rtraverdavis
Well-known member
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2016
- Messages
- 4,106
This past school year was a depressing grind, but it ended last Wednesday. My wife has been well aware how hard it’s been on me, and told me I should go do whatever I wanted for Father’s Day weekend. So a buddy and I decided to get off the beaten path, away from the crowds, and check out some small hill country streams with some unique indigenous fish.
Unlike all the easy-to-access spots near photogenic landmarks, we found the place deserted. Had camp all to ourselves.
The streams were beautiful, but running low for this time of year. The drought was apparent.
The trout that evolved in these streams have specifically adapted to withstand and thrive in water temperatures that would kill most trout. When I checked the water, my stream thermometer read 70 degrees at 3:00 in the afternoon. Still, the fish were rising and overeager to take a #16 Purple Haze.
I really wanted to get a picture of one of these little trout, but didn’t want to unnecessarily stress one. They’re a listed at-risk species, and fishing is catch and release only. When I tried to get a photo of one I caught, while keeping it in the water it slipped the fly, darted down, and just hung out at my feet. I posted this in the Sunday Pic of the Day thread, but I thought it was cool that it just finned there and let me snap some pictures. As soon as I moved my foot it shot off.
This was a spot I just picked off the map. There was nothing remarkable nearby, no cool towns or views or waterfalls or InstaGramable anything, just hills and ponderosas—and we were the only ones there. Another friend of mine was fishing a popular, well-known stream at the same time that I was fishing here. When we’d got back home from our separate trips he told me he’d actually left early, that he’d never seen the place so crowded in the 30 years he’d fished there.
There was a long period of time I’d gladly fight the crowds at the chance for a big fish. Now, I’ll take dinky trout, neat country, and solitude over giant hawgs and crowds all day every day.
Unlike all the easy-to-access spots near photogenic landmarks, we found the place deserted. Had camp all to ourselves.
The streams were beautiful, but running low for this time of year. The drought was apparent.
The trout that evolved in these streams have specifically adapted to withstand and thrive in water temperatures that would kill most trout. When I checked the water, my stream thermometer read 70 degrees at 3:00 in the afternoon. Still, the fish were rising and overeager to take a #16 Purple Haze.
I really wanted to get a picture of one of these little trout, but didn’t want to unnecessarily stress one. They’re a listed at-risk species, and fishing is catch and release only. When I tried to get a photo of one I caught, while keeping it in the water it slipped the fly, darted down, and just hung out at my feet. I posted this in the Sunday Pic of the Day thread, but I thought it was cool that it just finned there and let me snap some pictures. As soon as I moved my foot it shot off.
This was a spot I just picked off the map. There was nothing remarkable nearby, no cool towns or views or waterfalls or InstaGramable anything, just hills and ponderosas—and we were the only ones there. Another friend of mine was fishing a popular, well-known stream at the same time that I was fishing here. When we’d got back home from our separate trips he told me he’d actually left early, that he’d never seen the place so crowded in the 30 years he’d fished there.
There was a long period of time I’d gladly fight the crowds at the chance for a big fish. Now, I’ll take dinky trout, neat country, and solitude over giant hawgs and crowds all day every day.
