Return to Virginia Lakes

I always see TV shows or read books and magazine on how cool it is to catch Brook trout for fly fisherman. Living here in California, it's kinda of hard to satisfy that urge. It can be done, but one must goto the highlands to accomplish this Endeavour. The Virginia Lakes of Hoover Wilderness is one such of a place. There are 5 lakes in the immediate vicinity, so everyone fish & the place doesn't become too overcrowded. I went there for the first time back from 2007. I was still in the learning process of flycasting (not like I ever finished learning) and playing in Stillwater. At 9700 feet above sea level, I had succumbed to altitude sickness and I didn't really enjoy the time there. However I did catch my first Brookie. I had to satisfy my crave for catching this beautiful creature and boogied on up to the Virginia Lakes.



On the way there, one could see dark clouds massing over the Sierras. I brought along my father-in-law who happened to be visiting from Germany. I was thinking it was going to rain for sure. He confided in me that it would not rain. He was right, it snowed. When we got there, the snow had not yet fallen and the sun was fighting through the clouds. We scouted the area and decided to play in Blue Lake. Blue Lake was about a 15 minute hike from the main area and there wasn't anyone fishing it. It was so peaceful and quiet, except for the sound of fishing splashing up to the surface of the lake. So we ran down to our campsite & grabbed our float tubes. Then we boogied back up to Blue Lake. The sun was still getting through and we felt we made the right decision. One hour into the fishing adventure, the white fluffy stuff started to fall down onto our heads. The winds had picked up and The fish activity had ceased as well. I was feeling that this adventure had come to an end and it was a good time to start up the campfire.


As I was kicking for the shore, BANG!!! Tight lines!!! I was able to hold on to the fish & lo behold, it was a Brookie. Ok it was only an 8-10 inch brookie, but it was brookie nonetheless. I was stoked. Cold, but stoke. I tried to endure a few more minutes, to see if there were any of the fish's brother and sisters still in the area. No Go!!! I could not take the cold any longer & headed back to the campground.



It took me the rest of the night to shake off the cold that was deep in my bones. However when I awoke the next day, the sun was shining brightly and there was no one on Turnbull Lake. My father-in-law & I took this as a sign from the Fly Fishing Gods to take action. I fished Turnbull Lake for 5 hours in the middle of the day. I was only able to catch one more brookie, but my father-in-law witness the event. It was his first time seeing a brookie.

"Jason, Jason, ein rote forelle" Ok, he was calling a Red Trout, but he didn't know.

Still it was a lively brookie. I was able to bring the brookie in my float tube, hold it up and it made the leap for life. I was just happy to entertain father-in-law. I was able to catch 4 nice size Rainbows and I did take them home to Moma for the table that evening. I usually don't take fish home, but I wanted the Brookies to have less competition. Tight Lines my friends!!!