Big Lost Idaho

Chapter 3:   3rd base/20 oz IPA

The Big Lost:               3^rd base/20oz IPA beer

I’m a beer drinker, and every excellent meal has a great beer to complete it (I won’t go into Knob Creek). We fished this river last, and set it up that way because from all we researched about it, it seemed like the best way to end the expedition. We took highway 75 through Stanley and fished The Salmon, then continued on to highway 93 to Chalis; then drove down to McKay Reservoir. The river before McKay is a free stone, and we both really wanted to give it a shot, but we stayed to the plan and went to the dam. We both really love tail water (water out of a dam).

I have been looking forward to seeing The Big Lost for months. All the info I’ve found about it makes it seem like the river that is overlooked in the area. I find that people key in on certain rivers and give them all the attention, and often overlook rivers that are more fun to fish. It really depends on what you like in a river, and to me The Lost is everything that I love in a river. First off its tail water, which makes for consistent flow, colder temps and basically a more controlled environment for the fish? The life of a river fish is tough, and tail water creates a much more favorable life. Of course being tail water alone doesn’t necessarily make a river healthy. I love “pocket water” with a lot of turns and bends, because it leads to holes that have faster white water developing into deep troughs. Troughs hold a lot of fish, and it’s just so nice to cast into, be it a dry fly or nymphing. There is nothing better than casting a hopper with a soft hackle dropper up into one of these types of holes! Throughout the whole trip I used two rods, one for nymphing and one with a hopper/dropper.

The first night we got there the fishing was good, I caught a kokanee after two casts, and we both caught fish that night. We worked it hard, and fished until dark. This river is more powerful and swift than it looks, and it really works you. That night I got into some holes that were really hard to get to, and made me really push myself. I was in search of the Lost monsters I have read and heard about. I did not find one.

The next morning we were on the river early—after all this is our last day—suck the marrow from the bone, and we sucked the marrow. We went right below the dam. There is a lot of private area, but unlike Utah they allow you to fish, you just have to find public access. You can’t go tromping through someone’s property, that only fair. Right off the get go we see one of those beautiful bends, and you can see a number of big fish down deep. This is so exciting—sight fishing, you feel like the bull and matador squaring off in the field. I’m sure the fish wouldn’t explain it the same way.

We decide to explore a little, find one more great spot and finish out our day, our trip at that last spot. The hole was just one bend over. So we still have so much ground to cover next time we fish this river. Finally we are hooking some nice fish, in the range of 15 to 20 inches, nothing huge, but nice fish. This whole time I am saying to myself “suck the marrow from the bone, but don’t choke. Have fun, but remember when it’s time to go then go. Besides I miss Melis and the girls, who are always very understand about me spending time on the river, so I don’t want to take advantage—too much.

When fishing is like this, time really does go into a different zone or rather it moves at a different speed; it’s like when you were a kid just before dark and the fun is just exploding, you want to wallow in it like a pig. Don’t be a hog.

Tick, tock, tick, tock a huge rainbow , or brown drops back out of the deep hole and starts feeding in more shallow water. I’m going to fish to him for 15 minutes win or lose then wrap it up; Johnny agrees 15 min, then cats out.

I throw hopper/hackle at him and at least 6 different nymphs, the 15 minutes has become 30 minutes, and sure as hell we are still there fishin it up. “okay Johnny 15 minutes seriously--agreed?” “Agreed,” he replies… With a hopper pattern and one of my soft hackles, he looks at it, then kind of backs up. I can maybe see some movement in the hopper, I set the hook…

See chapter 4:     Home base/The Salmon