Easter weekend, eh?

Apparently it has been a long winter around Alberta. We've been back from New Zealand for a month and while we missed the 3 harshest months I'm not sure that we would want to enjoy much more cross country skiing in the cold, cloudy weather that's been lingering. It's fairly well within typical for early spring though.
Sweet forecast this week, mind you! And I'm sure that the opening day of April 1 coupled with an Easter holiday weekend will no doubt see hordes on Stauffer Cr. Maybe a few will poke around into some of the smaller spring creeks that somehow managed to remain ice free through the cold of this winter. But 95% of the water will be frozen. It looks to be nice weather for a drive for Friday and Saturday.
And with the present forecast and sunshine, there will even be a few bugs. Small black stones (think a black trude in #16 to 20) will be out and about. You might even see a rise or two. Maybe a brown or rocky will take a nymph or streamer. It all depends on just how the conditions line up for you - your fishing.
But, like every season, the weather will be fickle. A slow build up to the nicest day, followed by a collapse. These early, warm spells just can't sustain themselves around central Alberta. There's simply too much snow, too much mountain and arctic influence to keep things steady. So, while the forecast is for nice weather now, make sure you leave yourself enough lee-way to get out when the weather is actually good. The collapse always leaves things empty, cold, cloudy, and quite slow.
Of course, it seldom is the fishing success that leads many out this time of year. These early trips are the t-ball to the season. It's a time to set the ball on the T and take a few swings. There's nothing over the top that happens for most. It's an exercise in setting the season up. And many, may will this coming weekend, so keen up the happy social skills and make a new friend.
If it's fish you are after, maybe turn your attention to the lower Oldman, Crowsnest, or Bow. Less temperamental rainbows and more fish per km await. And it looks to be a very nice forecast down that way as well.
But for us in central Alberta, while the weather is coming nicely, it will be another 6 weeks yet before we see marsh marigolds bring in the first good waves of pmds. By then, hopefully, the skwalas, smattering of tiny to small stones, and a few olives will have come off, bringing a few nice browns to hand.

Will Ferrell Goes Fly Fishing

After floating hopelessly for a spell on a 'kind of' middle of nowhere reach of water, we decided to have a look at a bit of water running against a cliff bank 100 m up a side braid. We hopped out of the raft, walked over. I had taken the time to get myself over the narrow perch above a run and it wasn't until I looked in the top pocket in the upper reach of the run that I finally spotted fish. Amelia & our friend Jack then took the time to walk around to get in the proper position to work the one, large rainbow that was working the back water. It was a stunning fish to watch.

 

 

Not HUGE big, just big enough and doing a sexy enough bit of feeding to warrant the time to do it right... and get it all on video from my perch. It took 10 - 15 minutes for them to walk around and set up. Finally, they were in position. It was a windy day, wind howling loudly in the bush beside me. The riffled water beside them and the wind where I was meant that we had to pretty much yell to hear each other. Fair enough, we did what we had to and all was good.

Fast forward to later that afternoon. We were floating the main river past a good bit of water. The tailout had a great set of rocks. Amelia drift her flies past the rocks and a nice rainbow came to have a look but never took. It followed her fly 20 - 25 m but never committed. We pulled out below and beached the raft to walk back up to the rocks. I once again got up high to spot. I saw 3 rainbows in the wee pocket, only one was feeding.

Once more the wind was howling where I was. I could hardly hear for the wind in the matagouri bush. Assuming they had the same, I was yelling, LOUDLY. At one point, Amelia put her fly in the zone and a fish came to have a look "OH! HERE HE COMES!... ... ... REJECTED!" I yelled out. For the better bit of 10 minutes, I was givin'er vocally. It wasn't until I heard them muttering to themselves that I clued in. I said something in a normal, subdued voice and they both responded. Ah boy. Embarrassing! I'd just been yelling at them for 10 minutes when the accoustics where they were could have been normal talking! Uggh. As Jack said later, he'd never heard someone yell so loudly without being severely pissed off at him.
In hindsight, as I even sit here now, I'm still embarrassed by it. I kind of akin it to me being the Will Ferrell of fly fishing. In hindsight, my "REJECTED!" must have just seemed so Will Ferrell. I could easily see him doing a fly fishing movie, screaming out "REJECTED!!!".  For as much as I don't laugh at a lot of Will's movies, that would be a moment I would for sure. Awesome. I was there. Still embarrassed by it in my memory. Ah well. What can you do? Classic.

