I hopped behind the oars to paddle out amongst the tree graveyard, while Mark sat in front with a dry fly on, looking for gulpers.
“Over there, Mark!” I said quickly, pointing off to his left. There was a rising fish that had left a sizable ring of water as it ate, indicating that it may have been a big fish.
“I see it.” Mark confirmed, and the fish rose again.
“Get it, Mark, get it!” I said happily, and Mark started casting, casting, and then casting some more.
“Lay it down, Mark!” I said.
“Okay, but where did the fish go?”
“It’s gone by now.” I said, “You really have to be quick.”
“Well maybe I should see how you do it.” Mark said, and we switched spots.
“I like this gulper fishing. It’s like we are hunting for the rising fish.” Mark said, as we started on our way back to the boat ramp.
“I knew you would, and Quake Lake is gorgeous.”
“Yes it is.” Mark replied, but it was time to get going.
“I would definitley come back and fish here again. I’m glad you brought me out here.” Mark said, as we started driving away from the lake.
“Well, it was here or Hebgen lake, and judging how slow it was this morning only means it was great on Hebgen.” I said.
“Well, we will need to hit that next time.”
“Until next time!” I said, holding up my water bottle. Mark raised his and tipped the rim as solute to our return; hopefully sooner than later.