Big One Got Away Again

This time the big guy took my most productive Panther Martin lure and the swivel that attached it to my line -- broke it off.  If it was the same 16 to 18 inch fish I had on the day before, he was almost in the same  identical spot below the bluff -- which I approaced from the other side after working my way down a slippery shute in the cliffs (this time I had a freshly caught Rainbow on my stringer with me too).  I caught the Rainbow off the sandy shoreline in the center of the picture at the left and had really hoped to have two before hitting the rocks -- hoped the wind would die down too.

After fishing the sandy shoreline for about a half hour, I grabbed my usual half bag of gathered trash and the stinger and headed back up the nearside of the bluff or cliff -- planning to climb back down where I had exited the day before.  When I got to the road where I had parked my Jeep in a little pull-out, my neighbors Betsy and Gene pulled up and asked about a good spot and I directed them to the picnic area where the climbing wouldn't be as difficult (they are in their 80s) -- they noted that I seemed winded from the climb.  Of course, they saw my Rainbow and were eager to get some of their own and off they went and so did I -- leaving the bag of trash near the Jeep.

The steepest part of the bluff or cliff is the shadowed section just a little left and up from the dark rock at the shoreline in the center of the picture above.  That is where the footing is most difficult with all the loose rocks and boulders -- scarey too when you're passing under what could be ready to fall at any time.  I knew the big, submerged, flat-top boulder just around the point is where I had lost that big fish yesterday and that is where I hoped he might still be as I worked my way down the rocks and tried to keep from causing any of them to slide into the water.  I came down well right of the big rectangular boulder and after getting the one trout back in the water on the stringer, I started casting in both directions slightly off the submerged boulders and cautiously eyed the one that was my main target.

The wind was a little bit more of a nuisance in this shallow cove of the rocks and casting to the right was more of a problem so, I moved closer to the spot I thought the fish might be and carefully eyed spots for good footing as I moved along.  After a couple casts just off the boulder, the fish hit the lure hard and had my little rod bowed completely in half like a semi-circle and as I struggled for good footing to get the fish worked up to the surface (so I could at least see him), he pulled and jerked harder and then broke the line -- taking the lure with him.

I sat dejectedly for awhile on a stable boulder and soaked up some warm sun as I got my breath back and looked for another lure.  Unfortunately, that was the last of that particular style of Panther Martin in my little lure/fly box and all I could find was another Panther Martin with chrome spinner, green body with some yellow-green tail hairs.  I tried another dozen or more casts but, had no strikes so, I decided to hike back up and maybe go to the picnic area to see how Betsy and Gene were doing.  As I arrived back at the edge of the pull-out, they pulled up in their white pickup and said they were heading back for some fresh bait -- then, they were going back to Big Meadow as Betsy didn't much like using lures (not used to it either).

Just around the corner

I decided to go ahead to the picnic area anyway and intended to try a few other lures to see if I could find a substitute for that lost Panther Martin.  After trying three or four different things and getting no strikes, I had an idea about that other Panther Martin lure and got out my finger-nail clippers -- cut off all those hairs as best I could and a little red puff on the treble hook.   After a few casts, I had another nice Rainbow trout hooked and tried working him along the shoreline but, as I got him close to the stringer with the other fish, he rollled and spit out the lure.  Stupid me!  I should have walked the shoreline toward him and just pulled him the shorter distance onto the beach.

Wolf Creek Pass in the distance

Since it was nearly 2:00 in the afternoon and the trout already dead (me too), I decided to head back to the RV and clean the fish.  I did stop for a short try at catching some Brook Trout at a spot on Beaver Creek about a mile from the dam but, no luck there either -- hot dogs and a beer sounded good enough for me.

I stopped at Rainbow Grocery and picked up two more of that special style Panther Martin lure and am ready for another day.