PS ~ Thanks to Jack Kos for the middle 2 pics. :)

Mustad C49, Superfly HKP... and other hooky thoughts

I started out on the cheap in fly fishing. When you start fly tying and fishing at age 5, you take what you are given. You get a newspaper route (do they still have those?) and buy stuff at the Fishin' Hole in Edmonton, Christmas and birthdays and grade 4 report cards add to your tying collection. You do the best you can in your blissful ignorance. Having stuff is great, and you do with what you can afford. My uncle taught me enough about fly fishing to make me obsessed - actually I was born obsessive, he just directed my OC nature.

I've always used Mustad hooks. I loved the little cardboard boxes with wax paper wrappings and was sad when they went to the plastic clam shell packaging: it weakened the imagery. But I've never had issue with Mustad. Sure, I've read some on the internet go on about how poor quality the hooks are, etc. I always wondered why I'd never lost a fish to a bad Mustad hook but a few people are so anti the brand. Forward many years of fishing. I've broken points off some hooks in canyon/gorge settings. You can't always miss the rock walls behind you. That was never a big deal. The old, standard hooks always served me well. Through my teenage years, I got into tying small stonefly patterns on the fine wire, extended shank dry fly hooks. They worked well, floated, added thorax length to my patterns. I still enjoy the patterns and they hold up for 6 to 16" cutts in open situations, no issue.

It wasn't until 3 years ago on our third trip to New Zealand that I ever had any kind of issue. We'd started to tie more exclusively on Mustad C49 hooks, thanks to chironomid fishing influence up at Fortress Lake Retreat, with some brookies to 7 or 8 pounds landed on the hooks. They are great little hooks that offer a lifelike curve to chironomid patterns. I began to tie my stream nymphs on the hooks and really have loved the appearance of the patterns, and the and performance on our home waters with cutts and browns that tended to be less than 4 pounds (24") has been satisfactory. It got to the point all of our nymphs were being tied on C49s, but we'd not used them on larger river fish, and not yet in New Zealand.

So, what happened on our third trip to New Zealand? It was a mouse year. Imagine your local waters and taking the fattest trout in the river and doubling its weight, the fin muscles Popeye-ing in strength. It was my first NZ mouse year brown of 8 lbs that opened my eyes. The fish didn't do anything special. It jumped and ran in an open river situation. I was well into my backing a few times in the heavy current. You simply don't just reel large fish in when in heavy water. By the time the fish was to hand, the hook was bent out completely. Garbage. Fair enough, I'd given it a work out, I thought. But what I didn't know at the time was that trip was to become a one and done exercise. After every single fish, the C49 was completely bent out.
Every fish.
It got to the point on that trip that I'd hook up a 4 lb spring creek brown and do the usual fight, and either lose the fish for a bent out hook or land it and have to tie on a new fly. Of course we stopped using those patterns on fish that we really wanted.

It was the first time that we'd ever had any issue with Mustad. We haven't stopped using Mustad. No, we still love it, maybe because of habit, maybe because there is no need to change something that works for you. We're happy with Mustad in every other situation, likely always will be. I can only say good things about every other Mustad experience. Those C49s are great chironomid hooks and never failed us fishing lakes. But on bigger fish in moving water, I wouldn't use it again. I wouldn't risk the time and $ of a trip to New Zealand on that hook.

