Well I made the trip to Wickiup again for some of those steroidal acrobats. Arrived Monday a week before the holiday and set up camp. Fishing was slow as many have previously mentioned in other threads.
By thursday when it was just me by my lonesome I was able to start exploring and such with the pressure of getting others into fish well behind me. The flats south of the Davis arm produced a bit with the multiple rods of the company filled previous days, but not like I know it should have. While fishing those flats I noticed some depressions or trenches other than the main channels. At first they were just quick shallow-deep-shallow excursions until I actually changed direction in them. More importantly I actually started marking fish in them too. With the aid of my gps I was able to map a few of them by hanging the edge and moving from 23-15 feet. Most fish marked were at the 19-22 foot level and they were not opposed to hitting a green wr tipped with worm and corn flatlined on the surface. The lights grew bright.
The next few days were spent being up early fishing with the masses fishing in a north/south while I was patiently against the grain following the trenches east/west. The morning blow made things somewhat challenging at times with the bigger boats being blown about. By 9am the wind died to a breeze and the bugs came out. By 10am most had left the water as the clouds, and I do mean clouds, of bugs (chironomids of all sizes) litterally infested anything afloat. NOTE: do not underestimate my use of the term CLOUD. they would absolutely cover entire sections of your boat to where you could not see the sides, chairs, etc. Never would you make 2 passes without getting bit (fish not bugs.. chironomids look kinda like skeeters but don't bite), sometimes multiple times per pass. If you could tough out the bugs the fish were there for you.
Amid the kokes caught were a 20" rainbow and an 18" brown. Each fish was healthy and spectacular. It was great to break with tradition and listen to what the lake and fish were telling me. A hard head would have made for a fruitless trip.
Such was life in the trenches.
Sorry no glory shots.