Hiking and Angling in McCall September 2021
"I want to do some billygoating!" Katie said, when we were planning a camping and fishing trip around her birthday.
"Oh, really?" I asked. "I guess we better go up to McCall and hike into some lakes."
"Ok!"
It's always easy to return to lakes you've been to before; you know what to expect on the hike and even how good the fishing is going to be. But what's the fun in that?
After talking to Eric Moncada and researching Idaho Fish and Game's stocking reports, I had a couple of lakes picked out. The hikes would be moderate and both were likely to hold nice sized Westsloped Cutthroats.
We camped at Brundage Reservoir; a favorite of ours. This year the reservoir was extremely low. Without a boat, and finicky mountain winds, Brundage was not much of an option for fishing.
By 9 am we were on the trail to the first lake. This area had been burned numerous years ago, but the forest was beginning to recover nicely. The cooler fall air had begun to warm the colors of many of the shrubs and grasses.
Two miles and 2 hours later we found ourselves at a small circular lake nestled at the backside of a mountain. The lake was relatively calm and the occasional fish rose as we sat and ate lunch.
With a chubby chernobyl on one rod and a beetle on the other, we set off around the lake.
I spotted a rise nearby and launched a cast in that area. From the depths shot up a nice cutthroat and it devoured my fly!
I sent Katie ahead of me to get first crack at all the fish. We continued around the lake without any more luck. The backside of the lake had several logs we could walk out on. It was here I started to catch a few more fish.
For whatever reason, the fish in this lake didn't like Katie. We had the same fly on and she was fishing the water ahead of me. I was following behind her and catching all the fish. Sometimes it just goes that way.
By 4 pm, we had made it all the way around the lake and set off on the trail back to the truck. This lake had been fairly productive for me, with the cutthroats averaging 14 inches.
The next day, by 10 am we were on the trail to another lake. The hike was a bit shorter, but a much steeper climb. Before long though, we had arrived at another glacial cirque with a beautiful high mountain lake.
The lake was relatively windy, so while eating lunch, I rigged up a leech and suspended it under a strike indicator. I had 3 take downs in a short period of time, but none came to hand. We finished eating and set off around the lake. I gave Katie the rod with the indicator and I put on the same chubby chernobyl I fished the day before.
As we fished along, the rod with the indicator wasn't getting any action, but the dry fly was. Soon we were both throwing dries and both catching fish.
I was impressed with both the size and the colors of the fish here.
When we arrived at the lake, the wind was pushing to the north. As we rounded the backside, the wind was pushing against us to the south. Go figure. Then I stopped, looked around and realized the wind was pushing against every bank on the lake. The wind was literally descending onto the center of the lake and pushing out in every direction. There would be no escaping the wind this day.
We continued along, with the fishing only improving as we reached a bouldery area.
These fish were loving the big brown chubby; likely taking it for a grasshopper. The wind however, was not being nice and only continued to blow harder. Gusts of 20 mph were making our casts increasingly more difficult.
We continued around the lake and fishing slowed a bit.
We reached a small point in the lake where we finally had a break in the wind. Fishing picked up again with a few more beautiful cutties to hand.
Before long it was time to head back down the trail. Despite the wind, this lake had fished quite well. The average fish was 15 inches and all were colored up and gorgeous.
"Ok, I got my billygoatin' fix." Katie said, as she examined her blisters.
"Good." I responded.
I still had a couple more lakes on my list, but those will have to wait until next time.