Now, forward to this year's trip to New Zealand. Obviously no C49s were on board. But, we took a flier on Superfly HKP hooks. Same idea, short shank, curved hook. Just Superfly's in house brand. The result was probably 50% better. Not perfect, but encroaching very reliable. There were some flies that lasted 1/2 doz fish, some that lasted not one, and some that went 3 days of fishing - it's all so subjective, from scenario to scenario, person to person, etc. When I hooked into one 7 1/2 lb brown from a spring creek on one particularly tough day of fishing toward the end of our trip, as I set the hook I said an "ah, shit" to myself, remembering instantly that I had a #18 curved hook nymph below my caddis. Being the first fish any of the 3 of us had hooked into that day I had to fight it less aggressively and be ginger-gentle as it came to net. It was the lingering negativity of our Mustad experience that had me so cautious. We got it, but when you have to adjust your fishing due to hook psychology, you wonder why you did that to yourself to begin with. But, the Superfly hook performed admirably.

If I was to give Mustad C49 an F for large fish in heavy water and a C for stream nymphs on other sized trout, and as close to an A for lake fish on chironomids... I'd give the Superfly HKPs a C+ for big fish in moving water and a B+ otherwise. But that's with the caveat that our/my top end is 12 - 14 river browns. No report on the Superfly hooks on lakes yet. That's just my/our experience.

My friend Nick recently wrote a blog post about hooks in his 8 cents a fly. Make sure you read his blog The Drag Free Drift, it's a great site. We've had the same discussion previously. Why cheap out on hooks? Now, I'm obviously not as strong in my views of that discussion, however, there are times to look at what we're doing. For us, for me, I'll always be a Mustad tier. But, I'd encourage you to look around at some of the reviews of various hooks and various hooks for the fishing scenario you plan to or could be exposed to. Most of the known brands will work well. To take a flier on an unknown? Not always a great idea. Again, for 8 cents...

Now, back to that #1 rule of the internet: to express an opinion, view, perspective, or experience is to invite one back! :)

Top 15 of Canadian 2012 - #13 - The Hungy Hopper

We continue the countdown of top moments at #13. It's the Hungry Hopper.

Amelia & I don't get a lot of opportunity to fish together once things really get rolling in our season. In 2012 we had a few staff up at Fortress Lake Retreat take care of a moderate, consistent month of August. While there's a ton to do to support the Retreat from the home office & supplies stores, we were able to sneak a few trips in together.

One such day opportunity came later in August. We weren't sure what reach of what stream to do, it was as though we were stunned we had time to fish. We decided to go off our regular route and hit a  stream we'd not fished previously and a reach we'd never heard anything about. It was not by happen chance that we wound up on the section we did after asking access permission. A little satellite reconnaissance and we found the perfect sight-fishing set of banks. We walked the stream and were treated to a steady diet of browns in the 14 to 22" range. It was magical - not a breath of wind, and not a cloud in the sky. We simply spotted trout holding in the water or spotted rise forms upstream as we walked. And most fish - all they needed was a hopper landing somewhere within 10 feet of them - up, side, or down stream of their lie.

As we came around one amazing bend, looking upstream, I spotted a gorgeous brown rising at the top end. It was slurrrping shamelessly. Its wake... impressive. It was Amelia's turn too, so I was getting excited behind the camera to shoot the event. But then she moved a little slower, suggesting she saw a good fish rise just above her in what looked to be 10" of water in a shallow trough under overhanging grasses. Sluurrrp went the upper brown. Painful, that girl, sometimes... just cast to that big fatty up top already! But no... she waited. Her lower fish rose again. I didn't think much of it, more hopped up on my hopper happy fatty at the top end. I framed it on video, the two fish rising in unison. Her cast was perfect - a foot above the lower fish, the hopper draping off the grasses and into the trough. SSSSUUUUCCK.

I'll go on record as being wrong... again. The take - amazing. Hookset? Spectacular. It was one of those - set the hook and watch the world explode moments. All you saw was thrashing white with a dark tail wiggling from the froth... kind of like that alien popping out of dude's chest in the first Alien movie. You can't not see it, you know?

