Rainbows in the Lake

In Idaho's panhandle, 50 miles south of the Canadian border, lies Lake Pend Oreille (rhymes with yonder bay), shaped like a question mark. Three mountain ranges cradle the lake, 2,500 feet deep in places and a shade of blue to match. Everyone agreed that it was pleasant to look at, but no one got very much excited about the fishing there until two years ago. Then a local meat-market owner got the strike of his life: his reel screamed and he thought his line would snap. From Pend Oreille's cool water, after a few minutes of battle, he pulled a giant 31-lb. Kamloops trout.

A few weeks later, another fisherman hauled in a 32 1/2-pounder, then a world's record for Kamloops (now it's a 36-pounder). Then the rush began. Anglers converged on Pend Oreille, equipped with deep-sea tackle and high hopes. When the Kamloops bit, they bit hard. One man, rowing along the shore one morning with his rod draped over the stern, suddenly saw the rod fly up as if alive. He dropped his oars and dived for it, splitting his chin open on the boat's gunwale. The fish got away, taking rod & reel with it.

At Pend Oreille, as at many of the most-fished U.S. lakes and streams, man has improved upon nature. Some years ago, local sportsmen bought 100,000 fish eggs from Kootenay Lake in British Columbia to plant in the lake. The first batch died and the townspeople of Sandpoint, Idaho were skeptical. But in 1941 the sportsmen tried another 100,000; these hatched successfully, were planted in the lake as fingerlings. Pend Oreille's deep water and an abundance of blueback salmon to feed on seemed to be just what the Kamloops (local name for the over-sized rainbow trout) needed. Some grew 15 lbs. in one year.

This year the fame of Pend Oreille's Kamloops has attracted fishermen from hundreds of miles away. Some have gone home with empty creels, for the Kamloops are as temperamental biters as any trout. But by last week more than 200 fierce, square-tailed Kamloops, averaging 22 lbs., had been hauled out of Pend Oreille, including a 28-pounder (see cut) reeled in by a 13-year-old Idaho boy, Pat Kauffman.

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