LAKE GEORGE — Going, going . . .
Elevenmile Reservoir’s ice was disappearing fast late last week and with continued windy, warm weather in the forecast, expanses of open water were growing wider by the day, if not the hour.
So why wait? With ice-out fishing at hand, it’s time to hit the open water. Time to emerge from a winter of fly-fishing semi-hibernation and time to get the bugs out.
Ice-out is a magic time at Elevenmile, and many other reservoirs, a season that no longer is winter but not quite spring. Seemingly invigorated, trout cruise in shallow water near the shore, likely drawn to open water freshly aerated by the wind and waves. Though the water temperature is uniformly cold, the trout are beginning to feed.
Many of the cruisers are large, possibly rainbow trout in search of spawning grounds. If ever trout of 4, 5 or 6 pounds, or possibly larger, are to be taken from the shore, the odds appear best in early spring.
Anticipation of such good times begins even before the ice-fishing season starts to wind down, but when they arrive, fishermen still might not be fully prepared. Equipment is hastily assembled. Almost invariably something is overlooked. A fishing vest that held all the essentials last fall tends to be missing key items when it makes its spring debut.
Streamer flies designed to suggest crayfish and other choice mouthfuls to the trout have been especially effective for Elevenmile’s early season trout in the past, so a box of Woolly Buggers and similar patterns again found its way into my fishing-vest pocket. An odds-and-ends fly box containing scuds and miscellaneous nymph patterns went in next, along with stout leader tippets, a partial packet of split shot and a couple of strike indicators.
Time for fishing this day was short.Through a kaleidoscope of sunshine and clouds, trout periodically were visible moving through a rocky cove. Here and there, rise rings of trout began rippling the water and once in a while a dorsal fin was visible, barely slicing through the surface.
Trout obviously were feeding a little below the surface, showing little interest in a Woolly Bugger. They were after bugs of a different sort, most likely the emerging midges that billowed in small clouds above the water.
Down the way, another fly caster landed and released a trout, then another. Midges seemed the way to go. But amid the anticipation of large trout chasing larger flies, several boxes of midge patterns, along with the finer tippets needed to properly present them, remained in the tackle bag, locked up in the pickup.
Now what? Walking back for the midges would require precious time. Working the woolly bugs had been slow, but that could change at any moment. A truly large fish still could turn up, quickly making up in quality what the day might have lacked in quantity.
Down the way, the man caught and released another trout.
“What are you getting them on?” someone sharing the spot asked.
“Red midge,” he answered.
Midges? Woolly Buggers? The tackle bag had plenty of both, along with all the necessary accessories. Soon enough, all would find their way into a pocket of the fishing vest.
After all, tomorrow would be another day, and offer an expanded patch of open water.
