Three Hours North. Back. Then Three Hours South.

Another brilliant idea, let's not sleep for the next two days and fish our asses off in 100 degree heat. 
Since we were fishing Barrett the next day we wanted to get off the river by early afternoon so we could rest up and be fresh for the next day.  As it always happens we lost track of time and got out late and was stuck in traffic much of the way home but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I've caught a handful of smallmouth, none of any significant size, but I've never caught any in moving water.  Chul had never caught one period.  So we both had a mission to accomplish.  A trustworthy source let us know that the smallmouth fishing was fishing well in one of the few Southern Californian rivers that hold them.  This piece of intel was confirmed by the local flyshop that services this said river. The original plan was to fish Barrett on Wednesday and fish for smallies on Saturday but like most of our plans, this one went to shit.  For workweek convenience, we decided to make it a three day weekend and fish Friday.

With about three hours sleep I headed to Chul's house to begin our weekend of bittersweet bass action and we drove north in search of smallmouths.  After a quick bit to eat on the road we arrived at our destination and hike up a treacherous deer trail along the canyon.  Looking from above we could see the river and pregame our moves.  After finding a way down we fished a riffle and Chul was the first to hook up on a fish.  With violent head shakes he would ultimately lose his fish and potentially his first smallie.  I threw my Shenk's White Streamer along side the riffle and on two occasions a bass struck the fly as it hit the water.  Unable to set the hook fast enough, I lost my chance on my first fish of the day.   In time I was able to get one to stay on only to have it slip off once I got him in view below my feet.

Moving upstream, Chul finally connected with his first smallie.  I continued to have fish take but was unable to either set the hook fast enough or the fish would shake off.  Eventually we made it to a slower run where I finally hooked up on a river run smallmouth, all mine have been lake fish.  When I grabbed it to take a picture he made his getaway.  It was not long after I hooked into another and when I landed him I noticed it was not the quarry I was after but a largemouth instead.  After a streamside lunch we moved along the river catching more fish here and there.  Chul would just miss another goal of both of ours, a pike minnow, when he pulled the fly right out of its mouth. 

Fishing this river was more treacherous than I ever anticipated.  The river is low but the moss covered rocks makes wading a chore and slow.  The terrain is prime habitat for rattlesnakes.  Mountain lion tracks were found on the trail.  Along with huge piles of  bear scat. The elevated deer trial is a combination of crumpling limestone and  river sand.  I nearly slide down the canyon as I tried climbing out when my footing disintegrated beneath me.  "Great I'm going to die for eight inch fish" I said to Chul as he chuckled. He remarked he accomplished his mission and won't be returning here anytime soon if ever.  I agreed.  Hopefully our next smallmouth would be a legitimate sized one perhaps in one of our lakes or elsewhere such as the John Day.

We made it out of there alive and in one piece.  We made it back way later then planned.  I headed home to get ready for the next day.  Initially I had planned to nap in the afternoon and recharge my batteries but that plan was canned.  Chul arrived at my house to pick me up at 10pm to head down south now.  We arrived at the gate around 1am and we slept in his Nissan until we were allowed entry.  The story continues...

Kamo Seiro Soba

Kamo seiro soba is a cold noodle dish with a hot duck dipping sauce.  I had some left over duck from the other night and I decided to make this for lunch.

Ingredients
Duck Breast
Soba noodles
Dashi powder mixed with water
Soy
Sake
Mirin
Japanese Leeks or green onions

To cook the duck look at this post. Boil the water for the soba noodles and cook according to directions.  Cut the leeks into about a one inch pieces place on a hot pan.  Once you brown one side flip it to the other side. Once the other side is brown put all the liquids in the pot and bring to a simmer.  Once the soba noodles are cooked remove from the water.  DO NOT DISCARD THE COOKING WATER.  Put the cooking water in a small tea pot.  Under cold running water rinse the noodles and then place into bowl of iced water.  Drain and place on a bamboo soba mat top with shredded nori.  Place your sauce in bowl and enjoy.  Once you have finished your noodles pour the cooking water into your dipping sauce and drink it as a soup.  The cooking water is filled with nutrients from the noodles that have been removed in the cooking process.

Here Kitty Kitty...

