dinner found us, as promised, fishing a small pond near Lyons Canal for bass and sunfish. We all caught something. The bass were small but willing to hit nearly anything. Christopher and I threw streamers to hook numerous bass, while Katelyn landed one on a spinner. We closed the fishing for the day with a stroll along the canal, where Christopher landed a decent-sized brown trout. Later, Christopher took first in a round of miniature golf, with dad behind by one stroke. Then Christopher and Katelyn left and dad collapsed.
Sean and Kirsten were ready to roll about 6:00 a.m. Sunday and we were on Moccasin Creek by 7:15. The fishing was again a bit tough. I’ll blame my lack of fish to hand on the fact that Sean borrowed my 5 wt. fly rod because Kirsten was using Sean’s/my backup 5 wt. fly rod, leaving me to use a too-limber 3 wt., which made strong hook sets difficult. However, when all was said and done, dad out-fished Sean by two trout. I think it was 7-5. Kirsten also hooked a few and landed one.
The post-dinner fishing was again targeting bass and sunfish. Sean had a frustrating time with a streamer. At my suggestion he switched to a dry/dropper and was immediately on to the small bass. The fun continued after I tied on a damselfly imitation to elicit some awesome top-water strikes. But let’s just say that the dad vs. Sean competition wasn’t even close in this venue. (Grasshopper, when you can take the fly from my hand, it will be time for you to outfish your father.)
Another game of miniature golf showed my consistency…again one stroke behind the son. This game, however, sure brought out Kirsten’s competitive streak. She was ready for an immediate rematch with Sean.
Did I mention it was hot all weekend?
Fat Fish
Rainbow from Water That Shall Not Be Named
Kirsten & Trout
Sean & Trout
Wild Brown
Kaitlin & Bass
teach a son to (fly) fish…
“Give a son a fish; you have fed him for today. Teach that son to fly fish; and you will have to answer constant questions about where, when, how…and tie a bunch of flies for his next camping trip.”
Sean and Christopher are back after a three-day fishing/camping trip in the high country around Tuolumne Meadows. And the fishing went well.
The first report trickled in from a pay phone…at least once Sean figured out how to use it. I’m hoping he didn’t immediately leave the stream to seek out the phone, but it was great to get a message that he’d caught his first wild brown trout using a fly rod. Later I’d learn that he caught other trout, including two wild brookies in a section of Lee Vining Creek where I know it’s tough to get any interest in a fly. It’s also cool to note that he caught them on dry fly. I believe that’s the first time he’s hooked a trout on a dry.
It would have been nice to be there…and I’m still awaiting photographic proof…but it’s nice to know that Sean put to use skills and tactics taught by his ol’ dad to fool some fish. (Just need to keep enough secrets to myself so he’ll never outfish me!)
Apparently though, Christopher resorted to spinners and, of all things, that stinky, unnaturally colored man-made bait to land a bushel or more of trout. Guess he won the weekend on sheer numbers, if not on the elegance of the method. (Insert acknowlegement of a certain bias toward fish caught on the fly.)
It seems that for me days of fishing, and catching, have been somewhat of a rarity so far this year. Here’s to hoping that next weekend I’ll get in some make-up fishing.
next stop: Yosemite
This week I hope to pass the torch to my grandson with his first introduction to camping.
Tomorrow we’ll be on the road to Yosemite Valley; a pretty great place for one’s first camping trip. The hope is to hit all the usual highlights: the granite sentinels (Half Dome, El Capitan, Cathedral Rocks, Three Brothers, and, um, yes, Sentinel Rock), Yosemite and Bridalveil (and maybe the seasonal Ribbon) falls, Glacier Point, the Yosemite Valley and Happy Isles visitor centers, and maybe a dip in the Merced River.
Somewhere along the line I also hope to give Alex his first experience in fishing. If we’re lucky, he’ll land a trout; really lucky will mean bass and sunfish too.
Our adventure will continue with a weekend visit to the cabin, maybe a little mini golf at Twain Harte Miniature Golf, maybe some frolicking at Twain Harte Lake. And it’ll all be capped by great hamburgers at Diamondback Grill. Doesn’t get much better.
late Memorial Day fishing report
I suppose the answer to the question “How was the fishing trip?” will, at least for me, typically be predicated on the catching. This time around, it was good. Some fishing, some catching, some exploring and some relaxing. And all with the crowds of summer still held to a pre-Memorial Day minimum.
Every year for the past three I’ve fished Crowley Lake and explored nearby waters, usually including one place that’s new to me. For one who grew up predominately catching trout in the high Sierras, typically in and around Tuolumne Meadows, a fish’s colors can trump size, and finding within myself the skill, stealth and tenacity sometimes required of fly fishing to hook and land a fish is in itself part of the reward. This trip was no different. I landed beautiful fish, was challenged by new water, and landed a personal best on Crowley Lake.
I’ve developed a habit of traveling to the cabin (in Twain Harte), if I can, during midday to avoid the usual traffic snarls. This also allows for a leisurely drive and the almost obligatory stop at Bass Pro Shops in Manteca. Traffic was indeed light, and after an hour of poking around Bass Pro, I arrived at the cabin in the early evening, tidied up the car the next day, read my book and hit the hay early enough to ensure nine hours of sleep before getting up at oh-dark-thirty for the trek across Sonora Pass, which was relatively nice. Think I saw less than half a dozen other vehicles during the 70-mile drive to Sonora Junction.
