Time: 9:00AM – 10:00AM, 11:00AM – 12:00PM, 8:00PM – 9:00PM

Location: Steamboat Lake State Park

Steamboat Lake 06/08/2021 Photo Album

I was feeling smug after several high fish count days on front range lakes. In these instances I was catching stocked rainbow trout relatively consistently. My day of 06/08/2021 on Steamboat Lake brought me back to reality. Catching trout from Steamboat Lake consistently remains an elusive goal for this veteran fly fisherman.

I presented Jane with an inflatable kayak for Christmas, and she was quite anxious to try it out for the first time. We both love the camping experience at Steamboat Lake State Park, and we were able to find campsite availability for two nights, June 7 and 8, so we reserved campsite number 62 in the Harebell Loop. We normally plant our tent on Bridge Island Loop, but we decided to deviate from our previous practice. As it turned out, we were quite pleased with our choice, as our site offered a spectacular view of Hahn’s Peak, and the north side of our campsite bordered an aspen grove and natural woods.

Originally Tuesday was my day to make the drive to fish the Yampa River; however, we modified that plan, so I could be present to help Jane inflate her kayak, and more importantly be available to pack it up and transport it to the campsite after her maiden voyage. In exchange we agreed that I could fish the Yampa on Wednesday on our return trip to Denver. This made obvious sense, since our return route passed through Steamboat Springs, and that was where I planned to fish.

Poised for Fun

On Tuesday morning after I helped Jane inflate the kayak, assemble her three part paddle and launch from the swim beach; I jumped in the car and made a ten minute drive to Sage Flats. I read on several websites that the best shore fishing could be obtained via a ten minute walk across the dam from the Sage Flats parking lot. When I arrived, two other vehicles were present, and I noticed a gate across the road that seemed to lead to the dam. I prepared to fish with my Sage One five weight to combat the wind in the wide open area lacking in trees or windbreaks of any sort. When I was properly geared up, I ambled to the gate, but barbed wire extended to the lake, and the gate was locked. Clearly the park rangers did not want anyone passing beyond this point, so I reversed my direction and hiked along the Willow Trail for eight minutes and then dropped down to a small inlet and waded into a position on the northeast side of the arm in that area.

Pretty Place

The first twenty yards were rather shallow, and of course my entry was the cue for the wind to kick up. I began fishing a hippie stomper with a salvation nymph dropper, but after fifteen minutes of throwing casts parallel to the shoreline and then watching the surface fly bob in the small waves, I recognized the futility of my endeavor. I decided to move to a section that I passed, where some high banks suggested a steeper decline and deeper water. Three minutes after making my move, I was positioned on the shoreline, and I switched tactics to a sparkle minnow streamer trailing a wiggle damsel. I sprayed casts in this area and several more farther south, but my only result was the loss of the valued sparkle minnow and the damsel nymph. I experimented with various stripping speeds and movements and counted down to different depths, but the wind continued to blast the surface of the water, and the fish, if they were in the area, ignored my best efforts.

Macro View

After an hour of fruitless casting I stripped in my line, bowed my head against the wind and wandered back to the parking lot with my confidence at a low ebb. I returned to the swim beach twenty minutes early and discovered Jane waiting next to her kayak. She reported an enjoyable maiden voyage; however, she could only last an hour before paddling into the wind brought extreme fatigue to her arms and shoulders. I provided a minor amount of help, as we deflated and folded up the kayak, and then we returned to number 62 on the Harebell Loop for lunch.

Second Session Was Here

It was eleven o’clock when we arrived, so I decided to explore the cove and inlet, where a small stream enters Steamboat Lake from the north. I parked at a lot on the closest camping loop and hiked along the Willow Creek Trail, before I cut down a gradual grassy bank to the shoreline. I waded across a small shallow cove, and this positioned me to fire casts across the mouth of the small bay where the creek entered. I worked my way back toward the mouth of the creek with no response to my wooly bugger, and then I made a strategic mistake and began progressing up the stream. Since it was early June, the creek was swollen with higher than normal flows, although it seemed nearly ideal at the time. I suspect that later in the season it shrivels to a trickle; and, thus, is not a viable fishery. I realized this after fifteen minutes of fishing, and it was easier to finish the commitment to reach the Willow Creek Trail rather than turn around and wade across the lake again. I never saw a fish during my entire time on the small creek.

I returned to the campsite and after a short rest convinced Jane to drive to Pearl Lake State Park. I reasoned that perhaps a smaller body of water would be less susceptible to wind, and a more intimate lake might make spotting fish an easier proposition. Another post documents my visit to Pearl Lake.

After dinner I once again persuaded Jane to join me in a final fishing venture on Tuesday, June 8. We drove to Meadow Point, a section of land that juts between two long narrow coves. During previous visits to Steamboat Lake I fished in this area, and it usually came alive with rising fish in the hour before dark. Jane and I sat on a bench and observed for thirty minutes, before I extracted my fishing gear from the car. I spotted no rises during this time, and the wind remained a significant nemesis. Finally at 7:30PM I assembled my Sage One once again, and I ambled down a short path to the shoreline of the finger of water that extended from the main lake. I once again tied on a hippie stomper and trailed a size 18 deer hair caddis, and I began to blind cast. Once again my effort seemed rather futile, but after a few minutes an occasional rise gave me a glimmer of hope.

Cove Next to Meadow Point

For the next hour I fired long casts to the vicinity of sporadic rises, but the trout were once again ignoring my offerings. I tried short strips and stops, but none of my tactics produced results. The sun dropped behind a western peak, and the temperature dropped, and the frequency of rises picked up. I exchanged the caddis dry fly for a size 22 CDC blue winged olive. I caught one of the abundant quantities of midges buzzing about my head, and it possessed an olive body with clear wings, so I reasoned that the tiny BWO could pinch hit.

I now began to drop casts in the vicinity of recent rises, but interest was nonexistent, until finally a bulge appeared behind the hippie stomper. I quickly lifted my rod and felt a momentary sensation of additional weight, but then the fish shed the size 22 fly, and I was left to vent my frustration to the croaking frogs and gobbling sand hill cranes. Four hours of lake fishing, and my reward was a split second hook up. Lake fishing education is an ongoing project.

Fish Landed: 0