We headed up to the cabin last Thursday…it was nice to make the drive during the week and avoid traffic! My nephew Nick was attending summer camp in Twain Harte, so, since my sister would be in town, I offered a chance to stay a few days. I met Luci and her youngest son, Nathan, at the Tracy In-N-Out, a favorite lunchtime stop, about [singlepic=119,150,,right]noon Thursday. We parted ways but soon joined up again at the cabin. After I quickly whacked the weeds, we headed to Twain Harte Lake, where the weather and water were great. Truthfully, the water wasn’t that great. Water weeds — one of Luci’s least favorite aspects of lake swimming — were quite high. The lake had recently been treated for the infernal vegetation, but the affects were not yet evident.

A decision was made on Friday that I would take my nephews to Moccasin Creek, so after a morning of playing games and generally being lazy, we headed west on Hwy 108, then south on Hwy 120. We arrived just before the hatchery was to close, but did get to ogle some of the brood fish and the mass quantities of trout ready for stocking. We first wetted our lines at the base of the dam, but the fish were running deep and not interested in what we had to offer. While Nathan and his mom played in the water and chased crayfish, Nick and I ventured through the blackberries and bugs to my favorite spot. Using PowerBait, Nick got one nibble. I was lucky enough to hook three decent-sized rainbows using my favorite Panther Martin (red body/gold blade). Then it was back to the dam, where the boys splashed around and skipped rocks…including the biggest boy.

I left the cabin mid-morning Saturday to head to Modesto, where I picked up Chris after lunch at Garcia Jo Jo’s. On our ride back to the cabin, we stopped at Moccasin Creek, where the catching was again a bit slow. I landed one rainbow after my fist cast, but that was about it. It was back to the cabin and to the lake, where we had a great 4th of July hamburger dinner, even if the wait was a bit long. As the sun set, Chris, Nick and Nathan headed to the lake inlet with fishing poles in hand. Chris did catch some fish.  However, they were a bit difficult to see…none were longer than my pinkie finger. (Big-mouthed baby bass.)

Sunday started early, with Chris and I out the door by 6:30 a.m. We planned to spend the day at Kennedy Meadows, but fast and high water changed our minds. We saw numerous fishermen pass by, but all were empty handed. Finding that we were close to Sonora Pass, I figured we could head on over to the “Eastside,” where Chris wanted to hit one of his favorite spots: Lee Vining Creek. The water was again high with none of the regular pools. No rises to flies and nothing on spinners. I suggested heading up the Tioga Road for a look at Saddlebag Creek, which we also found running quite fast…so fast that one fly fisherman who was there teaching a buddy had no expectations of a bite. On our list of streams to check out was the section of Lee Vining Creek that goes between Tioga and Ellery lakes, so off we went. Chris was again skunked here, but I happened to hook three small trout on a gold Mepps, but only pulled one — a nine-inch brook — to shore. (In fumbling for my camera and minimize any stress on this trout, the little brookie opted to release itself from my barbless hook.) After lunch, we stopped at Pickle Meadows, another spot we had wanted to check out, and chatted with some fly fishermen who were departing after fishing the West Walker River most of the day. One of these gentlemen has fished the area for going on a decade and predicted that it will be another two weeks before the West Walker might even be ready for fishing. Chris and I walked a stretch of the river to find, like everything else, it’s still running very high and fast, though the color is clearing up. Though there was little catching on this trip, the weather was beautiful and my batteries were recharged!

Though we shifted from our original plan to head over Sonora pass to the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevadas, Chris and I had fun weekend of (mostly) catch and release fishing. We left about mid morning Friday, taking our time driving into the foothills and stopping for lunch along the way. A stop at the Mother Lode Fly Shop convinced us that it wouldn’t be too productive to spend the three hours driving over Sonora pass or even to venture into any of the local rivers as water levels were high enough to be dangerous, much less conducive to fishing. I got similar advice from Ken’s Sporting Goods in Bridgeport: Just avoid the rivers for now.

So after settling into the cabin about 2:30 p.m., we headed up to the canal for a look. We tossed a few lures and Chris got one strike. Then he hooked three small rainbows and landed in two, giving one to a nearby angler. (We are using barbless hooks exclusively, but if it looks like a fish may not survive because of an injury, we “donate” it to a fellow fisherman.) But Chris wanted to get down to Moccasin Creek, and about 35 minutes later we were there.

Moccasin is pretty much a “put and take” stream, supplied by a nearby hatchery.We typically avoid the top of the stream at the base of the Moccasin Creek Power Plant dam, and skipped to some pools downstream. Chris had ventured to the other side of the steam and we eventually lost sight of each other. Threading my way through overgrown blackberry bushes I found an attractive looking, dark green pool in front of a big boulder after a few casts and a single strike, I decided to toss the little Panther Martin lure (red body/gold blade) past the boulder with the idea of bringing it up behind any fish that might be in front of the boulder. To my surprise, I had a fish on almost as soon as the lure hit the water. I shifted my focus to the shallows behind the boulder and over the course of about an hour hooked eleven decent-size “stocker” rainbow trout and landed seven. Chris caught up with me, hooked one trout, but the bite slowed and we left shortly thereafter.

I stumbled out of bed at 5 a.m. Saturday to be told by Chris that he needed another hour of sleep. An hour later, he was not showing any signs of strong motivation, so I shelved our plans for early morning fishing, hoping that on this day we’d have the same experience in the afternoon as I did Friday. I arrived back at Moccasin Creek about 11:00 a.m. with plans to wade as far as we could downstream, maybe even to the inlet into Don Pedro Lake. Fishing as we went, we made our way downstream, but found little action. Chris had a few strikes, I had one. In the end, while we may have gotten close to the inlet, the banks of the stream became so overgrown with blackberries and the water grew so deep that we turned around. Heading upsteam is much more difficult and one of my knees shows the scars of such a battle.

