Fishing the Golden Trout Wilderness and more

17-24 May

Bud Hennessy and I have been making annual week-long trout fishing trips in America for about 15 years. One of our favorite spots is the Golden Trout Wilderness in the Sierra Nevada mountains in California. The golden trout is native to and found only in these mountains.

This beautiful yet well camouflaged trout is not to be confused with the albino trout found in eastern stocked streams that many folks call golden trout by mistake.

In the past, exploitation, mismanagement and competition with other introduced trout species brought golden trout to the brink of being designated as "threatened." Since 1978, the California Department of Fisheries has actively managed the area by removing all trout species except the golden trout from creeks in the wilderness and building dams that prevent other trout species from migrating upstream into the wilderness.

Getting into the wilderness is quite an ordeal. One method is by horseback and pack mules, which Carol and I did back in 1988. Bud and I now prefer to take his four-wheeled Toyota into Monache Meadows...

Rockin' and Rollin'

Trying to get past a sheer rock slide.

 and then hike on foot the mile or two into the wilderness. We made camp in the meadows and stayed there four nights.

The sun has risen, the frost is gone, and Bud's making breakfast.

The elevation there was around 8,200 feet and while there was no snow, the nights were very cold (in the mid-twenties) and frost was on our tent and all our seating and cooking equipment each morning. The air is thin at this elevation and our breathing became labored even on the smallest exertion including trying to roll from one side to the other in a sleeping bag (while fully clothed). I can honestly say that I had several nights of near shivering while fully clothed and inside an alpine-rated sleeping bag. By the way, we were completely out of touch. No cell phone service and the nearest phone was 2.5 hour drive. I did bring our first aid kit and defribrillator. Bud said he was comforted knowing that I was an RN and Paramedic, but I'm not sure those skills are of much use without medical gear.

All of this we gladly tolerated because the fishing was great and the days were bathed in warm sunshine. We always started our morning with hot coffee and hot oatmeal. We packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and lots of fruits and water for lunch and headed to the stream. When we returned to camp bushed at days end, we had wine, guacamole dip and salsa, and watched the birds. Then we cooked a hot dinner and ate a big salad. After bathing with baby wipes we hit the sack while the temperature was above freezing and tried to stay in our sleeping bags until the morning sun melted the frost.

After four nights, we packed our gear and headed back out of the wilderness. We stopped about halfway down the mountain and had a breakfast burrito and coffee. After that relaxing breakfast, we continued down the mountain and headed toward Bishop, CA where we again geared up to fish the Lower Owens River. This river is one of the major water supplies for Los Angeles. It is dammed upstream and after flowing cold through a large meadow near Bishop, it disappears into underground tunnels headed to Los Angeles. The water was very high and fast requiring lots of splitshots to get our imitation nymphs down to where the brown trout hang out.

That's me about to pass through a cattle gate. The Owens is running along the tree line behind me. Note the snow in the mountains behind me. Some are around 12,000 feet above sea level.

After an afternoon of not-so-productive fishing, we headed back to Bishop where we found motel rooms going for the outrageous price of $199 per night. What's going on? we asked. "Mule Days" was the reply. Apparently everyone for miles around bring their mules, wagons and other equipment to town for parades and competitions. Might be fun, but not when your goal is to catch trout.
So we leave Bishop to the mule drivers and head north up the mountain to Mammoth Lakes where we eventually find a room for $50 per night that is clean, has a bath tub with hot water, and a warm bed. Mammoth is a great ski area that we have skied in the past. Now there is no snow on the ground, but we can clearly see snow in the mountains.

Mammoth Lakes is beautiful. The elevation of the town is about 8,000 feet. The snow-covered mountains in the background give you some idea of the height of those mountains.

We're warned when we check in to leave no food in our vehicle to prevent it from being ravaged by bears looking for food. After a bath, we head out for dinner. I call Carol to let her know I survived and hear her sweet voice.

