Fishing Henrys Lake – A Type 2 Adventure

I had the privilege of being invited once again to join a close-knit group of seven friends for a late-season fishing escapade to Henrys Lake, nestled in the remote northeastern corner of Idaho, right on the Montana/Wyoming border and just a stone's throw away from Yellowstone. This lake, serves as the source of the legendary Henry Fork of the Snake River, and offers a chance to chase a trio of trout: rainbow, brook, and the formidable hybrid cutbow trout—some of them truly massive.

Henrys Lake, measuring approximately 8 square miles, stretches out 4 miles in length and spans 2 miles in width. At an elevation of 6,472 feet above sea level, this is high-altitude alpine fishing—a fact I had momentarily forgotten since our last adventure in 2022.

The fishing was nothing short of spectacular. However, the weather was less cooperative, with intermittent rain, gusty winds reaching up to 41 mph, and temperatures ranging from a chilly 33 to the more bearable mid-50s. Typically, you fish where you believe the fish are, but this trip, it often meant seeking refuge from the relentless wind, like hunkering down behind a point or in the sheltered lee of the shoreline. Sometimes, our hiding spots coincided with the fish's location; sometimes, not so much. I must confess that one afternoon, after enduring a morning of rain, relentless wind, and 40-degree temperatures, I pulled the plug and opted for an afternoon nap. Perhaps, after a lifetime of fishing, which includes braving the elements for winter steelhead, I've finally learned a thing or two about choosing comfort.

And when I say the fishing was exceptional, it truly was—an experience that felt like more than I deserved. I landed personal-best steelhead-class cutbows, measuring 22, 23, and an astounding 28 inches. I achieved the Henrys Lake Trifecta, consisting of rainbow, brook, and cutbow trout. Each of us reeled in fish, and the luckiest among us on the final day boasted impressive catches of 10 or more fish, with several "mondo" specimens exceeding the 24-inch mark. There were even larger fish that escaped.

But, as with all successful fishing trips, what could have become a Type 3 adventure was saved by the exceptional camaraderie of our group. My fellow anglers on this journey were not only generous with their flies and expertise but also unwavering in the face of challenging conditions. They made the trip all the more memorable.

So, here's to looking forward to 2024, with the hope of new adventures, better weather, bigger catches, and the companionship of friends that make these fishing trips truly special.

[1] The term Type 2 fun, dates back to 1985.  It was coined by University of Alaska geologist Dr. Rainer Newberry while on a field trip and is the middle ground between Type 1—plain fun, and Type 3—not fun at all. It's the sweet spot: wretched throughout, and a good time in retrospect. A paradox.