About mid afternoon we came up on the same pool and shallows that were so good to me the previous afternoon. Another fisherman and his female companion had set up on the shore. Apparently, with bait, he had plucked five fish from the stream (the limit) over the course of most of the day. Chris and I approached the area from the opposite side and started casting lures. Near as I can figure, over about two hours Chris and I together hooked about 12 fish, landing about half of them. I was having fun throwing lures on the shore, then pulling them into the stream right where the water undercut the bank a bit. Numerous times I was caught off guard by a fish that took my lure almost as soon as I had reset my bail. After a while, lures seemed to fall from favor, so, despite our typical avoidance of bait, Chris and I set up for salmon eggs and PowerBait. We caught another three or four fish with bait.

As the day entered the twilight hours, we moved upstream to “the pipe” (where the water exits the dam) and met a local guy who had retired to the area and regaled us with fish tales. According to him – and he seems correct – the fish start biting just about the time most folks leave. He invited us to set up next to him and after a few minutes he had a fish on. Chris stuck up a conversation with this gentleman, who is originally from San Jose, and found out that he had a special trick for floating earthworms past a boulder deep in the pool. In the meantime, Chris hooked two more fish and gave him to our fellow fisherman, who decided three trout was enough. As he departed, he left the remainder of his earthworms with Chris and I. A bit later, a father and his young son started fishing a bit downstream from us. Employing our newly learned earthworm trick, Chris and I had double hook up and gave the two trout to the father and his son. (This father was there because his son loves to eat trout.) We finished out the evening, about when it was too dark to see and after we had exhausted our supply of earthworms, plucking a few trout out with PowerBait. It was a “troutfully” fun weekend!

During a visit to the cabin during July 2005, we – Pat, Sean and Chris – decided to take a long day trip over the Sonora Pass and to Tuolumne Meadows. If you browse through the photos below, you can see there was quite a bit of snow covering the mountains around the pass and up to the roadway.  We made good time and soon were climbing up Tioga Road (Hwy 120) in Lee Vining Canyon.  By the way, at the base of the road there is new Mobil station with a restaurant – pretty convenient though it is quite expensive. It was a nice drive, though, as very few people seemed to be in this neck of the woods. For those who are observant, you’ll see a one or two pictures the gathering clouds of an afternoon thunderstorm.

The water was high everywhere through the canyon and Tuolumne Meadows.  It was quite amazing. Even the various agencies (National Forest, National Park Service and state park system) had posted temporary signs warning of high water and the possibility of hikers having to cross swollen streams.

Exactly three hours later, we arrived at the Tioga Pass Entrance Station. The sky was clear, snow was all around and the water was high. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. The pass only opened on June 24, a tad bit more than two weeks prior to our visit and the campground would not open for another two days.

One of our first stops was Tioga Lake. While we were there, two fly fisherman were floating on tubes, with their legs in the very cold water. During our stop, Sean just had to assemble a snowball – a bit of a novelty in July. The snow was different from what one might be accustomed to seeing as there was no human activity interfering with its melting…at least until we arrived!

And for my immediate family members…does this picture of the boys with the stringer of fish look familiar? It was taken near one of the campsites at which we stayed. Sure, it has asphalt laid down in the parking spot now and the koisk has been moved, but the Tuolumne Meadows campground is much the same.But out trip was about fishing. We started fishing the Tuolumne River, just outside the campground, but didn’t have any luck. Next, we tried Tioga Lake, where Sean and Chris had a few strikes and saw a few trout follow lures in, but no bites. Then we stopped at Ellery Lake, where Chris pulled in a few trout. Sean also had a few hits, but dad was skunked.

I think the whole day was made worthwhile for Sean (and me) at Lee Vining Creek. During all of our visits to the streams of the Sierra, the trout seemed to know Sean was coming. But Chris, during a previous visit to the Lee Vining Canyon with Boy Scouts, directed us to this little bend in the Lee Vining Creek – which is more of a small river. Sure, they were prob’ly hatchery trout, but they sure were fun to catch. Near as we can recall, without “fisherman’s exaggeration” creeping in, Sean pulled in about six fish, Pat about ten and Chris maybe a dozen or so. Five are in the freezer awaiting their fate.

The nice thing about this jaunt is that we weren’t in a hurry. We took our time on the return leg, driving through June Lake Loop about five-ish and finally reaching Bridgeport close to six. After gobbling down some grub at the ‘Jolly Cone’ we then headed up the road, passing the Marine Corps’ Mountain Warfare Training Center. Along the way we stopped to take in a few vistas – the slowness forced by the twists and turns of the road force one to take in the beauty along the way.

After cresting Sonora Pass, Chris wanted to use his new camera, so we stopped at the East Flange Pass overlook. (Apparently, this pass used as a landmark by the pioneers and Forty-Niners as they descended from Sonora Pass.) Chris jumped out, scrambled around the granite formation and found a small tree for his subject. The photo in the album is looking towards the southern Sierra Nevadas and Yosemite.

Our last stop was at the Dardanelles Reservoir, about thirty miles from Twain Harte and viewed from a fantastic overlook. We arrived about 8:30 p.m., just as the sun was setting. From the overlook one peers down into a deep canyon at the reservoir, which I have read has little accessibility because of the steep canyon walls, but does harbor some trout.  I hope to return during daylight hours as one is offered a tremendous view up and down the canyon and to the mountains north. About forty minutes later we were ‘home’ at the cabin, just in time to wash the smell of fish from our bodies (I even had fish stuff on my shirt).  Yeah, it was a long trip but a great trip that I would gladly undertake again.