I have never had much luck fishing for trout in high summer. Being on the water before sun-up is really the way to go right now, but I usually save the “up before the crack of dawn” mornings for duck season. The water is crystal clear and low during July and August, making even the “planted” trout spooky. It doesn’t help matters that I don’t pay full attention to the stream, either. My head is on a swivel most times trying not to miss a single detail along the bank or in the woods.
The creek closest to me that holds trout is water you can jump across in most places – with the exception of a couple areas where beaver have made small impoundments for themselves. The kind of trickle where you need to be adept at pitching a 1/16 oz. jig or small inline spinner into a hole 20 or 25 feet upstream. This is one reason why I haven’t invested in a flyrod yet. It doesn’t seem anywhere close to the trout rivers I read about out west or even out east. But there are naturally reproducing fish showing up in most of our trout streams now, so really, I feel good about where I’m at.
But today, I must have done something right. As stealthily as I could manage, I crept through the shadows below small beaver-made pools, casting a Panther Martin past likely looking spots. In a trance I watched the silver blade flash beneath the sun dappled surface, shadows dart at the offering. This scene was repeated several times as rainbow after rainbow came to hand. That is a rarity for this man of the earth during the summer moons. Maybe it’s getting figured out. And here are a few more photos taken along the creek -
Until the next time, take care -