East Fork Carson River

Needed to practice my fly casting and what better place, than where I caught my first two trout on a fly rod. Got there at 0800 and climbed down to the water. Put on one of the Wooly Worms I tied and started casting. It went somewhere. Not sure if it was forward or backward, but all I had was line. Replaced it with a black Wooly Bugger. Proceeded to get it caught on a weed, 4 feet from shore. Did I mention, I didn't put on waders or wading boots? So I strolled out in my sneakers and unhooked the fly. No sense loosing a good $2.00 fly when it was right there. Damn, that water was cold.

Replaced it with a Tungston Beadhead Thinmint. Replaced that with a Wiggle tail. Couldn't find anything that looked like a fish. About that time I realized I was starving. I had breakfast at 0430 when I got up with the wife so she could be to work at 0600. One of the hazards of being a wheel. I know this well, I was a wheel for 40 years.

Drove to the Carson River Resort. I talked about Todd and the resort last Fall. Asked him what was catching fish. He said opening day was wild. One hundred and twenty two people camped at his place. Everybody catching fish. Everybody soaking Power Bait, Nightcrawlers, and Salmon Eggs. No body catching anything on flys. Great.

I grabbed a bag of Fritos and a diet Pepsi and headed back out. WHAT? Fattening Fritos and Diet Pepsi? It's one of those rules. One rules out the other. You know, it's like eating chocolate and drinking milk. Brown and white cancel each other out. Again, if no one sees you eat it, it doesn't count. Besides, Todd doesn't have a lot to eat in his store.

Back to the river and rig up with orange Power Worm. I put my shame aside. By the time I finally climbed down to the river again, the wind had picked up to such a velocity that casting was almost impossible. I spent more time untangling my line than it spent in the water. I finally gave up. The wind was blowing around 20-25 mph. While I was there, I dropped my handy-dandy thermometer on a retractor in the river. 40 degrees. Like the Middle Fork of the Consumnes, nothing was going to bite on a fly. Too cold. Called it a day.

On the way home, I checked out the upcountry lakes. Red Lake, I won't be fishing that lake until June. Caples Lake, June again. Silver Lake, one more time, June. They are still, completely iced over, although I didn't see anybody walking out on the ice. mmmmmm. Bear River Reservoir, another story. Lake is open, gate is still closed, and a foot of snow on the road. I'm willing to haul my gear the distance (about 1/2 mile) to fish. I didn't today, because I already had my cardio walk and it was past time to head home.

Still a lot of Spring, Summer, and Fall to go. Pictures of the lakes on the March 22nd post haven't changed, in case you want to take a peek. Now I have to flip a coin and see where I'm going next. American River for Shad or Bear River Reservoir for trout? Decisions, decisions.

Till then.

Mark (Shoreman)