Dark cloudy mornings have lingered until noon the past few days.  Today was no different and with that in mind I was awoken this morning from a call from Chul while driving home from work asking if I wanted to hit Prado to see if we could entice a bass or two on a popper.  After making sure I didn't have anything pressing that could not wait until the afternoon, I agreed and raced over to his place.  We loaded his pram into his Nissan and drove the short way to the lake and started throwing flies.  Over a hour or so of fruitless casting and despite still being overcast, Chul was the first to give up on the popper and changed to a clouser.  I continued with the topwater until Chul began getting some short strikes.  Finally his six weight bent and manged the first fish of the day.  The way the rod was bent it looked big.  When it finally surfaced, it turned out to be his first catfish on a fly.  Not huge but respectable for a six weight at 2.5 pounds.  It took me a while and I finally got my first and only tug of the day.  It too was a cat. When it got to the boat it gave one good splash and was loose before I could get it to hand.  Just as well I'd rather not touch that thing anyways.  The only bass was by Chul, a microdink the same size as his clouser and that was it for the day.

Video From Sunday

Those with delicate sensibilities, I'd suggest you lower the volume.

Into The Darkness

Considering today is a holiday and with yesterday's brutal day of two hours of sleep then fishing in nearly 100 degrees all morning, I chose to sleep in this morning.  When I awoke I found a text from Chul asking if I wanted to hit the local brown water for some popper fishing.  Apparently like a crack addict, he didn't get his fix yesterday.  I agreed to met up later tonight.

We met up just before 7 and headed off only to find a pair of fishermen at the hole I wanted to fish.  I believe we knew the two down there and I did not want to talk to those numbnuts so we drove to another section.    The river has changed so much since I used to frequent this place almost every other day and since I rarely fished it in the past year I wasn't too sure where the fish would be holding here. Immediately though I saw carp feeding and I switched over to a nymph but with the light fading it was difficult to see exactly which direction the carp were facing.  I couldn't get one so I switch my tactics to bass as originally planned. I managed only one juvenile that prevented me the skunk.  Chul was no so lucky.

After about an hour and half of fishing we gave up and headed to the local Asian market just before closing for some ice cream.

You Won't See Us Out There

Today is September First and for the wingshooter for most of the US means opening day for doves.  I did not partake.  Don't get me wrong I love being out in the field with my dog with my double barrel in hand but some of my previous outings have left me with a bad taste in my mouth.  First every numbnut with a shotgun and a hunting license is out here.  That means crowds.  While most hunters are good people there are a subset in our group that are complete idiots.  I've seen a moron shoot a dove and when it landed 5 yards in front of him, instead of going to retrieve the bird he shot it again blowing it to Smithereens laughing the whole time.  On another instance my father once took a pellet to the face from an idiot shooting low birds.  Luckily nothing happen other than a scare but he could have easily lost an eye or worse.  Fucking idiots.  Another reason is it's hot.  Africa hot.  That's not only hard on myself but it's grueling on the dog.  Also the heat brings out the rattlesnakes and that's the last thing I want to deal with.  I could always leave the dog home but I don't want to hunt without him.  So we'll see if I pass up this first dove season again or if I go out.  It's unlikely but if I do go out it will not be on a weekend when all the crowds go out or it will be because I was invited on private property and won't have to deal with the scum.  For now though the side by sides are staying in the cabinet.

After a Year Absence

Despite being one of my favorite bass lakes, I didn't fish Barrett at all last year.  As always tickets early in the season were next to impossible to obtain and with the low water year, reports in the early part of the season were poor.  So when opening day approached this year, with another dry year, I didn't even bother trying, nor did I even bother looking at reports.  Freshwater fishing in general particularly freshwater bass fishing has been poor throughout SoCal and up until last week I ignored looking up reports of Barrett assuming it was the same.  According to those reports, Barrett was only having roughly 4 boats leaving the dock each fishing day.  Shocking considering this lake normally sells out.  I concluded that most are unwilling to pay the high fees to fish here when the open ocean is currently producing some serious tuna action.  Despite the low number of anglers entering this reservoir, the gear anglers were reporting over 70 fish days.  So I ordered a ticket.

Chul and I arrived at the gate just after 1am and we slept in the Rover until we were awoken at 4:30am by the lights of the lake manager driving toward us to allow us entry.  I brought three rods with me, my ten weight for poppers, my nine weight for bulky submerged flies and my newly fixed five weight for my general subsurface fishing.  It was still dark when we started just past 5am.  My Sage RPLX ten weight is matched with a Charlton reel lined with an eleven weight line.  Years ago my buddy, Bryan Webb, gave me a box full of his bass flies, included was a massive hard foam popper with a rattle.  It has sat in that box for ages until I decided a few days prior to this outing that I wanted to fish it to try and lure one of the pigs out of its lair. 

