I'm posting this as an experiment. I'm the administrator for a fly fishing site and this is post of a trip I did several weeks ago in our local mountains. Couple of things....we only fish with barbless hooks and release all fish. I haven't eaten a trout since the early 60's on the John Muir trail. Too darn many bones.
There was a time when there was a lot of choices for fly fishermen living in Southern California. Wild fire, drought, poaching and fish killed to save frogs that are dying anyway from a virus have contributed to the demise of finding local wild trout. Our reality that the number of places where you can catch fish without driving to Bishop has diminished dramatically. I heard about a creek that was worth investigating and called Tom Sakai. He was game and we off on another adventure. It had been a while since we fished local.
My fishing adventures always begin at O dark thirty and feeding the horses and chickens. The moon light was bright enough to see without a headlamp and the horses let me know if I missed anyone.
This drainage is one I fished many years ago with a fellow named Ray . He called it Blackberry Creek and even then, it was a skinny water that you moved up and fished the small pools. At the time, I could barely tie a fly on, let alone cast into the wind, brambles and bushes. Ray caught fish in every pool and I took pictures.
I take the directions to the jumping off point and almost miss the spot.
Not a place you would think of to start wilderness fishing trip. We find where we need to be and guess where the path in is. We've done worse.
Rugged but doable. I'm fishing my Rhodo tenkara rod and really am looking forward to seeing how it does in tight quarters. Tom is fishing conventional fly gear.
We are certainly not the first pilgrims who've wandered down this path. Some folks feel the need to mark their passage with something other then footprints and photos. The further we went, the less the marking but there nonetheless.
The canyon is full of wlldlife and their songs and even with my hearing aids, I am comforted that they still call this place home and are willing to share with us as we make our way in search of wild fish. These Big Cone Doug Firs like the drainages and they are definitely the biggest thing growing in the forest.
This is definitely skinny water but more and more is visible as we go upstream. The canyon is very dark with the cloud cover that comes and goes but there are pools at regular intervals and here are where the fish are. Two things....be ready to have your fish tangle in the brush in the water and be able to use a Bow and Arrow cast.
Tom and I made our way up this canyon for several miles. Pretty much boulder hopping and trying to get our flies in the hidden pools. At times, it the high, dark walls and the ominous cloud cover along with the sound of the water rushing downward reminded me of the Central Highlands when I carried a different kind of rod. For those 28 months a lifetime ago, the river and water always represented a place to revitalize myself. This canyon has the same effect.
We fished for several hours under a threatening sky. We each caught some fish. They were amazing dark colors Brown Trout.
We decided that the day was still young and we would try and access some new water. We headed back to the car and the steep hike out. It always seems steeper when you are going up hill.
We're enroute to visit an old friend....Creek Number 2....and we are pleasantly surprised to see the dirt road we use for access is not totally trashed on our 40 minute drive. The ruts aren't nearly as bad as we expected. The water looks pretty good and green up from Spring's water and warmth makes the canyon look like it's putting on display just for us. The flows are good and water temp in the high 50's. We're gonna catch a fish in here somewhere....It's a feeling that you just know to be true.
Tom is Mr. Stealth....he's also about three times more limber then I am. I watch him catch fish. They are definitely in here.
I feel my Tenkara bow and I have a fish on that is very big. I'm standing on a rock.....using a Tenkara rod and trying to get my camera to take a picture of this very big fish. I relaxed the rod and Mr. Big swirled off my barbless Adams. It probably was the biggest fish I have ever caught on Creek 2. I was just thrilled to have had the chance to see him.
We would make our way back up to the truck over a period of several hours. We both caught fish and missed fish and had the song of the creek wash the cares of the world below away from our shoulders. There is a pace and rhythm to two friends fishing together. Sometimes together....sometimes apart and connecting with the stories of the one that got away or wouldn't take the fly. Kind of like this picture I took of a tree root that had wrapped itself around these giant rocks to anchor itself against Winter floods and winds. One's strength depends on the other but not always.
Creek #2 gave us some good fish to play and release. One of several I caught:
Here's one of Tom's
By this time, it was late afternoon and we elected to try Creek #3. It was reasonably close and was set in a totally different environment. We figured we'd see what we could shake loose there and then head in for some dinner at our favorite post fishing restaurant.
We found a spot to park and walk and started fishing.
We walked.....we fished.....we walked and we fished some more.
I got reacquainted with my old friend, Nettle.
Finally, it started getting dark as the sun dipped below the ridgetop. Our canyon creek was not sharing it's bounty with us and we figured it was time to head down for the big chicken dinner.
It had been a very rewarding day in terms of the diversity and richness of life we were surrounded by and we caught enough fish to make things interesting. We chatted about fish we had caught over the years and flies we are tying and had a great dinner. No doubt, we'll do it again.
