09-23-2013, 12:08 AM
[font "Comic Sans MS"][size 4]Yesterday, I had a rare opportunity to fish Strawberry Reservoir from a boat and jumped at the invitation. My Mom and her husband got a ski boat over the summer and this would be its first fishing trip.
Kevin (Mom's hubby), Al (their friend), my Uncle Jesse, and I got on the water a little after 9:00 and the conditions were sunny and mild.
Being the only hopelessly obsessed fisherman of the bunch, my advice was sought for a place to drop anchor. Eventually, the third option I offered was taken and we zipped across the lake to a place none of us had been to.
The northern channel of the narrows looked great, so we found some steep rocky walls to park next to for the first hour and change. A couple of us got bites, but no fish were brought to hand until a cutthroat finally committed to me.
We eventually moved to a promising corner and anchored there, allowing the breeze to keep us in a good zone. The fish came by in schools and Kevin and I got some rainbows.
After another move, the wind really picked up and it was hard to stay anchored. One last fish came in and it was time to head back around 1:30.
Barely in the slot on that one.
Getting back to the marina was pretty choppy. Even inside the breaker docks, the boat got tossed around quite a bit. Landing it on the trailer took some skill on Kevin's part.
It was great to get out and see unfamiliar parts of the Berry and especially nice to finally fish with Kevin. We've talked about it for years. Also, the last time I fished with my Uncle Jesse, I was probably 6 years old.
They dropped me off where I'd parked to meet them up there and I was intent on finding somewhere for my new tube's inaugural float. After driving around to different parts of the lake, I decided that the wind was going to keep me off the water this time around.
Bummer, but next week will have to do.
The wind had turned me away from the Berry and my thoughts drifted toward faster fishing. After some indecision, a fleeting thought captured my attention and my next destination was set.
A little while later, I was hopping up a beautiful canyon, from boulder to boulder. The clear cold stream was full of actively feeding browns in the 6-10 inch range.
This pocket water was an absolute treat to fish, just as it had been, my last time around. A feast for the eyes, the stream was beautiful and the fish were starting to color up for the spawn.
Almost every hole produced quick strikes and most were missed. The tiny inhabitants were all over my plastics. Working a Gulp through the deeper holes was very effective.
A couple of those pools had some better fish in them. Several bigger-than-average fish wiggled off the hook after a few leaps. Finally, a really good one stayed on long enough to snap a blurry photo before it escaped.
That was a great catch for such a place and I'm sure I've got more hours to log up there in search of others, plus the other species that can be found higher up.
Though most of the fish were quite small, the experience was thoroughly enjoyed. It's great to spend time on small water, ambushing fishy holes under the shade of a healthy forest.
Happy Fishing, Humans.
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Kevin (Mom's hubby), Al (their friend), my Uncle Jesse, and I got on the water a little after 9:00 and the conditions were sunny and mild.
Being the only hopelessly obsessed fisherman of the bunch, my advice was sought for a place to drop anchor. Eventually, the third option I offered was taken and we zipped across the lake to a place none of us had been to.
The northern channel of the narrows looked great, so we found some steep rocky walls to park next to for the first hour and change. A couple of us got bites, but no fish were brought to hand until a cutthroat finally committed to me.
We eventually moved to a promising corner and anchored there, allowing the breeze to keep us in a good zone. The fish came by in schools and Kevin and I got some rainbows.
After another move, the wind really picked up and it was hard to stay anchored. One last fish came in and it was time to head back around 1:30.
Barely in the slot on that one.
Getting back to the marina was pretty choppy. Even inside the breaker docks, the boat got tossed around quite a bit. Landing it on the trailer took some skill on Kevin's part.
It was great to get out and see unfamiliar parts of the Berry and especially nice to finally fish with Kevin. We've talked about it for years. Also, the last time I fished with my Uncle Jesse, I was probably 6 years old.
They dropped me off where I'd parked to meet them up there and I was intent on finding somewhere for my new tube's inaugural float. After driving around to different parts of the lake, I decided that the wind was going to keep me off the water this time around.
Bummer, but next week will have to do.
The wind had turned me away from the Berry and my thoughts drifted toward faster fishing. After some indecision, a fleeting thought captured my attention and my next destination was set.
A little while later, I was hopping up a beautiful canyon, from boulder to boulder. The clear cold stream was full of actively feeding browns in the 6-10 inch range.
This pocket water was an absolute treat to fish, just as it had been, my last time around. A feast for the eyes, the stream was beautiful and the fish were starting to color up for the spawn.
Almost every hole produced quick strikes and most were missed. The tiny inhabitants were all over my plastics. Working a Gulp through the deeper holes was very effective.
A couple of those pools had some better fish in them. Several bigger-than-average fish wiggled off the hook after a few leaps. Finally, a really good one stayed on long enough to snap a blurry photo before it escaped.
That was a great catch for such a place and I'm sure I've got more hours to log up there in search of others, plus the other species that can be found higher up.
Though most of the fish were quite small, the experience was thoroughly enjoyed. It's great to spend time on small water, ambushing fishy holes under the shade of a healthy forest.
Happy Fishing, Humans.
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