It never really seemed like the vacation had started until key elements of the senses had been triggered. For my mother, I suspect this was the smell of fresh laundry days before the trip started and the cedar smell in the attic where suitcases were stored. Dad?s trigger may have been the fresh car wax and mowed lawn. For me it was the first glimpse of the huge blue and gold dome of the West Virginia State capitol building as we passed on our way to Uncle Sylvan?s Flattop Lake weekend home. For sure the sun baked smell of fresh road tar or the creosote soaked wooden sign and fence posts at the entrance to Lake Hope were likely to herald the start of something good. At least twice a year now, my senses wake up at the sight of large granite slabs jutting out between conifers as I wind my way east on Route 88 toward Alpine County and the Carson Rivers. This is where the trip really starts (although my fishing buddy would argue that it is at the Lockford Meat Company where they sell nothing but sausage, fresh jerky and prime New York strip steaks.

Saturday, August 18 was the start of my summer timeshare week at The Ridge above South Shore Lake Tahoe and a planned fishout with Club members. I had hoped for a better turnout since I had prepared an extensive handout (still available for anyone who needs information on the general area) announcing the trip months before. I was concerned about low water conditions but determined to make the best of it by heading off to one of many nearby lakes if necessary. On the drive up, my first serious stop was at Silver Lake. Surprised to find a decent flow at its outflow creek I rigged my 7½ foot 3 weight rod with a rusty brown ant pattern and headed down. Bait fishers were having no luck in the summer heat so I moved along quickly, concentrating on dropping the fly into any and every undercut bank or shaded overhang. Sporadically, I was rewarded with a few small rainbows that snapped at my offering.

Traveling on past Kirkwood Ski Resort and Caples Lake, I took the turnoff to Woods Lake located only two miles off the highway. The creek, which had yielded up to 20 small bows and brook trout per hour only two months before, was nothing more than a trickle. This is a beautiful, natural lake surrounded by towering mountains and is not subject to large water fluctuations. The parking areas at the lake were jammed full of weekend hikers and a few picnickers so I moved along, soon topping Carson Pass. Descending toward Hope Valley, I made another obligatory stop at Red Lake, promising to come back with my float tube for big, elusive browns if I tired of the East Fork. Water was very low on the West Carson at Pickett?s Junction (the turnoff on Hwy 89 to South Lk. Tahoe) and only a few bait dunkers were gathered around the bridge. A few passes of a black Woolley Bugger were ignored by the foot long planters so I abandoned my half-hearted efforts and proceeded on to Woodfords Station. There, a chat with Dave, the owner, revealed the river "had been tough".

Next afternoon, as promised, I arrived at lunchtime at Hangman?s Bridge just a few miles out of Markleeville with a picnic for the fishout participants. It wasn?t long before Paul Lutz pulled into the parking area and reported that "tough fishing" may have been an understatement. He had arrived Friday and had covered a fair amount of water on the East Fork and Wolf Creek. Within minutes though Dave Harris (he always catches fish) and his friend met us, reporting happier news of catching about eight good fish Friday evening. He had been down in the canyon by the airport near Indian Creek Reservoir. A Harley Davidson weekend outing was being held at the airport accounting for the lack of bikes parked in front of the Cutthroat Saloon in town. He also had done fairly well this morning. We waited a short time to see whether Rich Palmini would show but later learned he missed us during his midday siesta. The four of us headed back to a picnic table on the edge of town (which is only two blocks from the other edge of town) alongside Markleeville Creek. We parted after a leisurely lunch with Dave headed toward the Truckee River and Paul to his room at the Woodford Inn to await the late day hatch. Hatches were very sparse all week. I decided to work off the sandwich, potato salad, condiments and beer by wading the "Trophy Trout" area below Hangman?s Bridge.

I was determined to catch fish in spite of the mid to high 80?s heat and low water and rapidly made my way downstream to all my favorite spots. Only a couple of other anglers were out so I had my pick of the best holding water. Many of my favorites were too shallow to yield any prizes but I eked out a few eight to twelve inchers on my favorite dry fly (a #16 orange Stimulator) and a CDC Caddis. The following day was even hotter and I decided to wade down river to the confluence of Markleeville Creek and work my way back up. I encountered only a few other fly fishers. Although I caught a number of fish, none were sizable.