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Fishing:

 

You can, of course, use a spinning rod, but fly-fishing is more fun, and potentially a lot more productive, depending on the skill of the angler.  If you do choose a spinning rod,   a small lure fished slowly will usually bring strikes.  Bait is not a good idea unless you just plan to catch a couple of trout for dinner, as it will kill most of the fish you catch, and so eliminate the choice of releasing fish unharmed.  You can actually fish a fly on a spinning rod. The trick is to add enough weight to cast, but not so much that your fly gets hung up on the bottom. The way to accomplish that is to add a plastic bubble, then just enough line to allow the fly to sink to just the right depth, usually not very far. 

 

Most of the time, you really only need a few basic flies, some for when the fish are looking toward the surface, some for when they are at intermediate depths, and some to sink quickly when they are on the bottom. 



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Most of the time, a small fly fished from a few inches to a few feet under the surface will bring enthusiastic strikes.  Flies need to be fished slowly in most cases, just allowed to sink and occasionally twitched.  Since you can’t see a fly under the water, the trick is to watch the end of the line.  Any unusual movement or twitch will often indicate a take. 

Trout often begin to rise in the evening.  When you see fish rising, watch to see if the rises leave any bubbles.  If they do not, it is likely that they are feeding not on the surface, but just under it

 

 

None of the trout found in the alpine lakes are actually natives, their distant, and perhaps not so distant, ancestors having been brought to the area on the backs of pack animals, or dropped from aircraft.  Some of the lakes are still planted periodically, and some have self sustaining populations. 

 

The Eastern Brook, described elsewhere as a “brookie”, is found in many of the lakes in the Sierras.  Technically, the brook trout is not a trout at all, but is of the genus salvelinus, which groups it with the char family.  The fact that it looks like a trout, tastes like a trout, and acts like a trout still makes it a trout in the minds of most anglers, however. 

 

The name “Eastern Brook” implies that it must have evolved somewhere in the east, perhaps in the exotic lands of ancient Persia or in China during the Ming Dynasty.  That is an erroneous assumption, however, as it actually evolved in the brooks in the eastern United States, hence its name. 

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You would think that a fish native to brooks that babble through the mountains of New England would be misplaced in the lakes of the Sierra, but it has actually adapted quite well.  It has one advantage over the rainbow in that it doesn’t require a feeder stream in which to spawn.  If you come across a lake that has no inlet stream, not even a seasonal one, any rainbow you catch there has to have come from somewhere else.  If you catch a brookie, however, it could well be a part of a self sustaining population. Brooks will breed in the lake, and will, in fact, over breed, resulting in a population of underfed and small fish.  Such lakes do better if there is angling pressure and if the anglers like to eat some of their catch.  There has even been a movement to raise the limit on brookies, which wouldn’t be a bad idea if the anglers could be taught to make a positive identification.  I’ve heard more than one person describe a caught brook trout as a “brown”, even though the coloration of the two species is quite different.  

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Rainbow trout can maintain a self sustaining population if the lake they’re in has at least a seasonal inlet stream they can use to spawn in.  Some of the lakes do have such streams, and will have runs of spawning trout in the spring of the year.

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I have yet to catch a brown trout in any of the lakes of the High sierra.  Why that is, I have no idea.  There are plenty of browns in the streams in the area after all, including in Dinkey Creek, which drains out of the Dinkey Lakes Wilderness.  The brown is not a native to California, but grew up in Europe just as its name German Brown indicates

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There are a few cutthroat trout in the Sierra, but not many and none in the lakes described on this site.  The Piute Cutthroat is an endangered species, so, in the unlikely event you ever catch one, it should be released unharmed. 

Trout food

The lakes of the High sierra seem ideal for trout, being full of clear, cold water and absent trout predators, at least in the water.  Many of the lakes have dependable spawning streams, and the ones that don’t still can sustain brook trout.  The limiting factor for numbers and size of trout is food. 

One important source of trout food is bugs from the central valley.  That sounds absurd, of course, until you understand the trout food conveyor belt known as “up-slope-blow-in”

 

We all learned in elementary school science class that hot air rises.  Since the Central Valley has more hot air in the summer than Washington with Congress in session, a lot of hot air rises up the canyons and into the air above the Sierra Nevada, where it cools.  In the process of rising, it picks up whatever splats on your windshield and carries it up, up, and away, high above the meadows and woods of the Sierra Nevada. 

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The converse of hot air rising is that cool air descends.  When that air gets over a cool spot, say, for example,  a high Sierra lake, the cooler area forms a downdraft and brings that same air that originated in the valley, where there is a plethora of  bugs of all kinds, down and into the lake.

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To the trout, this movement of air is manna from heaven.  For the fly angler, it has some serious implications also.  

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For one thing, that downdraft results in a breeze blowing toward shore much of the time.  If you try to go to the other side of the lake, for example, so you can cast with the wind instead of against it, you may think that the wind has shifted while you were circling.  The wind has not shifted, however, but is still blowing down to the middle of the lake, then out toward the shore. 

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Sometimes, of course, the wind really is blowing from one side of the lake to the other.  When this happens, the insects that have been deposited in the water will drift toward the lee side of the lake, along with foam, bits of twigs, weeds, and other flotsam.  Trout will often follow their food source to that side of the lake. So should the angler.

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The trout are not particularly picky about what they eat when they are looking for the insects brought by the wind, as they come in a wide variety of sizes, colors and shapes.  What they have in common is that, being terrestrial and not aquatic, they don’t swim too well.  Even if they could swim, these are bugs that were happy in the 100 degree heat of the central valley, and are now in water that is maybe 30 or 40 degrees cooler than that.  Since they are cold blooded, they don’t move around very much when cold, so they tend to drown rather quickly, then slowly sink to the bottom of the lake.  

