I took the opportunity to make one last trip before school started. It was kind of spur of the moment so I had to go solo. I started heading east and decided to stop at a small stream I've driven by for years but never fished. It's near a tourist trap and most likely full of planted nasties so I always wrote it off as a waste of time. But I decided if anything the fish would be spooky and the challenge would make things interesting. The first fifteen minutes went by without even seeing a fish and then I hooked into a football bow with a zeal for aerobatics. It had a full set of fins and covered in vivid colors. Soon after I hooked into many more great looking fish with a few mangled planters mixed in. I had a hard time pulling myself away from this little gem, but I had a mission...Big Boulder Brookies! On the way there, I stopped at a road-side BBQ to grab a brisket sandwich. They were out of everything but full racks of ribs...normally $22 I got one for $13!
I made the trip to Pillsbury Pond earlier this summer and hooked into some pretty nice fish. I arrived at the trail-head around 5:30pm with no other car in site. It started to lightly rain as I began to hike. My legs burned as my mind raced at the possibility of having this lake to myself. I decided to pack in my float-tube in hopes of having more room to cast. This lake has steep banks with trees right to the edge, giving little area to cast. Light rain turned into a downpour as I arrived at my destination. I hurried to rig up and got into position. Right as I was making my first few casts of the evening a flash of lightning directly followed by crashing thunder shook me to the core. Isn't there some rule about counting the time between lightning and thunder? It's called the
30/30 rule...Well I followed the rule of 10, if I could count to ten between thunder crashes I was good to go. I was lucky in both no becoming a crispy critter, catching a few nice fish, and having the lake completely to myself.
I hiked out in pitch darkness excited to return in the morning. I had hotdogs and cream corn for dinner and went to bed. 5am came early and I got up and going for another day of fishing. The weather had cleared and I knew I would first on the water. I didn't fair as well as the day prior but I was able to pick up a few more respectable fish and a BUF Brookie from the depths of hell. My only regret was mistakenly tying some semi-seal leeches on light wire hooks as I lost a fish comparable to
one of my largest last trip to a snapped hook. Oh...and I'm going to invest in some 2x.
I made some rib-meat sandwiches for lunch and headed home.
On the way back I hit
another flash flood through Red Canyon. There were about 25 cars at a stand-still. I bypassed the rubber-necking tourists and drove on through until I reached what was stopping traffic. A mudslide had washed over the road and no one dared drive over it. Once the first one made it over without incident, I hopped back in the car and made my getaway. I had to stop later for a photo-op. What was a dry wash the day before was a ragging torrent of angry mud.
Dedicated to the memory of
POS 1997. We had a good run but we all have our time.
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