In the morning we have breakfast at a nice friendly restaurant called "The Stove". Then we head off to check out the McGee Creek where we've never fished before. It's a pretty drive toward the snow covered mountains. Unfortunately, the creek is running high and fast due to the melting snow. We head back down and follow the creek to its entry into Crowley Lake. We see lots of trout in a few deep pools, but decide to not fish the stream because the water is too high and wading would be dangerous. 

McGee Creek is just ahead on the right. The snow you see up ahead in the saddle is feeding this creek.

Bud tells me about how beautiful the nearby Convict Lake is so we decide to drive up to see it before heading to our next fishing designation. Convict Lake is stunningly beautiful. It has a deep blue color which reflects the clear blue sunny sky and the surrounding snow covered mountains.

Convict Lake filled with crystal clear water.

The site is worth the entire fishing trip. Click here for a panorama view of the lake. According to Wikipedia, "The lake was named after an incident on September 23, 1871, where a group of convicts escaped from prison in Carson City. A posse, from Benton, led by Deputy Sheriff George Hightower, encountered the convicts near the head of what is now Convict Creek. Posse member Robert Morrison, a Benton merchant and Wells Fargo Agent, was killed in the encounter, and Mount Morrison was named after him." A 1951 film "The Secret of Convict Lake" was largely based on the events that occurred at the lake in 1871.

We head off toward Hot Creek, one of the top 100 trout streams in America. This creek gets its name because there are several active faults giving rise to boiling water and sulfurous gases. All the minerals in the water create an abundance of aquatic insect life which in turn grows big brown trout that are hard to catch. The stream flows through a deep canyon which we must climb down (and back up after we're tired at the end of the day's fishing). We note a guide working with a husband and wife team,

The Hot Creek gorge is about 400 feet deep at this point. Note the size of the guide and his client, I have a blowup of them in the cutout. I got two browns in the section hidden by the trees in this photo.

so as we head down into the canyon we stop and watch them and note they are not catching any fish. We also note there are other fishermen on the stream as we find a spot away from both parties. I look around and find lots of black caddis crawling around the rocks. I also note the swallow dive-bombing the river and picking up flying insects both on and above the water that I can see. I tie on a black caddis imitation and carefully debarb the hook so I can easily remove the hook from the fish without hurting it if I should be so lucky as to catch a nice brown trout.

Bud and I fish together for awhile. After about 10 minutes I catch a brown about 8 inches long. He fights hard, but I had hoped for something larger. I easily release him while still in the water and hope he will grow to a foot or two by the next time I fish this creek. I lay back, reach into my pocket for an orange, and eat it to celebrate my first catch of the day and to let things settle down in the creek while I watch Bud fishing.

After about 15 minutes, Bud decides to go downstream to fish which requires him to go over a 25-30 foot stone ledge. I start fishing again and this time let my line slip down further into the area where Bud had been fishing. As I make the caddis dance on the water surface 20 feet below me, I see a large fish come up and grab my fly. I set the hook and the fight is on. I call to Bud as the trout heads upstream. After a few minutes I land the trout in my net and Bud yells to hold it so he can get a picture. But I had let my line go slack and had my net in the water so away ran my hard-fighting 12 to 13 inch trout. It would be the last trout I caught that day and that trip.

Bud and I head back up the canyon and agreed as we always do that fishing for trout is mostly about the scenery. The fishing and the scenery is the cake; If you catch a trout or two, it's like the icing on the cake. We have a great relaxing drive back to the motel. Next morning we pack up, have breakfast again at "The Stove" and head home to Bud's house in Escondido.

Carol's Friday

It was great to have Jack back in the fold! Sounds like they had an exciting time, but I'm sort of glad to miss the shivering cold nights in the tent. (I love the RoadTrek, with its propane furnace and thermostat!)

My recent days have been pretty much more of the same: hang out with Cindy and Tom when they're around, take beach walks, work on my book, and take my Spanish classes. My last class was today. I do feel like I made a lot of progress with my Spanish vocabulary and grammar, but I still need a LOT more practicing with comprehension and speaking. My pronunciation has improved. Here's a photo of my instructor, Anamaria. She was great: a wonderful personality and very knowledgeable.

Carol's Spanish instructor, Anamaria.