Should Have Worn Snow Shoes

 Dec 20, 2021

In the morning I made a simple breakfast of bacon and egg sandwiches before heading north to the frozen tundra.  The morning was cold and will be evening colder when we made elevation.  I never did get cold though sleeping in the Rover.  The night got down to 21 degrees but my zero degree down bag and my Germany Army wool blanket kept me warm. 

We left to drive up the 395 and once we reached the crest we slowed down and started drive more gingerly as ice was now on the road.  Last winter on a trip by himself Chul spun out on the turn at Benton Crossing at took out the stop sign.  Neither one of us needed a repeat of that so we took that turn cautiously as it that section was still iced over.

We got to the water and there was already at least ten trucks parked at the entrance.  A lot of anglers.  As we started to get of gear together we debated whether to bring the snow shoes.   Thinking the anglers ahead of us already blazed a trail for us we opted to to leave them behind.  It proved a mistake as even hiking in that packed snow was not as easy as we thought.  As we made our way upstream Chul's boots began to contract from the cold and bind on his toes causing extreme pain.  We didn't even make it to the Hot Creek Confluence before we started to fish but with about ten groups ahead of us and with Chul in pain we decided to fish downstream and head back to the trucks.  I maybe had one hit and that was it.  Slow fishing.

When we reached the parking lot we chatted up a guy in a Van conversion.  He had camped there for the night in -6 degree weather and had his battery died.  I offered him a jump with my portable jumper battery.  At first he declined as he had AAA on the way but later reconsidered figuring better go with a sure thing than wait for someone.  So when I reached my truck and got the charger and then hooked it onto his battery but with no luck.  This van was a rental and he told me the battery compartment was in the back.  Now that I think of it I don't believe that was the car battery but the battery for the mobile home section. So that may have the reason we couldn't jump it.  I did what I could and he'd have to just wait for AAA.  We proceeded to head down the valley but we'd stop for lunch before we did.

For a couple years KB had told me how good the spaghetti and meatballs were at the Shell station at Crawley so we decided to check it out.  They didn't have that item that day so we got meatball sandwiches instead.  Wasn't bad for gas station food but wasn't anything to write home about.  After the quick bite we headed down south back to the Lower in the hopes there was still a dry fly bite.  We'd fish further down than yesterday and it suck.

We went back to camp and I decided it wasn't worth staying the night only to fish a couple hours the next day.  I figured it was better to just go home rather than spend the night in the cold.  On the way though we'd stop at Victorville to get some burgers at Freddy's, one of their few locations in California.

Winter in the Sierra

 December 19, 2021

Snow season is upon us and it was time to use our fishing license before the year ends.  In between storms we decided to check out.  First day I woke up early so I'd be on the road before 6am.  Drove up to meet Chul in Bishop.  The plan was to met up at Mahogany Meats for breakfast burritos.  I got there before Chul and ordered two while I waited for him.  They then told me that they quit serving breakfast at 10:30am.  Not knowing what time it was I checked my watch only to see it was 10:35.  Oh brother.  

 

I walked out to call Chul to see what he wanted instead but once I got into the parking lot he arrived.  Disappointed we decided to make our own sandwiches.  After eating we left for the Lower and fished the Wild Trout Section.

The night prior I set my rigs up knowing I did not want to deal with knots and tiny flies in the cold.  I knew I'd have compromised dexterity in such an environment so I wanted to do it the night before.  While I had everything for my nymph set up, for my dry fly set up all I had was a 20 year old 7x leader I bought in Japan.  That night I would test the strength of the line and it seemed okay.  I'd tug on it and it held so I figured to try it.  I'd buy some  6x leaders at Regan's before stopping at Mahogany's.  Too lazy to re-rig I kept the old leader on with the hope it would hold.  I was wrong and after losing two fish I put on the new leader.  The new leader held up and we manged several fish to hand on dries before making camp.  When planning this trip I wanted to camp in the snow at elevation just to test my equipment.  Chul talked me out of it and we camped down in the valley.

Local August 7, 11. Hot Creek August 17, 2020

 August 7, 2020

Over 10.5 miles today on land, not counting on water miles. Gave up on this place during the drought years when I returned after years of fishing elsewhere in the LA mountains only to find the place devoid of any fish. Decided to return and check it out after hearing promising reports. Fish are back and bigger than average from heyday years past. The fish are strong, feel heavier and fight above their weight class. Not all news is good unfortunately. On at least five occasions we had to divert off-trail to avoid some asshole's (word chosen carefully) shit on the trail. Fudge smeared shit-tickets next to a steaming pile landmined the pathway. These fucktards didn't even have the courtesy of kicking a little dirt over it. Reminds me of the infinite wisdom of Detective Lieutenant John McClane “Fucking California.”

August 11, 2020

Put in 8 miles today before the stupid heatwave kills us all. A good mix of local trout ranging from micro dinks to some respectable models.

