I finally understand the old
adage of gold at the end of the rainbow. However, my recent experience fishing my backyard stream has taught me that there are places where the rainbow and the gold live in harmony, neither having elevated status over the other.
I have been trying to crack the code on our little backyard stream for a year. It finally happened last weekend. Further, the gold and rainbow I am speaking of is that which colors the scales of the
Salmo Trutta and
Gairdneri. That is not to say that true gold does not still haunt the waters of Camp Creek as the neighbor boy has been panning all summer and is making a good damn living doing it.
It was hotter than blue blazes last weekend, first serious heat this year in the Sierra foothills. Sunday I decided to quit ranch work early to hit the stream in hopes that the cold mountain pocket water and silvery fishes would help cool me to the core. The sun was already high as I climbed down into the canyon seeking the cool green canopy of the river. Salmon berries, wild flowers, and lush green
broad leaf flora abound in that river bed. It is truly a mystic and magical place.
I started fishing upstream from the bridge which is also our southern most property line. It's an old wooden/steel truss style bridge and still has the original beams and metal spikes the gold miners drove into it many years ago. I took my 2 weight, built by the old man, and started right off fishing hoppers, bouncing them off the banks into undercuts and deep plunge pools. I hit my first rainbow in the first hole.
This little beauty is as wild a trout as they come. I fished the day away and ended with this awesome wild rainbow. I am in heaven.
I have been trying to crack the code on our little backyard stream for a year. It finally happened last weekend. Further, the gold and rainbow I am speaking of is that which colors the scales of the Salmo Trutta and Gairdneri. That is not to say that true gold does not still haunt the waters of Camp Creek as the neighbor boy has been panning all summer and is making a good damn living doing it.
It was hotter than blue blazes last weekend, first serious heat this year in the Sierra foothills. Sunday I decided to quit ranch work early to hit the stream in hopes that the cold mountain pocket water and silvery fishes would help cool me to the core. The sun was already high as I climbed down into the canyon seeking the cool green canopy of the river. Salmon berries, wild flowers, and lush green broad leaf flora abound in that river bed. It is truly a mystic and magical place. 
I started fishing upstream from the bridge which is also our southern most property line. It's an old wooden/steel truss style bridge and still has the original beams and metal spikes the gold miners drove into it many years ago. I took my 2 weight, built by the old man, and started right off fishing hoppers, bouncing them off the banks into undercuts and deep plunge pools. I hit my first rainbow in the first hole. 
This little beauty is as wild a trout as they come. I fished the day away and ended with this awesome wild rainbow. I am in heaven.
