Trip to Bishop Jan and Grandma Marg's

I went on a family vacation the beginning of June. The plan was to spend the first part of the trip with my wife and son and meet up with a few friends later in the week. We stayed at Bishop Jan and Grandma Marg's in Payson most of the trip. The first night, I snuck up the canyon just before dark and was able to coax a small Cutt to a white GF just before dark. Although I went a few more times for a quick fishing session, that was my first and last trout on that little stream.

I planned to go fishing with Jed Tues AM, but due to family illness, Jed was unable to make it. I still went that AM and fished a river I hoped would clear. The water was running high and slightly off-color. Once I picked a starting point, I began working the edges. I missed a few subtle strikes, but the fish didn't look very active. I came upon a grassy bank along the outside of a bend that look promising. After spooking a fat brown with sloppy wading, I watched my step. I cast my rig along the edge of the bank and immediately hooked into a fatty. It shot into the fast current and before I had a chance to think, it was gone. A few steps forward and the scenario repeated. I was bound to get it right eventually! The next fish I hooked into, (all within about 50 feet of bank) I jumped into the river and ran to the other side. I was able to keep up with the fish and landed it in a small pool below where I'd hooked it.

As the morning's crisp air began to warm, I noticed what I'd hope to see on this trip...Salmonflies!

I tied an Amy's Ant on and hoped for the best. I didn't see any fish rising, but I knew they couldn't pass up my morsel of foam, fur and feathers. I was able to hook a 13"ish brown that came unbuttoned once it got below me. I guess the fish must have gorged themselves on SF before I got there. As I drove out of the canyon, I stopped to speak to a couple spin fisherman that reported the SF were all over the place a little further down. And the fishing was slow for them too.

We took Connor to the Zoo the next day. It was raining off and on all day. We had a couple hours before we were to meet Katy's friends at the Pie. We took a small detour and I was able to make a few casts in the rain. Earlier in the week when I fished this stream, I didn't bring any wading gear. I wore my hiking shoes and rolled up my pants. The water was freezing! and it was all I could do to stay out of the water as much as possible. But this time, I luckily had my waders and rain jacket. I fished poorly and spent most of my time untangling my line from the trees above. Just before having to leave for some tasty pizza and micro-brewed beer (heavy on the root), I hooked into a little cutt.

The beginning of my fishing trip began Thursday morning. I've been wanting to fish Pinder's Pond for a few months. I packed the car the night before so I could get an early start. Just as I was putting my cereal bowl in the sink, Bishop Jan came out and asked to tag along. It was another hour before we left, but I was happy to have the company.

The drive took forever, but we finally pulled up to the bank of the lake and I unloaded my gear. It looked like it was going to be a good day. I spoke to a couple fisherman and they reported mixed results. Right as I go into the water, I could hear splashing from the other side of the lake. Two anglers stood perched on the edge of a steep drop-off. One with a bent rod, the other with a full net. The Tiger trout had to be over 25"! "that's got to be the biggest fish I've ever caught" echoed in my ears. I hoped to make the same statement by day's end.

After many failed attempts to hook into a fish, I got out of the tube and worked the shore-line. Within the first few cast, I hooked into a bright red Cutt.

A storm rolled in with hail, thunder, and lightning. I hid under my POS1997 and waited out the storm. I wasn't sure if it would ever pass. The lightning looked as if it were at my toes and thunder rattled me to my soul. Once things looked to clear a little, I came out from under my tube and began to fish. I hoped the storm would wake up the fishing. I began to hear a buzzing noise and looked around to see what it was. My body began to tingles and it felt like my eyelashes were standing on end. I threw my rod down and began to run until the feeling subsided. I thought I was about to become a crispy-critter!. After that, I grabbed my gear and walked around to meet BJ on the south side of the lake. I spooked a pig of a tiger on the way over. After lunch, I went out for more abuse. Without any more action, I called it a day. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

I made plans to pick Kyle up around 6:15am the next morning. Were planned to meet Cheif Wiggum on the way up to Pinder's Pond. But a missed exit in the fog left us headed the wrong direction. Wiggum went ahead of us and we planned to meet at Pinder's. As we rolled up, Dan and Charlie's had their lines in the water. We worked the shallow side for a few hours. Fish came and went, but none stayed to play on the end of my line. Dan successfully foul hooked a few Cutts in the mouth. Kyle was also able to coax a Cutt to his fly. The Tigers didn't seem to want anything to do with us. Just before leaving, I hooked into one, but it came unbuttoned faster then a prom dress.

We went to a stream running high and clear. I was intimidated by the fast, deep flow. I don't think I would have waded it had I not seen Dan and Charlie in it already. I'd never fished in water like this. I had difficulty getting my fly down deep enough. I spilt all my split-shot out as I tried to add more and more weight. Luckily it all fell into my pack and I was able to retrieve it.

We moved to a new spot after dropping Charlie off at another spot. Kyle gave me the secret weapon. As I tied it onto the end of my fly, Kyle and Dan walked ahead of me. I didn't see which way they went, and at first went the complete wrong way. After some prayers and a little luck, I spotted them. Dan had just missed a trout as I walked up. A few minutes later, Dan was hooked into a beast. It looked to be nice, but it never came to say hello. After a respectful fight, it headed down stream and spit the hook.

Kyle and Dan both picked up fish as I flogged the water. I had a great time even though the fish were prudes.