Countdown To The Trout Opener: Memories Of Friends, Family And Fish

We’re counting down to Saturday’s statewide trout opener with stories from our April issue. Today: One day away from Fishmas, an angler recalls trout memories.

By Tim E. Hovey

I admit that, despite catching my first trout at the age of about 9, I came to the trout game late in life. I was so focused on saltwater fishing, I essentially ignored the freshwater opportunities for trout. I had caught a handful of stockers as a young adult, but it wasn’t until my college days that I started to focus on freshwater fishing.

COLLEGE GETAWAY TO EASTERN SIERRA

My good friend Rich Rosen planned a Mammoth trip to celebrate our first completed college year in 1990. We headed to the Eastern Sierra late on a Friday and set up camp in the dark. The next morning, following Rich’s lead, we fished a creek near our campsite. It was during this morning session that I caught my first brown trout.

Later that same day we spent the afternoon fishing one of the many local lakes, casting Kastmasters from the shore and catching our limits of large trout. It remains a great memory for me – fishing with a good friend.

The following day we packed up camp and headed out, stopping off at Crowley Lake for a few casts. On the third cast from the shore, I hooked into a beautiful silver trout, which put an amazing exclamation on the trip. We continued this end-of-the- college-year trout fishing tradition for a couple more years before the responsibilities of life pulled us in different directions.

FINDING NEW TROUT HOLES

For the next several years, I worked exclusively in the marine field before landing an inland fisheries job with the state. This put me in the back hills and mountain streams quite a bit. If I knew I was going to be surveying perennial waters, I always packed a breakdown fishing rod and a small pack of terminal tackle.

As I mapped some of the drainages, I gradually accumulated a short list of streams that held wild trout. I would head out early for the survey and then spend a few hours rockhopping my way back downstream and fishing the larger pools. Using everything from small spinners to worms, I’d catch and release small, colorful trout. Honestly, when I had to conduct surveys in these stream areas, I always looked forward to catching these wild trout.

HOT SPOTS IN THE HIGH SIERRA

Relocating to the north for work, I began to hunt more than fish. However, when I started hunting with my good friend Ed Davis, he made it clear that I needed to bring my fishing gear during some of our desert outings. While our main focus was always calling predators, some of Ed’s spots put us close to trout waters. And so, another tradition was born.

During certain trips, we’d load up rifles and hunting gear but also add spinning and fly fishing gear. During the summertime, we’d head out early and call predators in the morning, then drive the high switchbacks to Horseshoe Meadows to fly fish for golden trout. When it comes to my limited experience, fishing for trout on fly gear in the high-elevation creeks and streams is where I cut my teeth.

Using tiny flies and a 40-year-old fly fishing rod given to me by my dad, we’d hike the narrow stream and make short casts to the pools. During my first trip with Ed, I caught one of the prettiest trout I had ever hooked, an 11-inch golden trout that took a Parachute Adams fly and fought for all it was worth in the confines of the narrow creek.

As soon as I figured out how to make precise casts with the heavy line, I couldn’t get enough. Across the half a dozen times we fished the meadows, Ed knew the only thing pulling us from the fishing grounds was darkness. Fly fishing the high- mountain creeks for golden trout with Ed remains one of my fondest angler memories.

KID STUFF, BUDDY’S ’BOWS, BROWNS

As my daughters got older, we’d plan annual trips to the high Sierra to camp and fish with friends. We picked Rock Creek Lake as our chosen destination, and that’s where I taught my girls how to catch rainbows from a boulder we christened Hovey Rock. We fished from that boulder year after year.

Rock Creek Lake is also where my daughters sharpened their fishing skills and developed an interest in the outdoors. These are some of my most cherished memories with my daughters.

A few years before I relocated to Idaho, I made a road trip to Wyoming to visit my good friend Darrin Bergen and hunt antelope. While we were coordinating logistics, Darrin strongly suggested I pack a couple of fishing rods in case we filled our tags early. He stated that the trout fishing in the nearby Shoshone River was currently on fire. I thought, “Don’t threaten me with a good time!”

After driving literally all day and traveling through five states, I arrived in Cody, Wyoming, in the evening the day before the antelope opener. As Darrin predicted, we were eating pizza and drinking beers by noon the following day after having filled both our tags by late morning. After meat processing, we grabbed our fishing rods and made the short drive to the Shoshone River. Over the next few days, I experienced some of the best trout fishing of my life along the banks of that beautiful river.

Darrin, playing the role as guide, had scouted out the area and the subtle fishing technique before I got there. Using a modified rig with a river-friendly weight, some colorful beads and a barbless bait hook, we tipped the terminal tackle with a piece of corn and a short section of nightcrawler. If I had a thousand guesses, I never would’ve figured out this subtle offering.

We’d cast upstream, let the rig bounce off the bottom and watch the line for any indication of a bite. On the first cast, a healthy brown grabbed the hook and was on the stringer a short time later. We spent a few hours catching browns, cutthroat and rainbows, saving a few fish for a wild surf-and-turf feast back at Darrin’s place later that evening.

With still a full day in Wyoming planned, we again headed back to the Shoshone. Once again, the beautiful river did not disappoint. We were treated to just about nonstop action on 18- to 24-inch trout of varied species. While I was excited that I had killedaniceantelopeearlierinthe trip,Ithinkmoreabouttheamazing trout fishing we experienced in the following days. For me, it was a trip of a lifetime.

NEW HOME, NEW FISH

In 2020, I relocated my entire family to the southern portion of Idaho. Early on, I spent time investigating both the hunting and fishing opportunities in my new state. For the first year or so, my wife Cheryl and I enjoyed fishing for planted trout in some amazing areas. While we enjoyed visiting them to fish, I knew Idaho was home to many lakes and streams where wild trout swam. I was obsessed with finding these spots.

In 2021, my college friend Rich made a trip out to Idaho so we could head out on a trout fishing extravaganza. I told him I wanted to look for places I hadn’t fished yet. We headed out early and hit several spots before arriving at the Salmon River near Stanley, Idaho. This is where we found trout fishing paradise.

Using a small black and yellow Meppsspinner,wecaughtdozensof trouteach.Infact,webothhooked up on our first cast. We spent that afternoon catching and releasing all we caught and just enjoying the beauty of wild Idaho.

At that time, Rich mentioned that he was dealing with some health issues and that it might be a while before he got back out for a visit. Those health issues turned into a two- and-half-year struggle with multiple myeloma. I was just happy Rich was able to get in a really good trout trip before hospitals and treatments took over his life.

MEMORIES OF FALLEN FRIENDS

Trout fishing has been a far larger interest for me later in life. I always enjoy exploring new areas and fishing for different species. My many trips have also been about spending time with good friends and my own family. And as life moves forward and things change, that kinship chasing trout becomes even more important than the hookups. Whether we know it or not, sometimes those memories may be our last.

Darrin passed away unexpectedly less than a year after sharing that Shoshone River trout trip with me. And Rich, having beaten cancer into remission and planning a return trip to Idaho, passed on, also unexpectedly, on Christmas Day 2025 after undergoing hip replacement surgery.

I miss them both dearly but will always smile knowing that I shared some amazing fishing with both friends. For me, that matters. CS