My Dad and I started the weekend in front of a barbed wire fence, and on the other side was the beginning of our 6 mile hike in and out of Kirman Lake. If we could get there, it was said that the brookies were as fat as footballs…How can anyone resist, right? Certainly not the avid fly fishermen that needed to know the truth behind this tall tale.
The lake was up around 7,000 feet, and the aspens were still in full fall colors, painting the hillside with bright orange and yellow. I didn’t even need to launch my float tube, seeing how there were hundreds (and that’s not a fish tale) of brookies cruising the bank. Take a close look at the picture below, and you’ll see about a dozen large brookies hanging out near the reeds, most of them in no more than a foot of water.
I made a few casts, after tying on a small green bead-head caddis, and dropped it in along the reeds. The water was so shallow and clear that I didn’t even need the thingamabobber fastened two feet above the fly. I watched that caddis sink and the brookie swim in to gulp it down. I set the hook and the fight was on.
Sight fishing for brookies in the middle of nowhere is something everyone should experience, but the thing I liked most was just being up there with my Dad. We’ve been fly fishing my entire life, but nothing beats breaking out the 5-wt with my old man. I remember the first time we went fishing together, and how much it truly opened my eyes to the world. Now, I am a father of four, but the relationship between us has not changed. We still drive home with tales of monster fish that got away, only this time I am lucky enough to tell them to my kids.