California Gold
I first held a fishing rod when I was 3. I first held a fly rod when I was 53. And from the time I was 13 years old and first fished the Sierras, I dreamt of not only catching a golden trout, but landing that magnificent creature with the grace and art of the fly. 40+ years later my dream came true.
I had the privilege of backpacking into the Golden Trout Wilderness this past week, where I spent 4 days (far too short) fishing the headwaters of some of the most beautiful creeks this world has to offer. I was as goofy as an 8-year-old boy, and danced, and cried, and basked in the glory of some of the most spectacular land on this earth. This was a milestone for me, and something I feel privileged to share.
My journey began out of dumb luck. After communicating with guide Dave Neal (out of Mammoth) and talking to the Inyo National Forest rangers, I found that none of the places Dave recommended (and that I wanted to visit) had wilderness permits available (not Dave's fault, just my procrastination). So, looking at which areas had the highest quotas available, what do I stumble upon, but Cottonwood Pass. I do a little more looking and it slowly dawns on me that this is not only golden trout territory, but heritage water as well. (I really want to complete the CA Heritage Trout Challenge.) I quickly booked a permit and started packing.
Just as an aside, I'm kind of a nut about lightweight gear. My total pack weight, with bear canister (2 pounds empty!), was only 22 pounds--including on-board water and camera. I can do a 10 day trip with a total weight of 27 pounds. I'm still working on setting myself up to do a 4 day trip and get the pack weight down to 19.
I made the drive down to Lone Pine on Sunday and was not encouraged by the weather that was circling over Mt. Whitney. Nevertheless, I picked up my permit and headed up Horseshoe Meadows Road to the trailhead. I had planned to camp at the walk-in campground in order to get an early start on Monday. With hail, rain, thunder, and lightning all around, I decided I didn't want to start my week with wet gear, so I made the drive back down to Lone Pine and found a motel room.
The hike on Monday began out of Horseshoe Meadows (9,700 ft) toward Cottonwood Pass. Once I was up and over Cottonwood I caught my first glimpse of Big Whitney Meadows. I knew that it was here that I would find the headwaters of Golden Trout Creek (aka Volcano Creek):
After setting up camp, I nervously dropped a fly in the waters of Golden Trout Creek. First cast, a strike. Second cast, fish on. My first golden! And, hot dog! Scored my first fish for the CA Heritage Trout Challenge.
I continued to fish and quickly realized I was in golden trout heaven. I had heard phrases like, "catch goldens by the hundreds," and blew them off as fishing lies, uh, er, um, I mean fishing dreams. But, guess what? You can. I kept catching fish and was absolutely blown away by their colors:
Next day, I headed out of Big Whitney Meadows, through Tunnel Meadows, and eventually to Little Whitney Meadows, where I set up camp and began fishing. More non-stop goldens.
I knew Wednesday was going to be a big day. Had to hike out of Little Whitney Meadows at around 8,400 ft and make a 12-mile jaunt to the upper reaches of Mulkey Meadows at around 9,400 ft. I'd have to say the hardest part of my entire trip was dealing with incredibly sandy trails--a lot of which were on this day. I don't mean sandy dirt, I mean exactly like walking on the beach. The trails are heavily used by cattle, mule trains, horse pack outfitters, and backpackers, and all the use has pulverized the gravel.
I had read in Ralph Cutter's "Sierra Trout Guide," that the South Fork of the Kern had been infiltrated with rainbows that have altered the coloration of the goldens, and that the most pure of the goldens would be found in the South Fork Headwaters near Mulkey Creek. Look at the color of this one out of Mulkey (note the gold specks):
BTW, this was my first experience with a fly being grabbed in mid-air. Because parts of this creek were so small, all I could do was sneak up, slowly lower my line to the water and wait for the tug. However, because the winds were kicking up, I was attempting to lower the fly to the water without it getting blown into the weeds. Before it even touched the water, one of these goldens came leaping out and grabbed the fly in mid air! Talk about the ultimate dry fly--it never even needs to hit the water. At first, I thought I had imagined it, so I tried it again, and bam. Fish on! The fly never touched the water. Anybody else ever had that experience?
My evening at Mulkey ended with a double rainbow covering the entire meadow. A fitting end to my first journey into golden territory, and the last evening I would be able to fish.
Thursday, I made the hike up Trail Pass, and on the backside was once again returning to Horseshoe Meadows where, though I started only 3 days earlier, it felt like a lifetime.
The memories of fishing creeks like this will be with me forever:
Quick summary: I'd do it again in a heartbeat, and I'm kicking myself for not having more time to get down to the Kern to get a rainbow, as well as Templeton Meadows to try and heft one of those bigger browns. I plan on returning later this year. In total, it added up to 790 miles of driving, 34 miles of hiking, no bear encounters, only 4 people encounters (unbelievable), and one ecstactic little boy.
John
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