It was not long before I threw this massive fly that the first fish took.  With only a headlamp for illumination I couldn't even see the take and only heard a massive gulp and splash of water so I set the hook.  I had no clue what I had on at the end of the line all I knew was that even with a  ten weight this fish had some heft and was pulling the boat around.  Eventually I pulled him out of the water and saw it's size.   After bogaing him at 5 pounds I released him.  It took Chul sometime to get his first fish on topwater, it happened  just after the sun started peaking through the mountains.  He managed at least three or so missing several on the surface.  I could not get another fish to stick on my popper despite having at least three attack my fly.  With the sun shining through we switched to sinking lines.  I started with the nine but gave up after tiring throwing big flies so I moved to the five weight.

We moved to the point Ed and I like to start when we fish together.  Putting his Sage Bass rod down, Chul fished his seven weight with a 330 grain line and was taking fish after fish with a shad pattern he tied last night.  He managed the only crappie of the day which was a good size.  I finally managed my first subsurface bass after a wolf pack attacked the shad just behind us.  I threw my ASSF at the boils and within seconds I was on.  Roughly 1.5 pounds or slightly greater.  Chul caught fish here and there but I couldn't get another one until I switched to the nine again this time with a new shad pattern I created.  I concluded that my line 150 grain line was simply not getting to the fish.   Once I did that I started sticking fish, all our fish were in the 2 pound range and lower.  Hauser was loaded with fish boiling on shad and many of our fish were taken by throwing in these wolf packs.  On one session I was three for three, three bass on three casts.

We reached the end of Hauser and switched to our lighter rods, the five for me and four for Chul, to fish the submerged timber.   We managed a few bass in the pound range within the wood and Chul managed a bluegill.  He had now caught just about every species in this lake, expect for a smallmouth which may no longer exist here.  We also caught a fish on each of our rods that we brought.  The most successful flies for us were shad patterns with a lot of flash. I created a few flies that all had success.  I'm not sure how many fish we ended up with but I'm guessing at least ten a piece.  This was not considered a stellar result by Barrett standards but it was a solid outing considering most of our recent fishing trips have been left a poor taste in our mouths.  After 11am the winds became too much for our fly lines and by noon we gave up to head out for some lunch. 

Drought conditions have not been kind to California watering holes, and Barret is no exception.  The lake has completely changed to what I am used to, it was like fishing a completely new lake.  All my favorite fishing spots were now at ;east forty feet above water.  In the past fishing my 150 grain line was sufficient as I was throwing flies to lurking bass in the vegetation.  Now fishing along the banks is mostly fishing  boulders and dropoffs so the lighter line wasn't very productive.  Hauser and Pine are completely different.  Both are barely arms now and significantly shorter.  Islands that once existed are no more and are now mountains.  I should have taken more pictures of the contours for future reference when the lake fills up again.  If I return again this year I will have to do that.

Twilight Topwater

Dinner took longer than I anticipated and was left with only about 20 minutes of light by the time I arrived on the water.  Hastily I put on my waders and cut off the old fly I used last time in favor of a foam body popper.  Within less than five minutes I was on my first bass, no more than one pound if that.  I lost two more that I felt the line go heavy but was unable to set the hook.  Must have been grabbing the tail.  With the sun down, I managed one more of similar size before I called it quits. Not bad for less than forty minutes on the water.

Preseason Warm Up

With the season forthcoming and since I haven't shot with Mike in a couple years, I decided to hit the skeet range.  I was also able to meet Mike's new pup, Lizzy, a pointing black lab.  The old man and I shot our side by side Merkels but Mike left his side by sides home in favor of his Benelli Ultralight.  This is the gun he takes every year to South Dakota for pheasants and since he is required to shoot nontox there he has moved away from hunting with his double barrels.  He used to use his Garbi, WC Scott or AyA but he grew tried of paying for bismuth rounds and now sticks with the Benelli that can shot safely with steel.  Mike as always showed us up  but  I actually shot better than I expected considering I haven't picked up a double since last season.  I still need to shake the rust off though.

Sleep>Dink Bass

I got thirty minutes of sleep before my alarm went off and had to get ready before Chul came and picked me up at 4am to head down to San Diego Bay.  Fishing was slow with only a few fish caught none of them worth photographing.  I should have just slept in.  Though I haven't gotten a full report and only a brief text, my buddy Luc, on the other hand, apparently slammed it in the open water with the tuna. 

Bassin' The Brown Water

Its been awhile since the last time I really fished my local brown water.  For over a year everytime I drove past I noticed that the water was always up, making sight casting to carp nearly impossible so I simply gave up on the matter.  With most of our recent outings a bust, I decided to check the brown water once again and target bass this time.  After a lengthy discussion of our hatred of hipster sportsmen posers, Chul and I hit the water.  In all honesty I didn't have much faith but  after only five casts, I hooked up on a fairly respectable largemouth.

