Outdoors | The importance of having a backup plan when trying a new fishing spot

He who drives, chooses where to fish. In this case, Ken chose to test our skills in a relatively unknown body of water located an hour-and-a-half north of the Tri-Cities.

“I want to try Beda Lake,” he e-mailed. “Heard it was once stocked with brown trout. If not, I will try to persuade WDFW to put bass in there. So, it’s a two-part strategy.”

Ted came back with, “I will pick up spudnuts. Please specify your preference or it’s artichoke-anchovy glaze sweet potato donuts with chia seed sprinkles.”

What could be better than eating donuts and fishing a new lake with good friends? Ken had informed the launch was 150 yards or so from where we would park, so I elected to bring my backpack float tube. Ken and Ted arrived with pontoon boats having wheels mounted to steel frames to enable a short haul, wheelbarrow style.

The narrow entrance to Beda Lake is shallow and lined with thorny Russian olive trees and tall cattail. I kicked up stinky mud while Ken and Ted blasted past on oars. Once arriving at the main body of the 45-acre lake, I monitored the angle of my fly line and hoped my Wooly Bugger swam where a brown trout might reside.

The overhead chortle of migrating sandhill cranes serenaded. To the west, snow blanketed the hills south of Wenatchee. Crystalline shucks from a recent midge hatch populated the water’s surface.

“Size 14,” Ken informed.

Time passes slowly when you drag a fly aimlessly in a body of water that you have never fished before. Need I mention this same lake had no recent record of stocking?

Do you cast at the edge of bulrush, work drop offs, or drag your fly in the deepest part of the lake? How long before you switch patterns or swap out fly line? I hoped my St. Croix Mojo trout fly rod would somehow live up to its surname.

My float tube twisted sideways in a brisk northwesterly breeze. A landing net hung off the side to work as an effective rudder. Next to it, a small orange gear bag flapped like a weathersock.

Two hours of mindless trolling later, I asked Ken if there were any trees where I could hang myself if I didn’t catch a fish. “None tall enough to not lead to maximum suffering,” he replied.

Ted paddled alongside to share that he had worked a deep side-channel where catching was once good.

“When was that?” I asked.

‘Two or three years ago.”

A pair of mostly brown-colored flycatchers fluttered to land on a stand of willow when we took a shoreline break. “They have a yellow throat and a white band on the tip of their tail,” I remarked to my companions, hoping for ornithological insight.

“You could hold them in your hand and still not know,” Ken replied.

Back at the truck, we loaded up our floating devices and perused the WDFW list of Eastside lakes. Some were open year-round, some had been open since March 1 st , and others would not open up until the fourth Saturday in April. Our challenge was to pare the list down to a close-by lake loaded with hungry trout.

“It’s been good for trout at Corral Lake,” a bearded clerk at the Mardon Resort informed us. “I’ve been sending everyone there. They’ve been doing real good on worms.”

We took a short drive to Corral Lake and pumped up our devices in a turn-around parking area littered with empty beer cans, plastic water bottles, and a pair of discarded “unmentionables.” Never had I been I so glad to see the rise of feeding trout! We launched and paddled down the lake to fish near a pair of bundled up anglers who had anchored up in a small rowboat to cast an assortment of spinners, PowerBait, and crawlers.

Would you believe that three dedicated fly casters ended their day ecstatic over a combined catch of four 6-inch yellow perch, three 9-inch hatchery trout, and two 5-inch smallmouth bass? Every fishing trip should end on such a high note.

Granted, Ken did not promise that we would catch a trophy-size brown trout; only that he was interested in trying for one. He deserves credit for coming up with a viable solution to our fish-catching desires before the day was over.

With over 20 Eastside lakes now open for fishing it should be no problem for local anglers to develop a backup plan of their own before they venture forth this spring.