Dream Girl Lands Dream Fish!

The 2013 fishing year has gotten off to a great start! Last year did not allow for much time on the water with my new business getting off the ground, and the times I did get in a little hydro-therapy, the trophy trout were not as cooperative as one would hope. This year, I am committed to keep my priorities in line and spend more time in pursuit of the world class fishing opportunities just a few hours from home.

Back in February, I snuck out with a buddy to drift the Clackamas River for winter steelhead. After about 30 minutes of casting that hand tied jig, it got tugged and I was off to the races with a hot, native steelie! He delivered an epic fight, which ended with all 13 (or so) pounds him in the net. My biggest steelhead to date.

Finally, my lovely better half, Lynn, was free of her studies for spring break. How lucky am I that she was excited for a chance to go trophy trout hunting at Crescent Lake for a couple days?! Some of my favorite trips have been Crescent Lake in March. She can be a brutally tough lake, leaving the most accomplished angler scratching their head, but she has a way of tossing out fish of dreams for those who put in the time and stick to what they know.

Our goal was not to grind it out hardcore trophy trout hunter style, but to make sure we got some much needed R & R, while getting a chance at a good fish or two. We got to fishing at 1:00 Monday afternoon. The sun was shining and there was not even the slightest breeze, which left the water looking like a golden sheet of glass. These are the conditions that make the typical trophy brown trout angler cringe. These are the conditions that tell me to put back an extra hundred feet of line and keep fishing for browns! I told Lynn that I really wanted her to take the first fish hooked, being as I have already tangled with some great fish in the previous weeks while she was enslaved to her studies. She reluctantly agreed. There were a couple other boats on the lake and they were downrigging the depths for lakers, so we owned the shoreline. We trolled almost to the scout camp, flirting with water depths from 20 to 50 ft. No fish were marked at all, and no biters, so I was running on pure gut. We had one lure on leadcore, down close to 20 ft and the other on about a 400 ft flatline. I decided to turn around and rework the run back to the resort, rather than go for a full lap around the lake. This was a good decision…

I zigged and zagged the boat around the buoys in front of the summer homes, and we both ripped our rods with vigor, knowing that the lures were swimming through a total money zone. And then… BOOM! The rip of my rod was met with a massive force! It pulled violently again and within seconds I had the rod seated in Lynn’s hands to take over the battle. “It’s a good one”, I declared with a wink and a smile. She kept steady pressure and reeled on the heavy fish as it slowly came towards the boat, staying deep. Finally it was directly below us. We both peered anxiously into the clear, emerald water, waiting to see a dark shadow emerge. At last we got a good glimpse. All I knew is that what I saw was long and wide, with a large, pointed head that meant one thing… BIG HOOKJAW! The fish hadn’t made any runs or really expended much energy at all for a fish his size, so I reached in and backed the drag off a little bit in anticipation of a short leash explosion. That never happened. The ol’ boy cooperated his way right into the basket of our net and we stared in amazement at what we had just landed. The sun brought his brilliant colors aglow with golden yellows and reddish hues. This fish had it all going on and I had no doubt he would bury the heralded 10 pound mark. I carefully removed the well-seated hooks of the black and silver Bomber Long A that had fooled him, and slid him into the live well. He measured just under 29 inches long with an impressive girth of 16 ¾ inches. The weight of the fish hung in the net was right at 16 ½ pounds, which put him at around 11 pounds after the math.

We took a short break and let the dogs run around for a bit and got back to fishing. The evening produced three more browns, all under 20 inches, but we were so thrilled with our earlier catch it didn’t matter. We decided to quit at 7:00 so we could celebrate a bit with some great food and drinks at Crescent Lake Resort. We retired to the cabin with big smiles on our faces and set an alarm for early the next morning.

After turning off the morning alarm, I peeked outside and saw a steady rain falling. I crawled back into bed and asked Lynn if she really wanted to do this or if we should get a little more rest. We slept, lol! It was a good call. An hour later the rain had stopped and it felt a lot more comfortable outside. We hit the lake well rested and full of anticipation of what may come.

The hours passed… and then passed some more. Finally I landed a small brown, but that would be the only catch of the day. We pulled the boat out at 7:00, knowing that the drive home would be long. Thanks to Gil and the rest of the nice folks at Crescent Lake Resort for making our stay so enjoyable!

This year is well on its way to being one for the books… IF, this pace can be maintained…