LAKE GEORGE — Looking for a fish dinner? . . . Then Elevenmile Reservoir may not be the place for you.
Maybe. Maybe not. Certainly the lake has a good population of fish, and all the elements were in place this balmy November day, more reminiscent of mid-October than the week of Veterans’ Day.
Though nighttime temperatures routinely had been dropping below freezing, not a hint of ice had yet been noted on the reservoir. Water temperatures remained in the upper 30s to lower 40s, and the reports were promising.
“They’ve been moving all up and down the north shoreline,” said Larry Falk, of the 11 Mile Marina, while preparing his shop for the anticipated ice-fishing season. “Big rainbows and cutthroats . . . They move in and out and fishing for them has been going in spurts. The fly (fishing) guys might be getting them for a while, then that shuts down and the bait fishermen start catching them. Then you might get a lull when nobody’s catching, but then they move back in again.”
So, the table for a trout dinner appeared to be set. An appropriate wine already had been selected. Fishing tackle was hastily assembled, but as the pickup was ready to leave the driveway came an admonition from the house:
“Go ahead and bring one home if you catch one — just don’t bring home Moby Dick. Try to catch a little one for dinner; those others are just too big for the two of us.”
Now, precisely when a trout morphs into Moby Dick might be largely a matter of perception, but by some definitions, a length of 16 inches is considered the standard for a quality fish.
Elevenmile is among the state’s premier big-fish waters and regularly among the leaders for the Colorado Division of Wildlife’s Master Angler certificates that are awarded annually to trout fishermen. To help maintain its trophy potential, the daily and possession limit at the lake is four trout, of which only two may exceed 16 inches. So for the sake of bringing home a suitably small dinner fish, that seemed as good a cut-off size as any.
At first glance, that seemed an attainable goal. The surface was dead-calm, and sure enough, some half-dozen trout were immediately visible in shallow water. Others from a range of sizes came into view. They moved in, they moved out . . . They scattered as an initial cast landed on the water but soon returned.
“They’re hard to catch when it’s calm,” Falk had noted. “You need some wind, and afternoons have been best.”
Wind seldom is in short supply at Elevenmile, and this day would be no different. It began to blow at noon. A chop appeared on the water. Fish were less visible through the waves, but likely still on the move.
With little insect activity evident, the starting rig had been a small, bead-head Pheasant Tail nymph, trailed by a No. 20 Hare’s Ear nymph, possibly suggesting an immature midge to the fish. A bright strike indicator served as much to suspend the flies off the bottom as to indicate a fish had taken one of the flies.
The indicator bobbed up and down in the waves as it drifted back toward shore. A dark form appeared beneath it. It dipped; the hook was set. A hook-jawed male rainbow had taken the Hare’s Ear. In due time, it was brought to net. Twenty-plus inches . . . Too big. It was returned to the water and with a shake of its tail was gone.
Other fish took scud patterns and a bead-head leech. They, too, were quickly released.
Falk couldn’t resist the festivities. A series of tube jigs and a black marabou jig produced quality rainbows and a cutthroat on spinning tackle.
Several small schools of kokanee salmon moved in. The trout were right behind them, presumably in search of eggs from the spawn-ripe salmon.
The steady wave action gradually produced a mud line along the downwind shore. The fishing activity slowed down, but on another day, the trout will be back.
Whether following the salmon or merely cruising near the shoreline in search of food, the late-fall trout have been plentiful. Fishermen can enjoy some periods of good activity until winter finally arrives, but if a fish dinner for two is on the menu, they might need to look to other waters.
Belly boats or shore fishing only
Spinney Mountain and Elevenmile reservoirs are closed for the season to boating. Only belly boats that are exclusively fin-propelled and are considered fishing aids, rather than vessels, are permitted. That means canoes, rowboats, inflatable pontoons with oars or electric motors and similar craft may not be used. Spinney Mountain Reservoir will close for the season at freeze-up or Nov. 30, whichever comes first.
