Swamp Fishing July 27, 2014:

It is the peak of summer in the small town of Government Camp, and the town is alive with tourists, skiers, and skateboarders caught up in the rush to escape the hustle and bustle of the city and find a place with little to no drug enforcement. I, on the other hand, was excited to do some more fishing here, and the perfect place was the small swamp that exists a short distance from my cabin. Although I call it a swamp, it is mainly two small lakes fed by a cold spring that not only keeps the fish cool in summer, but prevents them from becoming iced over in the wintertime. Since today was relatively late in an unusually warm summer, the first pond we went to had lowered in volume considerably. In addition, the lily pads and weeds that are normally present along the shoreline carpeted nearly the whole lake.

Of all the trout fishing I have done, I have never been reminded more of bass fishing. The fish seek shelter in the lily pads and water reeds, only darting out to grab a floating insect or two. As a result, casts have to be extremely precise so as not to get snagged in the weeds but close enough to get a strike. A few minutes in, I hooked a fish on a small Parachute Adams, but it got tangled up in the weeds.

Later, tying on a new fly while swatting the hordes of Mosquitos that live here, my dad hooked a fish, and I rushed over to net it. It was a small Brook Trout, and it was carefully released back into the pond. I ran back over to my rod, and began five minutes of tangles, knots, snags, fly losses, and cursing. After I finally got a grip on the situation, I cast a bead head pheasant tail out and began stripping it in. A few missed strikes later, I hooked into a nice wild Brook Trout that I made sure to keep out of the weeds.

After losing a few more flies in the lily pads without any fish to counteract the frustration, we decided to head further in the woods to the other pond in the area. This pond is smaller, shallower, harder to access, and much, much, weedier. However, I managed to wade through the muck long enough to reach a convenient "fishing platform" formed by a moss-encrusted log. This lake also gave a great view of Mt. Hood. 

I tied on a Purple Haze and began casting towards any rises I saw. My dad did the same, and we both began hooking up into fish. One was a beautiful male Brook Trout in vivid spawning coloration. After taking a photo, we carefully released the fish. 

The fish, although aggressive and obliging, were not stupid. The clear, still water let them examine each presentation carefully, and many of our flies were ignored. This, coupled with the inaccessibility and difficult wading and casting makes this not an ideal place for the beginner. 

We continued casting. Although many of my casts were beautiful and inspired, just as many looked like props from a spider-themed horror movie. I was eventually able to straighten the garbage out, and made a nice cast right towards some weeds. Almost immediately, I was bit. The fish felt big for a Mt. Hood pond, and it ended up being a nice native Cutthroat Trout.

It, most importantly of all the fish, was released. Although I always cringe when I see pictures of bloodied and battered fish  claimed to have been "safely released," this one looked fine swimming back into the pond from which it came. There were more to follow, as we hooked up a few more times with both Brookies and Cutthroats.

 

Eventually, it began getting dark, and we had to start working our way back. We have gotten some strange stares while walking past tourists and locals alike, but none of them (hopefully) had been fishermen. Although I did not disclose the exact location of this place, it is inevitable that some people already know where it is or will figure out where it is. This is fine, but I please ask that all fishing be restricted to fly fishing or artificial lure fishing. Barbed hooks are acceptable, as they don't cause as much damage as everyone says, but please, no bait or similar. These are wild fish whose populations will be unnaturally depleted through the inevitable deep-hookings that bait fishing causes. Thank you, and tight lines.