With perhaps too much optimism, I hoped to fish Little Walker River. After my arrival, and being a somewhat rational human being, I passed on trying to fish the Little Walker, which like the West Walker River was running fast and high. A quick stop made in Bridgeport at Ken’s Sporting Goods, followed by a selecting of flies and the solicitation of information, I had a game plan to try the East Walker River. After passing by numerous times before, this would be my first visit to the EW.
I look upon the first few casts during any of my trips, particularly on new waters, as a warm up. Sort of keeps expectations low. That theory was unexpectedly destroyed on the EW when my first dozen drifts yielded four strikes and two smaller brown trout to the net. Missed strikes would haunt me throughout the day. Had I been fishing with a buddy, it would have been embarrassing the number times I missed the hookset.
My first East Walker Brown
The lower section of the East Walker — below the bridge — is known for smaller fish, which almost guarantees fewer fishermen. With a long section to myself, I pulled a few more fish out in the course of a couple of hours. I later moved to the upper section, finding more people flogging the so-called Miracle Mile. Not so many people that it was crowded, but prime spots were quickly occupied. The folks I spoke with told me the water was too high for great fishing, but was definitely fishable. I did watch, with a little bit of envy, as one guy pulled what must have been a 24-inch-plus brown out of one eddy. In fours, my tally was six brownies to hand, the biggest at about 13 inches.
The evening found me near McGee Creek. With waning daylight, I probed the waters of McGee to pull out two rainbows that looked like DFG fish. A call that night set the launch time from the Crowley marina at 7:30 a.m.
I met Ron, who replaced Wade as my “blind date” for the day with a guide on Crowley, at the boat. In short order we were headed to the Layton Springs section of the lake. If the first half hour was to be any indication — two fish, albeit smaller trout, within about 30 minutes — we were in for one heck of a day. But the excitement quickly abated. Oh, I was still getting strikes, but it was spawning Sacramento perch, something only usually caught during the spring. While it was great to work on my strike detection skill as well as my hook set, I really wasn’t there to pull in perch.
Ron and his big fish for the day.
As the day wore on — and great weather followed me this trip — our leaders grew in length. I usually work with a 10- to 12-foot leader, smaller on smaller streams of course, but by midday we were flaying about with 17-foot leaders as we tried to get down to the fish. And down to the fish we got. Early morning I hooked into a nice 19-inch post-spawn female cutthroat. The best of the day, which ended with a total of nine trout for me, and the smallest at about 12 inches. Ron, who spent the day with a few strikes but no hook ups, literally came in under the wire. After our guide rang the 10-minute warning bell, Ron hooked into a good fish and ended up bring a big, about 24-inch long, rainbow to the net. Great ending to a tough day!
If a day on the lake wasn’t enough (we were off the lake at 4:00 p.m.), Ron and I drove to the section of Rock Creek just below Rock Creek Lake. Ron was there to see what it was like, and left shortly thereafter. I stayed to play with the wild brook trout, which obliged me. Figure I pulled in more than a dozen with my 3 wt. rod, casting a dry/dropper combination, with hits on both flies.
A bit upstream from where I waded in, I targeted a small pool with overhanging bushes. Sure enough, I pulled a few brookies out of it, but was surprised when what seemed to be a snag turned into a beautiful 11-inch rainbow sparkling with scarlet cheeks and a match slash down its side. Too bad my camera was resting in my backpack in my car.
Friday was departure day but that morning I squeezed in what ultimately became a 3- to 4-mile nature hike. Knowing that McGee Creek can be home to fish coming out of Crowley, I wandered downstream, but left the fish alone. Most were either spawning or beat up and returning to the lake. Now I know what to expect. It was a good morning, nonetheless.
Preferring to not drive the same route to the cabin, I headed up the recently reopened Tioga Pass Road. I wasn’t disappointed. Tioga Lake was still mostly iced over and snow was prevalent over the pass and through Tuolumne Meadows, though the meadows were more akin to a marsh. Later that afternoon I pulled up at the cabin, cleaned up, then enjoyed a most excellent brick oven-baked Pizza Margherita from the local Villa D’oro restaurant.
Planter Brook Trout
Knowing that the Department of Fish & Game had dumped some of the larger brook trout in Moccasin Creek, I spent most of Saturday morning and part of the afternoon there. My second cast led to the landing of a nice 16-inch hatchery rainbow, and as the morning wore on (and after switching to Prince Nymph fly trailing a Tiger Midge), I brought about a dozen brook trout to the net. Then, as has become my modus operandi, I returned to the cabin during mid afternoon to clean and pack my gear in anticipation of returning home Sunday (so that I might miss traffic). Later there was time for relaxing and reading.
Sunday morning was a repeat of the last day of my last visit. Played with the bass and sunfish in a pond on a now-defunct golf course, and pulled a few wild browns out of the canal.
Then it was time to wander home.
Sonora Pass
Leavitt Falls
Bridgeport Reservoir
My first East Walker Brown
East Walker Brown
View from the hotel.
Crowley Cuttie
Oops…
Ron and his big fish for the day.
Tioga Lake/Ice Rink
Tenaya Lake
The view from Olmsted Point.
Planter Rainbow
Planter Brook Trout
The golf course pond.
the pass is open, the pass is open!
Remember the scene in “The Jerk” when Steve Martin runs around and jumps up and down after the arrival of the new phonebook? Well, that was me upon learning that Sonora Pass opened yesterday. Its opening gives me a straight shot at getting to the Eastside, where I’ll be fishing next week. Things are shaping up nicely.
midges hatching at Crowley Lake
Encouraging sign. I’ll be there in 12 days!
fishing for words 