Weekend Escape for Trout (video coming soon)

It's official, I've moved to the mountains to start working with owls. Unfortunately we've had a lot of down time due to all the snow. Not much is open in the Georgetown area, so it didn't take long before I got the itch to find some fishy water. We ended work early on Friday and after making a few calls I decided to hit the Little Truckee River again since it would still have limited access and thus very few people. I packed my bag and hitched a ride with my co-worker, Haruka, as she headed home to Reno for the weekend.

The first sight I'm greeted with at the Boca Reservoir campground was a cluster of large Ford trucks at the edge of the lake. I decided to set up camp a good distance from this group because I foresaw lots of general shenanigans in their future. The minute I started to leave, one of the truck campers comes out from behind their armada armed with a BB gun and tries to shoot a seagull out of the air. Yup, just as I suspected, yahoos. Nic joined me for dinner later that evening and we enjoyed listening to the sounds of engines reving, cheap rock tunes, and drunken idiots on too small boats playing gently from afar. Ahh the wilderness, God's gift to man.

Cool moon out this weekend, no wonder everyone was howling.

The next morning I moved camp to the Boyington Mill site further up river to further distance myself from the yahoos and to gain closer access the the best fishing sections. Since Nic's car was filled to the brim with his crap, I strapped my backpack to the top and stood on the icy bumper holding an icy rail. I almost lost it going through a few snow piles, but made it through in the end.

Set up camp again, made coffee, dawned my fishing gear and was off, not wanting to waste any fishable hours. A few trucks were able to make it all the way through to the upper lot, so I wouldn't be the only one out there, but for the first few hours I was. The fishing was slow at first with only two hook-ups before 11 AM with one landed. After that it went off the hook (ha, pun!). I hooked three in the Lightening hole in about an hour, landing two, all on the same red copper john. Then I moved down to the 610 hole, my bread and butter. There was one guy fishing the middle section of it, and he came out to talk to me as I walked by. We shot the shit for a bit over a cup of coffee, then he move up river and I move in on one of the outer seams of 610. Twenty minutes lately a Blue Winged olive hatch started and lots of big fish moved into the shallows to sip them up. During the next two hours that the hatch persisted I caught 5 fish between 18-20” from one main pod. The last fish I caught was actually the first one the rose to my fly, but the hook failed to stick. After that he teased me continuously, following my flies as they drifted over him, but never eating them. After all the other fish had been caught and released, he was the last to be seen contentedly sucking up bugs. The hatch was dwindling down and it seemed like he was going after something different. I decided to tie on one of my freshly made winter stone dries and sure enough he greedily gulped it down after two casts.

Fish Porn:






I think this fish might be a cutthroat/rainbow hybrid, but I'm not sure exactly what the Little Truckee has in it. I only noticed very slight orange blotches under the gill plates, but nothing definitive. Very beautiful fish though.




I moved down river after that and spotted a large fish hanging near the bottom of a deep bend pool. There were some big eddies and other currents pushing and pulling, so it was hard to get a drift at the fish, so I tried high-sticking with a bunch of lead and a big stonefly. Eventually my line seem to go taught so I instinctually set the hook. There is a flash of light as a big head starts shaking under water and my rod tip bends deeply. The heavy current and steep bank make the fight all the more difficult, but I eventually manage to subdue the large brown (see video for image).

I hiked the river all the way back to camp, scouting unknown sections for future use, but the brown was the last fish of the day. Final tally: 9 fish landed, 5 other people seen, ~4 miles hike, and 1 huge sunburn.

The following day was not as productive as strange weather was brewing. I managed two fish on nymphs, including this incredibly hook-jawed male that came way out of his hiding spot to nail my swinging fly.


I made it back to camp early, found some cell reception and got the news that Nic was going to come get me before the storm really hit that night. Getting myself and my gear into his car was a squeeze to say the least, but I was grateful to be heading to a cabin with a leak-proof roof. Beers, more cribbage, and old movies ended this weekend warrior's trip. Thanks to Nic and Haruka for the rides and company, I wouldn't have been the same without you.