August 17 

Needed to make a quick run up to the Sierra to drop off Chul's pram for his buddy.  The boat had served us well but it simply wasn't used anymore and took too much space in his garage.  Space I would need to park my truck while we took off for another week long adventure.

So I road shotgun on this impromptu trip.  Fishing wouldn't be the priority but we'd get a few casts in with Cameron as the sun was setting.  But before he arrived we'd fish without him and while we saw some hogs they'd already been hassled enough that they wouldn't bothered looking at our flies.  Cameron arrived just before the sun was setting and I was making 90 foot casts to the other side of the bank to rising fish but too much drag was hindering my presentation.  As a light rain came down we fished into the darkness but no fish was willing take this evening. 

Travel Day: Heading Home

February 20, 2018

We woke up, packed our stuff, cleaned the timeshare before headed home.  It was a tough trip and like any fishing trip we can't control the weather.  Had we'd been there a week earlier the river would have been much better and we wouldn't have had to divert our plans toward Pyramid.   On the way back we stopped by at Hot Creek to break up the long drive and do a little bit of dry fly fishing before ending our trip officially.

I wanted to try out my new Orvis 8 foot 4 weight.  Fish were plentiful and stacked along the river.  We only would fish a short period just to get it out of the system.  Fish were rising by the time we arrived around 10am.

Easy fishing for mix of dinks bows and browns for the next 45 minutes to an hour until we gave up and headed home for the long drive back to the real world.

Last Chance to Advantage of the 2017 Fishing License: Day Three

December 29

We debated whether to stay the night or just head home to avoid the New Years traffic.  Having already paid for the room for the night and convinced the owners weren't going to give us a refund we decided to spend the night at the roach motel and fish until noon.

Started early to beat the crowds and managed to reach an area close to hole we managed the nice buck and hen.  Morning was cold in the 30s and fishing was slow although I did mange a few fish in the foot long range early.

We fished Big Bend and on the first two casts I managed another pair of 12 inchers at the head of the hole but did not produce any more fish.  By this time we were coming close to noon, our deadline.  We fished a few holes on the way back to the truck.  On the last hole, Chul and I fished it together,  He took the head I took the tail.  After several drifters I heard him reeling his line in and say "I'm done."  Just when he finished his sentence, my bobber dunked and I set the hook.   It ended up being the best fish of the trip.  After he helped me land the buck, he started ripping line out and gave the hole another shot.  It was not long before he too was on a nice hen.

After that it was time to head home after a instant ramen lunch at the truck.  And so concluded my 2017 fishing season.

End of Year Run: Day Two

December 28

After the dismal showing of the previous day, we had decided to head up to the East Walker but after checking that flows had been raised a few days before we decided against it.  Another night of two hours of sleep.  I managed to fall asleep quite easily but woke up an hour after doing so as I could not comfortably set the heater to a consistent level.  The room was so stuffy it was hard to breathe.  I must have adjusted that thing a dozen times.  Also it didn't help that my fishing buddy had mentioned every disgusting thing in the room, such as the carpet wasn't vacuumed, the moldy chalking in the shower, the disgusting mess behind the bedside table.   I realize it's roach motel but I do not want to hear about it.  When staying in these types of dumps, the best policy is out of sight out of mind.  The whole night was obsessing who disgusting the place was.  My buddy woke at 5am and asked me why I'm still up.  After that I managed to get another hour in before waking up.

We headed up after a breakfast burrito and tried to start fishing at one of our favorite holes.  It was already taken so we fished just below it and I manged two resident fish.  Nothing substantial or anything to write home about but the skunk was off early unlike the day prior.  It was cold in the morning in the mid 30s.  Frost was still on the grass.  We decided to head further upstream and fish from there.

Upstream was already filled with fishermen but we managed to find a few spots that were untouched.  Between 10-noon the fishing picked up as the air heated.  We managed a couple of nice migratory specimens in the process.  We headed for lunch at the truck a few miles away.   Now in the 60s, I wanted to start shedding layers as we made our way back.  Fishing was tough but at least we managed a few .  After a long lunch talking we fellow anglers parked near us we decided to take it easy and fish small dry flies at Hot Creek.

I didn't have any tapered leaders on me, so I used an old worn out leader Chul had in his vest.  I added some tippet of 5x and 6x to lengthen it to 9.5 to 10 feet and headed to the Interpretive site of the water.

We had an hour of light left and fish were already rising.  None were of any size.  I've never fished this section so I went upstream a bit to check it out as my fishing partner took the first hole we saw rising fish.  After fishing a few holes but none were very productive and the fact that the setting sun was blinding me I headed back to my buddy.  He asked me if I wanted to fish his hole and I took it.  I casted my comparadun without any success and the Chul gave me one of his flies, a BWO emerger.  It was not long before I was onto some fish.  After a few fish it seemed a lot of weeds were floating downstream and the fishing ceased which was fine as we basically had our fill for the day.  It was nice change of pace from the fishing we were doing just a few hours before. To be continued for the final day...