Trout could wait until the bugs get to the bottom, then pick them up there, but other trout would no doubt get them first.  The result is that the trout are looking for food that doesn’t move around a lot, but that slowly sinks through the water column, and are interested in getting at it before the competition eats it first.  Trout aren’t big on food etiquette, after all.  The observant angler, therefore, chooses a fly that looks vaguely like a bug of some kind, casts it out on the water, and lets it slowly sink, perhaps twitching it periodically.  Often, that strategy will bring a strike before the fly has had a chance to sink more than a foot or two.  Strikes can be enthusiastic and quick, not because the fish are afraid that their lunch will escape, but that someone else will get there first. 

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In addition to this up slope blow in, most of the lakes of the high Sierra have an established ecosystem, starting with blue green algae and going up through predatory insects and culminating in the top predator, the trout.  Sometimes, there may be smaller fish in the lakes as well.  As a result, the trout may not be looking up, but may in fact be feeding near the bottom or along the shoreline, where their prey hangs out.  One clue as to when that is the case is if the slowly sinking fly described above doesn’t bring strikes unless it is allowed to sink for a long time.  If that happens, then the obvious strategy is to use a beadhead that will sink to the level where the trout are feeding more quickly.  The downside to that strategy is the need to fish slowly.  A heavy fly will wind up on the bottom quickly if it is not retrieved, and is likely to catch the bottom before it catches a fish.  Determining the correct rate of descent can be the ticket to success.

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If the fish are touring the shoreline in search of food found there, you will see them.  When the trout are in shallow water, it takes a stealthy approach and a delicate cast to avoid spooking them.  When you see a fish in clear, shallow water, the best strategy is to cast close enough to it so that the fish can see the fly, but not so close that it turns and flees.  So how do you know how close is close enough?  Simple.  If the trout doesn’t see your fly, you’re casting too far from it.  If it turns and swims quickly away, then you’ve cast too close. 

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Sometimes, the answers are obvious.

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The best strategy is to cast a fair distance from the trout, then, if it doesn’t see it, cast a little closer. Casting too far away will give you another chance, but casting too close is the end of stalking that particular trout. 

Of course, one of the main principles of fly angling is that nothing works all of the time.  Sometimes, there are bugs that don’t sink, but that remain in the surface film, just out of sight of land dwelling animals like human beings.  If you suspect that is the case, then the strategy is to find a fly that floats low in the water, cast it out, and twitch it ever so slightly now and again.  A foam beetle or ant can be a good choice.

 

Now, if that doesn’t work there are other things to try.  Sometimes, the insects being sought by the trout are small and barely dimple the surface, creating a kind of silvery polka dot pattern from the point of view of the trout.  If you suspect that is the case, then a high floating fly like a Griffith’s Gnat can be the ticket to success.

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A lot of the formula for catching trout in the high lakes is discovering the proper depth at which to fish, finding the proper structure, and detecting strikes, but matching the hatch can sometimes be a factor.  There are times, for example, when the trout get to chasing blue damselflies and ignore anything else. They will sometimes leap clear out of the water after these brightly colored morsels, yet don’t seem interested in anything that isn’t long and blue.  Other times, there will be a hatch of mayflies or caddis that lures the trout into a feeding frenzy that only includes those insects.  Usually, the observant angler will know right away when the fish are keyed into a particular food source, and will either be able to match it or not.

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As for those blue damselflies and other aquatic insects, remember that they all have a nymphal stage in which they either crawl or swim in the lake itself.  Those blue damsels, for example, start out life as a kind of long thin olive green insect that swims around, usually near the bottom or near the shoreline.  Therefore, a smallish olive green wooly bugger or similar fly cast near the shore will often bring strikes, particularly when fished near the reeds and sedges.

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Trout often get to rising during the late evening and morning hours.  Sometimes, particularly early and late in the season, they may be seen rising all day long.

When the trout are rising, it is tempting to conclude that they are feeding on something that is on the surface.  That is not always the case.  Some of the “rises” you see may be trout feeding on something just under the surface.  If there are rises, but no bubbles in those rises, the trout may not be looking at the surface at all.  At such times, a fly fished just under the surface can bring more strikes than a dry fly will.  Experimentation is the key.  If what you’re doing doesn’t work, try something else.  That strategy works for most things in life, including fly angling.

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Alpine lakes have structure, just like the larger lakes found farther down the mountains.  Trout will congregate in particular parts of the lake, searching for food sources and protection from predators.  Sudden drop offs are good places to cast a fly or lure, as trout will feed in the shallow edges, but like to have deep water to flee into should the occasion arise.  Weed beds are another hiding place for fish, as well as a feeding place for aquatic insects.  Boulders that either rise near the surface or create small islands form yet another place for trout to feed and hide.

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Remember, it’s called “fishing,” and not “catching.” Even the experienced angler gets skunked sometimes. Trout can be difficult to figure out, and, when you think you have them figured out, they prove you wrong. Sometimes, you will be able to cast to rising fish that will come up, look your fly over, and then swim away. That’s  the time to kick back and enjoy the scenery. It’s not all about fish. 

Using the ant (left) as a dropper under the beetle (right) has proven a very effective way of taking trout near  the surface. Most of the fish take the dropper. A small indicator attached just above the beetle helps spot the fly on the water. The ant sinks slowly. 

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