And then the fight was on. It went upstream - a huge wake and an arcing fly line. I was so convinced the upper fish was a monster that on video you hear me telling Amelia to horse her fish back as to not spook the tank upstream. It rose once while she fought her fish. That was the last we saw of it as her fish owned the 4 wt a moment. And she did horse it, I guarantee you, I'll give her that. And it was a spectacular fish from start to finish. As it came to net with it's big, rubbery tail, maybe hers was worth sacrificing that top fish after all. It was in that 25 or 26" range.

"Addicted to Radar!"

One of my favorite all-time quotes came a few years back. Amelia & I were watching what was supposed to be a major league baseball game. The sky was shown to be blue on tv but the grounds crew came out and put the tarps on the infield. 15 minutes later, with everyone wondering "huh?" they took the tarps off. Next inning they did the same thing. This happened three times before the tv crew did a little investigation. It turns out that the umpires had heard there was a threat of a severe thunder-storm before the game and had designated someone to watch the radar. Apparently, the person watching radar got a little twitchy and tipped off the umpires several times, hence the delay. It never did rain. The quote came after the third delay "Jeepers, these guys are addicted to radar!"

Well, Amelia laughed her ass off at me and I had no choice but to eat it.
I am addicted to radar and she knows it. If there's one thing I do, be it at home in Alberta or when in New Zealand, I watch the weather forecasts, stream flow reports, and yes, the radar loops to see what's going on where. Be it New Zealand or home, I can tell you exactly what the streams look like without going out. After 20 years of relying on the internet, I guess I've gotten pretty good at this stuff. There again, when on the road in New Zealand without internet, I rely on the computer model long term forecast which is 95% accurate 4 or 5 days out. And when the internet goes down at home, it's as much about playing a hunch as it is relying on fact. So far this week, when I was without internet due to Shaw's fire, my hunches were pretty good.

Why mention this now? Well, all day I had planned on heading out west tonight. But, as has happened almost all year, another sytem has moved north out of Montana into central Alberta. Sure enough, the cells started to pop up as forecast all along the foothills. Where I was headed was on the cusp of the early formation and I hedged my bets and stayed home.
As it turned out, the radar image at left turned out to be a 15mm per hour rain for a few hours and nothing turns off a reliable hatch like rapidly changing water/weather/temp conditions.

If anyone out there has a t-shirt that reads "Addicted to RADAR" please send it to me and I'll proudly wear it! Ah well, just another day in the world of being me, I suppose. We all have our vices. At least mine's cheap and innocent enough.  :)

Sight Fishing - Northern Lights Fly Tiers Presentation

Amelia & I will be presenting on sight fishing at the Northern Lights Fly Tiers / Edmonton TU in Edmonton on Wednesday, November 10. The club meets at 10844 117 St Queen Mary Park community centre.  The evening starts at 7pm with a get together - coffee and Timbits - and the program around 7:45 to 8pm.

We're talking about how we've gone from solely chasing hatches and snouts, to adding in sunny day sight fishing and looking for fish. We'll show the transition of how we used to fish our home waters prior to our first trips to New Zealand to how we approach our waters now. It will primarily be video footage with some great moments from the S Island of New Zealand as well as some fun stuff from Alberta. Browns, rainbows, and cutts. The video time line is about 50 to 55 minutes

Hope to see you there!

Last Day of Our Acquaintance

Every year, each stream has it. Some years you don't know that it will be, but it is. Some years it's plainly obvious. This year, given the forecast, was such an obvious year. Wednesday we knew we would fish Thursday. Thursday's forecast was for +18C and mainly sunny. Friday was forecast to be +5C. The rest of the forecast was cold, snowy, cloudy, rainy. When it's Oct 21 in the rockies, with that forecast, you pretty much know that this would be the last day of our acquaintance for the 2010 season in the high country. So, without further delay, a few shots of our last day up on high...

