Fishing Lower Lake in Promised Land State Park

On Friday, June 25, 2021, we finally got to take our kayaks out to try our luck for the trout in Lower Lake at Promised Land State Park.

We got up as early as our old bones would allow (probably around 5:30 am or so), ate a quick breakfast, walked Ruby the Kitten, and drove over to a boat ramp we had scouted on Lower Lake when we hiked Bear Wallow Trail the day before.  The day was cool and clear and we put into the still water with great anticipation:

David kept getting distracted by photo opportunities presented by the ubiquitous water lilies:

Lower Lake is something like a contorted dumbbell.  We put into the easternmost, shallow end of the dumbbell (too shallow for trout -- perhaps good water for bass), then paddled across it and down the center channel into the western, deeper end of the dumbbell.  A beaver lodge quickly presented itself:

Kathy didn't waste anytime finding the shady, leeward bank of the lake to stalk her trout:

We both worked our way down toward the dam, which -- we were told -- has the deepest water of the lake.  We understand that this section of the lake is up to 60 feet deep and is home to some very large trout.  We wanted trophies.

But, then, David kept getting distracted by water lily bulbs:

But don't underestimate David.  He struck twice, and caught two smallbouth bass, probably 8 inches or so apiece, which he released.  Perhaps they struck at the trout fly to defend their territory, but they were not the rainbow trout we were seeking.  Still, they were pretty little creatures.  David wished them well and set them free:

We returned to our boat ramp empty-handed a little before noon and headed home for lunch.  At least we were rewarded with picturesque views of the boats lined up near the boat ramp:

We were not deterred.  That evening, we tried again.  This time, we drove a longer route, straight to the deep end of the lake and put in at the boat ramp near the campground there:

Kathy was inspired -- and, truthfully, partly motivated by David's two catches of that morning, as well as a desire to eat some smoked trout.  She worked the lake with alacrity:

We fished on into the evening, to the point where sunset was starting to whisper to us:

We both tried white dry flies to imitate the hatches we had seen.  Our flies didn't exactly sit up on the water the way they were supposed to, but we figured they looked enough like dead mayflies lying on their side that they might attract some trouty attention:

It was after 8 pm and we still hadn't caught any trout.  Sunset was extending its rosy fingers further across the lake:

Finally, just as we were getting ready to leave the lake, luck struck Kathy's fly and she hauled in a 10 inch trout that would be enough for dinner the next night.  He was a beautiful rainbow trout.  Kathy barely got him cleaned before the sun went down.

We hastily packed our gear and put the kayaks back up on the Jeep, drove back to our campground, and arrived after dark at about 9:30 pm -- the latest we've ever been out.  But we had a trout in hand!

The next day, that little fish got smoked and pan friend and tasted wonderful.  Well worth a full day of fishing!