The river has changed and while it looks like there is a lot of water, there are plenty of areas to sight cast to carp in the shallows.   When we saw a few we switched tactics and I removed my bunny leech in favor for a Prince Harry Aggravator.   Unfortunately we had no success today with the golden ghost.  The wind made it problematic to make a proper presentation.  Despite the lack of carp we found several spots with baby and juvenile bass which would take my fly on every cast.

The Mountains Maybe On Fire But The Bay Was Not

Plan A, trout fishing the East Fork, was cancelled when Chul made his ride home and noticed the smoke coming from the San Gabriel mountains.  So instead we loaded his pram and headed out to the bay.  On arrival we missed the optimum portion of the tide swing and only fished the tail end.  On my first cast I managed a dink calico which proved to be my only fish of the day.  Chul managed a handful of dinks and the fishing completely stopped. 

Should Have Been Here Last Week...

In the early 2000s I spent a lot of time fly fishing the surf, eventually I grew bored with it and moved on like most in the scene.  But I needed to feel the tug of a fish today and with reports of corbina being taken with regularity last week, I finally motivated myself to get out and try my luck.   A number of corbina were spotted throughout the two hours of fishing this afternoon but none were willing.  Winds, crowds, and quick sets between choppy waves made catching one of these elusive fish problematic.  Today only confirmed to me why I dislike this type of fishing and why I gave it up a decade ago.  Despite that, if I go back out I'll have to go out early in the morning so I can avoid the circus and winds to improve my chances.

Reports last week were good.  One of many corbina caught last week.

Back From The Vaterland

Earlier this year on a turkey hunt, my Lowa Scout backpacking boots failed and the soles came apart.  The boots were over a decade old and, to be honest, not really cared for properly as I rarely cleaned them.  So when I came home from that trip I called Lowa regarding a repair.  After confirming that these boots were indeed repairable, I sent them to Lowa USA.

I got them back last week.  For $85, Lowa USA returned them to Germany to have the mid and outer soles replaced.  In addition they gave me new footbeds, laces and refurbished the leather with treatment.

Included also was a vial of Lowa active creme.  The boots are now as good as new.  Not bad for $85.

Back To The Bay

With our fishing itch not scratched from our last trip, we hit the bay in the hopes of some action.  Fishing was slow and Chul only managed two dinks.  I managed to complete the Salt Water Bay Slam, a Calico, Sand, and Spotted Bay Bass.  Albeit the calico and sand bass were dinks.  In fact the sand bass was the smallest I've ever caught.  I suppose that is some sort of accomplishment.  The Spotties though were legit both were a pound and half.  Years ago those were the norm, now they seem, harder and harder to find.

Never seen a Chinook this low and close to the beach in this area.  I wonder what the boys of Pendleton were doing here.

My second spotted bay bass.  Both about 1.5 pounders although this was slightly smaller.

The first fish of the day.  A dink calico.

The smallest sand bass I've ever caught.  It's about the size of our local trout.

Last Day-No Chance For A Lunker

Having not attached our rain flies on our tents, we awoke to a few droplets of water hitting us in the face.  Throughout the weekend we had evening clouds but none ever produced any threat of real rain.  On this morning though that had changed and thunderstorms echoed in the canyon.  We broke down our camp and packed the truck.  The rain started the come down with more consistency so we headed to a nearby restaurant for breakfast to wait out the rain.  On one of the first trips Chul took with Tuck here, Chul had awaken in the middle of the night and saw a big black bear sniffing Tuck while he slept in his hammock.  Luckily Tuck was not harmed nor did he even know he was just about to be bear food until the following morning.  So I guess a little rain isn't so bad and it could have been worse.

Coming to the conclusion that the bigger fish were not holding in the typical water, we had strategized the night before on how to approach these fish.    It was time to test our theory.  After about what seemed like eternity to get our food, we finally finished our meal.  By the time we left the restaurant the rain was still falling but now the wind had picked up.  It was really howling now, evidenced by this picture above (look at the bush at the lower right hand corner).

After attempting to fish our nymph rigs it became clear as day that fishing in such conditions would be futile.  So scrapped our plan and headed out of this canyon. 

It was our intention to head home but we decided to check out a nearby lake on the way out.  The storm had passed this area so at least it would be calm.  Throwing streamers from the banks, we tried to lure a fish out but none were taking.  After about the second cast I was already over it.  Fishing stillwater from the banks is hardly my ideal of fun.  So we headed out and checked out some tourist attractions before deciding to check out a small creek.
Neither of us had fished this water so we could at least scratch it from our list.  It was small water similar to our local waters so we weren't expecting much in terms of size.