End of Year Run: Day One

December 27

Since my last sierra run just prior to Thanksgiving, I've been itching to come back and getting into some of those pseudo-steelhead.  After getting about two hours of sleep I woke up early to headed up my buddy's house for the long drive north

I've yet to find a truly decent breakfast in Bishop and after searching the internet for another option I did find a cafe that was worth looking into.  Pupfish Cafe is located with in the Spellbinder bookstore and is more a coffee shop than a cafe.  It serves sandwiches and waffles.  There is no kitchen just a prep area behind the counter.  Looking through the menu I decided to try the Norwegian, an avocado toast topped with smoked salmon and a cilantro pesto.  A decent light breakfast but a bit pricey for what it is.

Several trucks were already on water when we arrived and while we were preparing ourselves to to fish two other vehicles pulled up next to our parking spot.  Since they both were waderless the manage to hit the water before us and fish the hoes we had planned on starting.  The day went on such as this and we couldn't find a hole that wasn't already blown up.

I managed to hook three fish for the day none with any substantial size.  I lost two in the 12-13 inch range and the only fish I landed was a micro dink that would rival a San Gabriel fish.  After hours of agony it was time to head to the truck and make a sandwich from left over Christmas prime rib.  The afternoon fishing fared no more better.  Soon it was time to head into town and sleep in the ultimate roach motel.  To be continued...

Three Day East Side Run November 19-21

3:30 am my iphone alarm goes off.  Groggy and delirious, I'm upset that my phone has just woken me up until I realized I set it the night before so I could meet my buddy, The Shermanator, at his house for our three day eastside trip.  I've not fished with the Shermanator for over a decade; he was one of my first real reliable and dedicated fly fishing buddies.  Before that, title belong to my good friend Joel but once he started having kids, I didn't see or hear from him until a decade later.  And like Joel, once the Shermanator had kids, fishing with him became no more.

This trip is most likely Sherman's last fishing adventure in California before he escapes this state into the outdoor paradise of the Pacific Northwest.  I arrived at his place at the scheduled 4am and unloaded the contents of my Rover into his truck.  Within a few minutes we were off, northbound to the sierra.  After sevral hours on the road our first stop would be breakfast in Bishop before hitting the Upper.

Fishing wasn't great but I managed a couple of fish and lost a nice one about four pounds just at the net.  The migratory rainbow jumped three times, then caught the riffle and ran downstream.  Once subdued, it decided it did not want to be netted and it decided to surge once again.  After a few tugs I had it's head above water and Richard went in for the net once again but fish rotated to the other side and popped the hook.  A shame as that would have been the best fish of the trip.  Another shame was just before that hole, I found a dead brown.  Not sure if he was a victim of nature or a careless angler with poor handling skills.  I'll never know but I certainly hope it was the former rather than the later.  Continuing on, we moved upstream looking for some more willing toads but none would oblige.  I spooked a number of fish in 20 plus category but of course I always found myself on wrong side of the bank to make a proper cast to them.  With only about 45 minutes left of light we called it a day.

We decided to camp the first night.  Beat from the lack of sleep and the days efforts, we called it a night early and went to bed around 8pm.  I awoke around 3am and couldnt fall back asleep.  Once the sun rose we broke down camp and headed northward to our next destination.

Day Two
By 10am we were on the water.  Richard was on early.  I followed suit with many to follow.  Rich lost a 22+ brown that refused to budge until it finally spit the hook.  I managed a not as nice but nonetheless respectable brown.  While the length was not overly impressive, this fish was fat and football shaped.  A nice healthy specimen.  For the day I had at least 30 hook ups and I probably had 10 to hand.  One hole alone produced a minimum of 20 hook ups between the two of us and 8-10 to hand.

Day Three
We fished the same areas again from the previous day.  Didn't have as much success as the day prior which is understandable.  We fished together again switching off each hole.  If I fished a good hole the day before, Sherman would have the first crack this day and vice versa.  On my first hole, where I caught the nice brown, I managed a brown and a rainbow.   Neither spectacular but nice enough.  We did managed a double here as Richard fished the hole above me.  Soon it shut down for me until I noticed that my indicator slipped and I was only fishing the top column of the river.  After a quick fix it was no time my bobber was again dunking and yet still could not hook up.  Most of these indicator dunks were very fishlike and even felt as if a fish was on when I set the hook.  Rich was on fish it seemed everytime I turned my head and I wondered what he was doing I wasn't.  I soon realized one of my flies was without a hook.  After replacing the broken fly I managed two more fish later in the day at the "gloryhole."  Richard also had a number of fish at this hole as well.   By noon it was time to quit.  On drive home we were stopped on the 395 as a big rig slid off the road.  Looks like a few people won't be getting their Amazon shipments on time.