Saturday walk & photos

The weather turned yesterday, finally. We finally broke freezing overnight again. Finally? Yes, we've been waiting for a couple of cold nights - in the -10C range. Last night was the first of those and we took advantage of it. Typically, to see browns spawn during the day you need a cold night and a cool, lower light day - or areas of a stream in shade. Of course, as we walked, we came across a few brookies spawning up in the higher reaches of the stream as well. It wasn't a warm day but the video was great, and a few photos were ok on the new camera. I can hardly wait to shoot some New Zealand tanks this winter. The brown I photo'd in the following shots - feeding - was only about 16". The shots turned out ok for being in the shade, moving, and not being a huge fish. The shots of the spawning browns below were a pair - she's about 17" and he's 22-ish. It's interesting to walk this stream. By the end of each season we tend to walk it without rods more often than not, and focus more on the fish spotting and photo/video. It's neat.

A good day with some good, neat moments.

ADD Day

We decided to return to a lake we hadn't been to in 11 years. That's getting to be a long time. We'd fished Fiesta, Ironside, etc lately, as well as the Ram, and the browns are starting to spawn here, so we opted to do something out of the ordinary. Saturday was +24C and the wind was down, and surely there'd be boatmen falling. Last time we were at this lake, we caught several fish and AJ managed one in the 3 - 4 pound range (have to check the old albums) during the flying ant hatch. But it was only 1 that size, the rest less than 14". We arrived and unloaded the boat and gear. I knew it would be a slog to the lake, walking down the cut line, through the old burn (I recall fighting that fire back in the FS days in '95), and through the muskeg. It was a good effort to get to the lake with the needed gear. We timed it perfectly. Within 30 minutes of arriving, the air warmed beautifully and fish began rising. Raindrops of boatmen pitter-pattered the lake and fish were aggressively taking them. It began 4 hours of see a rise, cast, catch a fish, repeat, repeat, repeat... If a cast went without a trout, you'd hear a rise beside or behind you, lift, and flip to it as you turned, usually getting a take. ADD kids would have a hey-day. Hell, we both felt like we were ADD kids for those hours. It was a ton of fun. We landed well in excess of well, lots. Easily 25/hr. None were really big, the largest maybe 17". Most were 10 to 14". Not much has changed. But they were "on", and we had a ton of fun.

Saw it coming

If you read the blog this week, the post about the big browns in the pond, the follow up post should have been easy to predict. It was for me. There I was, alone, AJ up in Edmonton. Not a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind, crystal clear water and cruising, feeding browns below my feet. I even said AJ & I would be going back to try to get it all on HD on Friday. As soon as I'd stated that, I could tell you what would happen. And it did. We went back to that pond yesterday. It was cloudy and windy. Sighting was tough. Video with that glare was pointless. I managed to sight the large male. He wasn't feeding. In the 3 days between visits he'd gone from taking nymphs and cruising the shoreline for 100m to patrolling 5m of shoreline, holding atop his nest. He now sports white scuff marks on his fins. The redd is quite impressive. Didn't so much as cast to him.
So, we decided that it would be a good time to go to another set of ponds a mile away on another tiny spring creek. We tromped through the bush and as we approached saw a school of 9 trout. Pretty cool stuff in a pond that we'd last been to in early spring 2 - 1/2 years ago. The water was murky with ice at that time. Today, gin clear. As we sat on the bank waiting for the fish to cycle the pond, we saw something I'd not seen before. There were 3 browns, 2 in the 13 or 14" range, and one FAT male in the 24" range. The interesting part was the other 6 fish were brookies, and they were all cruising together. It was obvious the big brown was on his game. He was pestering the smaller females, sidling up to them, patrolling the pool. He was likely looking for a place to happen and a fish to do it with, and wasn't interested in any food. I managed takes from 3 of the brookies but the browns were totally turned off. It was fascinating to watch. And now I have yet another pond with another big male brown to visit next year. :)

On other notes, the mountain rivers remain murky thanks to runoff from the snow. Other local waters are in good shape but the browns are obviously getting into the spawn mode now. Area lakes are in great shape, with boatmen hatches and caddis the hilights. The weather is going to change Sunday afternoon - evening with more seasonable temperatures coming. There might be a bounce back day mid week, otherwise it's looking like low to maybe mid teens now. Fall is on its way. Turn over won't be too far away on local lakes.

