THE GOOD OLD DAYS

Thanks for allowing David James Duncan’s fine piece on Pyramid Lake to see the light of day (“Trout Fishing in the Lake of the Stone Mother,” Oct. 17).

I’m reminded of a tradition that until recently was held at the crack of dawn on New Year’s Day on the shores of Pyramid Lake: the winter fly fishing tournament for lake trout. A caravan of hearty folk would motor down to Sparks for a New Year’s Eve dinner and fun, party away the night, then make the 30-minute run to the lake shore.

Arriving at 5:30 a.m, they’d proceed to thrash the windy waves with No. 10 lines and gear, using the never-fail Woolly Worm. This hairy fly built up a coating of ice upon repeated casts and became a golf ball-sized missile on the end of a barely controllable line. These flying ice bombs whizzing back and forth were hazardous not only to spectators--usually wives hopping from foot to foot in the cold--but also to the casters, who frequently battered themselves.

The torture would end when two fish were caught so that the prizes for the first and the largest catches could be awarded, photos could be taken for the club scrapbook and liquid prizes could be awarded.

Those were the good old days.

JOSEPH S. RYCHETNIK, Palm Springs