The fish were small but vibrant and at least willing to take a dry.  Armed with my Sage XP 5 weight I was completely overgunned.  I flung many fish out of the water while setting the hook.  I wished I had my 1 weight.  After several dinks I saw up head in a small pool an aggressive rise, I approached and made a relatively long cast and the fish took.  It was decent (for this water) brown.

Chul managed a dink brookie, and after that I tried my best to get one myself but only rainbows wished to take my fly.  After little more than an hour or so we called the trip quits to head home slightly disappointed and let down.  Though we caught several fish, our expectations were greater with thoughts of 18 inchers and we still didn't have of itch really scratched but I suppose that is fishing.

Day Two- Not Quite What We Were Expecting

After waking and having breakfast we headed down to the river along our campsite.  We started with dries and it was not long before fish started to take my Never Sink Trude.  Chul had noticed that the water had dropped at least two feet from the last time he fished here three weeks ago.

Chul brought a stomach pump to see what the fish were eating and he found out that the fish were consuming just about everything.  Most flies were tan to olive colored from sizes 18 to 14 for the mayflies and larger stones were size 10 to 8.  After a couple hours of dry fly fishing catching fish similar to teh previous day's, we decided to move further downstream to nymph the bigger fish.

Water downstream is faster, larger and more treacherous so I took each step carefully.  We started at a big hole we were confident that held fish.  None were willing to take my golden stone nor my two buck chuck fly dropper.  Chul fishing at the end of the run managed one before moving further downstream.  As I moved to him I saw a covey of mountain quail brood.  It's nice to see the quail breeding despite the drought conditions.

It took me a couple hours before I could get a fish to take one of my nymphs after I switched to a filo fly.  The fish took the filo fly in both original tie and Kern emerger style, a Kern emerger hare's ear, and a Stalcup biot mayfly nymph.

At about 1pm we headed back to camp for lunch and a little siesta.  The morning session was disappointing as none of the fish with any size showed.  Typical holding areas that I like to fish held none or at least none were willing to take my fly.  Chul suggested I fish more of the faster water as that was where he was taking his fish on a bird's nest.

With no big fish making an appearance down river, we moved upstream to a tributary for some dry fly fishing.  Once we made it to the water though the BOA wire on my Simm's boots came apart.  So we made it back to the truck and I borrowed Chul's boot.  He was fishing with river shoes and had brought his Simm's as a back up.  I'm not having too much luck with boots lately.  We choose then to leave the tributary and returned to the main river.  To get there though we crossed a fern field that showed evidence of a big bear.  We first found a large pile of scat.  Later we found his bedding as a large area of ferns were matted down.

As we moved into the fern field we saw more evidence of this big bear.  Rotting logs were torn apart and there were several raspberry bushes.  Since the ferns were  about waist high we wisely decided to no longer take this route as we did not want to surprise a napping bear.  We got out of this field and took the long way around in a more open area.

This particular area was a shallow area perfect for dry fly fishing.  The Never Sink continued to produce fish.

Trout still were unimpressive, at least for this river, and most were at best in the nine inch range.  They were nicely colored though but I couldn't still feel disappointed despite the numbers were were catching.

Chul moved to his favorite area that had a long section of a deeper faster run.  I left him there moving downstream as he re-rigged to Czech nymph.  I moved down until I ran into another fishermen so I moved back to Chul.  As I approached him I saw he hooked up on a rather nice fish only to see it break off.  When I finally reached him he said it was a 15 incher and how the hell did it break his 5X tippet.  Later we were trying to analyze how the fluorocarbon failed.  The only thing we could come up with was that since he keeps his vest in his garage the heat must have compromised the line.  I moved upstream and fished a hole right in front of a fallen log.  After a few dinks I managed my best fish of the trip.  According to Chul this fish would have been considered disappointing on any of his previous trips.  Not sure what has happened to this river.

Making our way back to the truck we checked out a nearby waterfall and fished some of the pools.  I managed a few dinks and Chul manged a nice 12 incher that had swallowed a hook deep and had about 20 pound mono sticking out of it.

By this time we began to get ready for the evening hatch.  We checked another area down river that has produced in the past.  Again the hatch did not occur until just before the sun went down.  At this section the fish were rising more consistently.  I managed several on a parachute PMD. 

It was getting to dark to safely fish and we headed back to camp.  I prepared steaks for us in a Japanese style with grated daikon, chives, fried garlic, and soy, served with Japanese potato salad.  Drizzle had us concerned that we might get pissed on during the night.