All for one and . . . well... none for me

I was supposed to be at the computer all day. The forecast was for clouds and a cool +14. The clouds were nowhere to be seen. It was +18 at noon and almost no wind. Perfect sight fishing weather. Where could I go that wouldn't keep me out for hours on end, that I could hit & run? Google Earth teased me with a few tiny spring creeks a couple springs ago, leading AJ & I to come face to face with a monster brown cruising a beaver pond. It's an hour drive and 35 min walk in, but I knew it was one pond. Bingo.

I walked up the tiny little spring and in the tailout of a pool the size of a bath mat spooked an 11" brown. Not what I'd come for but a great sight.

It certainly is a tiny spring creek.

I arrived at the pond, the sun was at a perfect angle for viewing, the wind still, and I stood atop the bench. I hadn't been here in 2 1/2 years, and last time the fish were somewhat sluggish as it was just ice out. Besides that there might be 3 fish sharing the wintering pool as carrying capacity dictates supply and demand opportunity. I saw nothing as I strolled. Strolled might be a big word. Took a small step forward every 10 seconds. Nothing. I decided to take a cast out, just in case something held below a submerged log. Insert dumb mistake here . The irony wasn't lost on me as I reached out for my fly. I just got it out of the tree and was thinking to myself "this is usually when it would swim by". Uh huh. As I pulled my fly out and swung my rod behind me to avoid the reflective shine of the rod on the water, my big brown from 2 1/2 yrs ago came down the shoreline pipe, 2 feet from shore, leisurely swimming and finning. I struggled to race to get my fly out of the shrubs behind me. I looked for the fish. It was within 10 feet, closing, coming right at me. I froze on the spot, hoping to go unnoticed. If ever there was a gimmie fish, that was the moment. 26" and FAAAAT. 6 pounds easily, going 7 likely. And on down the shoreline it went. I was able to untangle my fly and line and give "chase". This was an ant's version of the OJ speed chase. I could see the fish but couldn't rush to it for fear my footsteps would reverberate into the water and spook it. I had to walk around into the bush and try to get ahead of the fish. I last saw it under a pine tree heading for the tail end of the pool. I got behind another pine tree and looked down the bank in the direction the fish was headed. It wasn't there. I looked back up the bank. Coming toward me with a huge head and big, rubbery lips was my Maestro. I bow & arrowed a cast along the outreaching pine. The fish, now less than a rod length from me, turned and came right at the hopper. It looked just like those photos on the New Zealand Fly Fishing Forum, the big head and lips coming straight up from the bottom, mouth agape. Awesome. Incredible. I had ample time to insert adjectives as the fish came in the still water. It turned and refused! Bugger! I lifted and shot the arrow again. It came within 2" of the fly from the bottom and again refused. I lifted and shot the arrow one last time. Another refusal. The toughest gimmie fish of the summer. It went on the opposite side of the pine tree from me and rested for a minute. I waited for it to move, not wanting to commit to taking a walk around the bush again to reposition in case it too moved, causing me to lose sight of it. So I sat. Waited. Took a couple of photos of the fish sitting there. All the while, my last cast lay on the water, waiting for the fish to move back out.

