The Pond

I stood on the makeshift raft Leroy had crafted in our shop earlier that day, I held my five weight in one hand and my 4X leader attached to a number 12 Zug Bug in the other. I gazed at the tannin stained water watching for the tell tale sign of my quarry. Two feet from a fallen tree a sipping sound and small rings in the water gave the trout away, I cast slightly further than the rise and made a short, slow strip. The end of my line darted forward and I raised the rod and stripped a small amount of line. Two minutes later I held a beautiful 8-Inch native cutthroat, as densely spotted as any fish I’ve seen with crimson slashes on the throat and a golden hue to his thick body. When I released him he swam directly toward the sam snag as if this was a routine event.
    June 1st is quite the day in washington state. Most every stream, river, and creek opens on this day, and you can find most anglers on their favorite trout stream. Perhaps the Yakima if the runoff isn’t too bad, the Elwah with it feisty native ‘bows, a few can be found on the Skykomish or similar rivers fishing for the elusive and few summer steelhead. Others avoid the crowds and the runoff on their favorite small streams. Cedar creeks, headwaters, and tributaries often hold good populations of lightly fished trout.




    I spend this day somewhat different than most anglers. My choice body of water is found down a long gravel BIA road, where few people ever go. Unlike most June 1st destinations my water has no perceivable current. The fish aren’t affected by hatcheries or dams (a rarity in washington), and though it’s casting distance from a river with a name that doubles as nomenclature for all salmon in some parts of the world and once inspired a series of G-Loomis rods, only a handful of people know it even exists.
    It has been many things. Originally it was an old river channel, one of many created by unpredictable glacial flows on this river. It was prevented from stagnation by two tributary streams that originally fed the river. When tribal logging operations built a railroad to transport wood, the lower end was culled out for drainage purposes. It has several beaver dams at the inlets and outlets. This all culminates to create a pond with bustling insect life, clear but not to clear tannin stained water, a healthy population of crayfish, sculpins and three spined sticklebacks, and one of the best native cutthroat fisheries I have ever had the privilege of fishing. It is much bigger than most beaver ponds, about as long and wide as a football field with almost all of it between 7 and 15 feet.
    There are so many fish in this pond it is absolutely mind boggling, I have seen sunny days when catching fish is all but impossible and every move of your shadow creates a thousand silver flashes in the water. Despite the numbers, the depth and forage prevent the stunting commonly seen in pond and small lake trout. The biggest cutthroat I have ever seen came from this pond, it measured a full 29 inches and I couldn’t fit my eleven year old hands around it. When my father pulled the hook from its mouth several crayfish and a stickleback popped out of its mouth. In fall sea-run cutthroat navigate the beaver dam and all hell breaks loose in the pond. A fish every cast is common, and the average size jumps to almost 16 inches.
    I could not Imagine a better smallwater trout fishery, and every time I go I leave with an irrepressible smile on my face. Because of this pond, beaver ponds and back sloughs will always hold a special place in my heart, and the trout that live in them a place on my line.