CHT - NorCal - Part Two

Continued from July, 2004

Part Two

Our next target was the Goose Lake redband – but not before a swim in the McCloud, and a jump from Lower Falls.  A few more hours of driving put us at our next destination – another small stream, this one draining into Goose Lake in the far reaches of north-east California. 

We set up camp and hit the creek.  Hiking into a little canyon choked with willows and brush put us on the stream.  Plunging pools and small waterfalls under branches and over boulders were filled with small trout.  Hooking them was easy, landing them was another matter altogether.  These little guys did not like the sting of steel on their lips, and although they readily hit our flies, we couldn’t get any to hand.  We bushwacked our way upstream – hoping to find a spot that was less overgrown.  A small meadow section opened up, looked great – but held no fish…

We headed back to the campsite, knowing the fish were there, but a bit dejected that we couldn’t get any out of that part of the stream.  We fished the creek a few more minutes before it was dark, and I got a few small fish…about four inches or so…

The next morning we were up and at it again…We fished the meadow section above our campsite and below the steeper area we had fished the night before.  Again, stealth was the key.  Soon we were into the rhythm of gentle steps, low profiles, and light casts.  And again our stealth paid off.

These fish were again small and beautiful.  Simon got the “big” one – which was about eight inches…and earned him the nickname “Bigfish”.

Back to camp for breakfast and packing up, and heading for our next destination.  There are only a few creeks in California that hold the Warner Lakes redband trout, and we knew getting to these fish was going to be tough.  Another drive put us at our destination, which was, to say the least, one of the most beautiful spots I’ve been to.  We could look out across the little valley into Oregon.  The valley was filled with wildflowers, and rimmed with aspen.  A few patches of snow struggled against the warm sun on the rocky slopes above us. Through the middle of the valley ran a tiny trickle, that gained a bit of momentum as it made its way north. 

Stalking trout took on a new meaning here.  If you could see the water, the fish could see you, and they would disappear into brush-choked holes or under-cut banks.  The kids were getting restless.  It was one-at-a-time fishing – each of us taking a shot at a likely looking spot.  We guided each other with whispers of where to put the fly and when to set the hook…”Up a little…there…out a little further…ok – drop the rod tip…Perfect…There he is!” and a tiny fish would grab the fly and head back to his lie, zipping around the pool when he felt the resistance of the rod and line.

Wow!  Three streams and three native trout.  I had completed my Challenge!  Simon had one more fish to go, and Ken and Johan had a good start.  We were all excited and happy with our success.  And we still had a day to go!