I found myself debating on whether or not to make the thirty minute drive up Hyalite Canyon in pursuit of whatever it was I could find, I wasn't even certain. I had to tell myself to go or I would end up sitting inside, tying flies until my back screamed for mercy. The weather was hanging between rainy and windy, and really rainy and cold. I knew the fishing would be great If I could find the fish though. I'm fairly familiar with my local waters, where to go at what time of year, and of course, what to use and when. Most of my local fish habitat is blown out this time of year and I was just itching for some mediocre fishing. I had in mind a place I've heard of many times. Locals talk about it but it seemed harder to get there at the right time than even trying to bother waiting for the right conditions. Winding up the narrow mountain road, past what seems like endless pocket water full of brookies, I was heading for a reservoir. It was difficult not to stop before getting to my destination. Bigger fish are ahead I told myself as I passed one of my favorite runs this time of year, bigger fish are ahead. Like I said, I wasn't sure what I was looking for, I just know I wanted to fish the reservoir with either chironomids or streamers from the bank.
To my surprise, when I reached the top of Hyalite Canyon Road, the reservoir was full of white caps. The wind was harsh and cold as if it were blowing straight off the mountains themselves. It was seventy degrees at my home before I left, but here I was barely prepared to stand the elements, let alone fish into the awful wind. My spirit was a bit bruised. I felt the urge to explore a little, but knew I would probably turn around and go home. I figured the drive up the canyon was as good as sitting at home. Before I turned back, I noticed the road to the upper section was now open. The stories of what lie ahead popped up in my head. The destination I wanted to check out was only a mile or so down this old dirt road which is closed many days of the year. The road follows the steep banks of Hyalite Reservoir for only a couple of miles. I was looking for where upper Hyalite Creek flowed into the reservoir. The small, whitewater stream feeds fast flowing water right into the high elevation reservoir. Most of the year this location is flooded, taking away the structure of channels that attract the fish before they head up the stream to reproduce. There's actually a sign posted that says "fishing above this sign is off limits until July", after the cutthroat spawn. When people talked about being here at the right time, they mean the cutty spawn, when the reservoir
There are a few reasons the outlet of the upper creek is such a hot spot for fish. Cutthroat rainbows and grayling stack up here for a few reasons. The rainbows follow the cuttys during spawning and feast upon the eggs that drift freely downstream. The other reason may seem obvious as well; colder water and current flow. This outlet of water is the greatest structure in the whole reservoir. I could walk miles of the shoreline, throwing wooly buggers along the banks, hoping to hook a lone cruiser or two. But here was something special. At the outlet, I desired a place that 1.) hadn't been fished hard since ice-over, 2.) has a steady number of fish moving in and out all day 3.) brings in the native cutthroat on their way to spawn. Of course, these were factors I had in my head, and the reasons I wanted to find this so called honey hole. I was unsure of what the conditions might be.
I pulled up to a two car pull-off on the south end of the lake. Right away I could tell the lake level had not yet risen to undesired levels. I actually looked out through the rain and saw a rather dull sight. Heavy waves and gusts of wind were pounding the muddy banks. I couldnt see my destination, it was just around the corner behind a boggy, muddy, stinky swamp-like flat. I had to navigate through what reminded me of a mangrove swamp. Small channels of nasty, bacteria filled water blocked my path. I would have to climb over a hundred dead bushes in order to keep my feet dry. So I backed out and headed back down the dirt road. Either my curiosity or my urge to fish got to me. I turned around and parked back into the small space, turning off the ignition as a statement saying "I'm here to stay now". I thought I would get a little dirty, but I wanted to see if these channels were fishable, I had nothing to lose. I zipped up my rain jacket and made my way through the maze that was the bog. Next time I will be bringing my waders I thought, as I jumped another small, stagnate piece of orange colored water. It was too easy to imagine a bull moose or grizzly bear rummaging around back there. I wasnt surprised to see bear tracks when I saw them.
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| a new personal best cutthroat from Hyalite Reservoir, caught on a #20 caddis pupae |
....To be continued
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