The 15 is almost the halfway point in October. In most years this means only 16-32 days left in our fly fishing season. Our (very few and far between) trout streams close at midnight October 31st and the beginning of ice on the lakes is not far away. We have manage to get on a lake as late as November 18th, but that is a rarity.
Last time I was at Lyon’s, it was an epic skunking. Sure it was the height of summer but never have I been shut out on this lake.
Things are somewhat back to normal now.
9 Trout to hand mostly in the 12″ range the one that made it to the net but not photogenically, was a fair piece larger maybe 16″. All but the bigger one, was a jumper making amazing leaps out of the water, probably only because I didn’t film it
OF course the pictures Except for the perch they are clones of each other. I could have take the same fish and re-positioned it over and over and the effect would have been the same Please excuse the lower quality of the photo as I was trying a lower resolution to same time on editing later.
Facebook keeps giving you old posts from the past. This week it reminded me of a very successful outing on Anton’s Lake (just past Minnidosa) from a year ago.
Heck just this spring I had a good time as well
So, on Friday I headed out there to repeat the magic.
Well, as the saying goes, that is why they call it fishing.
For one thing it was windy. I usually time my trips to these aerated lakes based on the wind. Even a little wind can make these sheltered, featureless lakes surrounded by miles of featureless prairie, a challenge.
A challenge with staying on a spot, wind knots, casting accuracy, with flies presented, etc. It didn’t seem to matter what fly I put on I got the same reactions, light bites, hits some brief struggles, LDR’s and a couple lost at the boat.
The other fishers did about the same.
For me it was one fish to hand.
I haven’t been out since the camping trip and not much since June. I tend to go away in the summer because it is so hot here and the fishing so poor that it is a waste of gas. So when the weather finally cooled off a bit I decided to hit my on again off again brook trout spot. It is quite a drive and quite a secret. The fish are small, quite a bit of tramping so not for everyone. But we keep it secret because all that won’t stop assholes from trying and therefore ruining it.
In the spring the whole area is great and stays good through most of the summer but, when the water levels drop they become harder to find. On top of the local beaver population is turning great runs in to silt pits.
I hit the lower section to only catch chubs.
As the chubs got bigger and the hits more frequent I thought I would get to ‘that run’ that always seems to have ‘real’ fish.
Looking up from my last chub I saw a large black bear walk out of the bush straight to that run. I reeled up and was going to make way back to the car. I waited to see if there were cubs and when I didn’t I took two steps down stream to see where it went, only to see it eye to eye. I booked it out of there making those ‘gruff and chuff’ sounds while I was I was also cursing myself for not making more noise, while out there alone, in fairly remote woods! I should have also notice how ripe the wild forage was!
Having made it back to the car in record time, I drove up stream to another access point.
The place is beautiful.
After wandering around the once nice runs that a beaver has turned into fish less silt pit, I finally found some fish.
After all that driving a bear, running and marsh hiking I didn’t have to budge an inch to catch my fill of these beauties!