Chernobyl Surprise

If you would have told me before my trip, I would have said you're nuts.

"They're eating ants"  The guy with a South African accent said to me as we passed him on our way to the next spot down the lake to throw chronomids.

Huh?  Ants?  Like a small cinnamon ant or something?

"No, big chernobyl ants"

Now I've fished this lake for at least 10 years, at least 3 days in each trip, so lets say I've sat in my pontoon boat for 30+ days and not once had I heard or read about for that matter that these fish key in on ants.   The lakes food chain has always been a smorgasbord of midges, damsels, scuds, dragonflies and the star of the show, callibaetis.  

Now this dude is telling me ants.  He's either crazy or very smart.

First cast with the ant and the fish sipped it down like it was a mayfly spinner.  I got so excited I went all Bill Dance, set too hard and broke the fish off.  At that point I was out of the secret sauce but my fishing partner was putting the hammer down.

Ants, big ass nasty leggy black chernobyl ants.

That night at camp we scoured our fly boxes to find reasonable copies and when the time was right the next day, many a fish was surprised to find our bugs bit back.

When you think you have it all figured out on a piece of water, I can assure you, you dont.    Be on on the lookout for guys with South African accents and take their tips to heart.  Maybe that dude has the missing piece of the puzzle.

It's a Strange, Strange Landscape....

The Basalt columns and cliffs contain the rookery of a couple thousand geese and they let you know, they aint happy about you coming near them.

The farmland you travel through to get to this lake is so uber efficient in their farming practices it would be a miracle if a ditch parrot could survive the onslaught.

The whole place just feels out of place.  You drop into a massive coulee and there it is.  Narrow and deep and long.  It's the kind of place you dont want to press your luck with the pontoon and make sure your motor is in good working order, with a kicker to back you up.

On one occasion, we got the bright idea to take a old 10 ft Livingston style boat to the back end of the lake, propelled by an electric motor.  20 minutes with the wind to get to the hot spot, hour and a half to get back with the wind in our face.  Lets just say it's the one and only place where I felt that I should kiss the shore when we got to the launch

Beyond all this, the bows grow big.  Really Big.  Acrobatic and silver, they make the drive very well worth it.

But good gawd is it a crazy landscape.  I keep waiting for a herd of buffalo to roll on by and take a drink, but it hasn't happened yet.

A Stolen Afternoon...

OMR stopped by the office, pontoon in the back of the truck on his way out to a local stillwater to say hello.

Immediately, I was itchy...

Back into the office and 2 back to back appointment cancellations with potential clients and the prospects of cold calling my way back into productivity looked about as yummy as a poo sandwich.

Time to scratch the itch, vigorously.

Its been an intense couple of months at work and I desperately needed to play hooky like a 4th grader staring at playground equipment on hot spring day. 

Racing home, I switched out of work clothes, into fishing clothes, collected my gear, loaded the pontoon, grabbed a beer and flew out of my house to the lake in under 10 minutes.  Fishing time was on the line

Arriving at the lake I knew right where OMR would be and there he was.  Posted up away from the other boats in his "spot" where the chronomids are attacked by hungry trout, his rod bucked time after time.  Anyone who knows lake fishing knows it takes a painful long amount of time to get your gear together.

It makes me feel like a Chinese Fire Drill...

Finally, I met up with OMR and started a bit of bobber staring.

Some hate lake fishing, I tend to find it extremely therapeutic. 

Want to forget your issues for a while....then stare at the bobber.

Thankfully the fish were willing participants.  Most fish were taken when the wind gave the water a bit of chop or when things died down, on the micro retrieve that gives the bugs just the right action.

The best part of the day was stealing some time away from what the day was supposed to be and indulging in something that it wasnt, normally, supposed to be.  OMR and I traded turns in landing fish and alternately cheering and jeering each others efforts. 

It was pure mental gold.  The perfect reset button.

So what's the moral of the story. 

Even as an adult, it's ok to play a little hooky.....

Up the Chopaka Grade....

Tomorrow, pray for my tires.  Pray for them.

The Itch is Back

The long sticks are in brief storage and I've made my peace with the 2010-2011 Steelhead season. 

Now comes time to unearth the pontoon boat, find out where in god's name I put my 4 and 5 weight rods and reels and get ready for a little less mentally taxing part of the year. 5x sucks but at least when you're staring at a bobber on a lake, you can slam down a brewskie and watch spring kick winter's ass out of here.

Good times are ahead.

The itch is back.