As I put the camera away, I realized I had been too focused on the big boy. At my feet was a smaller, 21" female. Here's the conundrum. My fly was sitting on the water and while it would have been nice to catch the female, I knew that doing so would kill any shot of the male - it would spook the second I hooked up. In a split decision, as the female rose at my hopper, I lifted it off the water. The female actually came out of the water to take the hopper but missed. She stopped, stunned, before sidling up to the male. The two of them swam away together, back up the shoreline. As the big male went, I watched as he took a nymph, his white mouth opening and gill plate flaring. No doubt any nymph would have taken him.
I decided to wait once more, and opened my fly box to tie on a dropper. The corner of my eye revealed the male doubling back. I was still with hopper. Only the hopper. And we played the same damned game once more. This time, rather than station on the opposite side of the pine, he went to the far side. I considered giving chase with a long cast, but as I raised the rod the female swam under my rod. Again, not wanting to spook her and then the male by default, I lifted the fly off the water as she again was coming straight for it. I tried to wait her out. Sadly, she stationed at my feet. About 30 seconds later the male cruised past and the female followed along for the ride. As he left his mouth again opened to take something subsurface. I didn't see them again.
It was one of those trips where I knew I was all for one pool, all for one large male brown. I knew I had to risk none. Alas, it turned out to be all for one, and none for me.
I take some comfort in the fact that AJ couldn't be with me and there would have been no video of the moment. So, by not catching it today, coupled with the forecast later this week when she gets home to fish with me again, maybe... just maybe we can recreate that scene and get it on the HD.
It won't take me 2 - 1/2 yrs to get back there.

The Inside Passage

One of the curious things this time of the year is being on the water, pick one - any one, and having the place  to my / ourselves. All fall, wherever Amelia & I fish, we haven't seen a person, nor a sign of anyone having been around recently. The fishing has been ok to pretty good on the streams. One of the reasons for absenteeism on these streams might just be because the lakes have been so good this fall since the weather smartened up. I was at one lake on Sunday. I pulled up to the parking lot to find it completely empty and was on the lake an hour before another fellow pulled in. "Big difference from yesterday," he said. It was cooler, cloudy, and a chinook ridge was building out west, all of which conspired to keep the boatmen hatch away. We need a nice, warm, mid day sun for that to happen. But that's not what he was talking about. Apparently the day prior, on which those exact conditions favourable to boatmen coming off in droves, had been a zoo. The parking lot was full and everyone was catching fish at will. "Just had to cast to a rise and you had a 50 - 50 chance yesterday." Before he arrived I'd landed a doz or so in an hour and had experienced something like that. But as his boat touched the water, the lake, that had seen a few fish rising, when quiet. For 1/2 hr the lake was devoid of rises. The question he and I both faced was whether we each wanted to catch fish badly enough to change tactics. Within an hour, he left. I moved locations and found some more rising fish at the mouth to a back bay. But, true to form of any small lake with a finite number of trout, you could tell that they had been worked over the day before. Watching for rises and cruisers waking the shallows, each fish sighted was cast to. The fish key in on dropping boatmen with their lateral lines, sensing the vibration and turning to go investigate. But most of the fish simply refused at the last second no matter the pattern, size, presentation, nor depth. Then, all went quiet again. Fair enough.
The chinook arch grew thicker and darker out west. The rising fish slowly went away again and I again faced a choice. Go home or change tactics. I wasn't going subsurface as I simply didn't want to watch a leech (or anything, for that matter) hanging from a bobber that day. Sometimes you just want optics.

I keyed on the inside passage, moving my boat into the weeds and pads to focus on the thin strip of very shallow, open water 1 to 10 feet from shore. And I waited. Every 5 minutes a fish would shark into the shallows, its wake a dead give away of its presence. I tied on a caddis and cast to these fish in 10" of water. Even though very few of these fish were surface feeding, they were much easier prey at this game, and the optics were amazing. I stayed right up until dark, moving around from strip to strip of inside passage, moving into position and casting at sighted fish waking through the shallows. I caught quite a few more. The questions I always face is that while more fish can be caught with other tactics, which one do you want to do, how many fish do you need to catch, and what makes me happy - what do I enjoy from a day's fishing? There simply are many days where other tactics would clearly prove better, but maybe catching fewer, sighted fish on dry flies in shallow water would fulfill my day. And it did.  :)