May 29-June 3, 1996
M.R. Montgomery's book on native trout (Many Rivers To Cross, Simon and Schuster. 1995) crystalized in me a desire than had been building for several years: To seek out and fish for native trout -- not just for the fish, but because their habitat often represents some of the last wilderness in North America. 
My parents live in Trinidad, so southern Colorado was a good place to start. I began making inquiries and made contact with Randy Keys of the Cottonwood Meadows Flyshop in Antonito, CO. I arranged to be guided one day while I was in the area and my parents reserved a cabin in Mogote (where the flyshop is actually located).
Shortly after we had made our arrangements, Fly Fisherman Magazine published a nice article on fishing the Conejos River, and Randy's flyshop was mentioned. One additional factor that confirmed the desirability of southern Colorado is that while central and northern Colorado experienced high run-off during 1996, southern Colorado had a fairly light snowpack, and most streams and rivers were running clear in late May and early June.
Susan, Liam, and I arrived in Colorado and spent three days with my folks in Trinidad (6100 feet) getting acclimated, and then we all drove to Antonito and set up housekeeping in the cabin (7900 feet). We spent two days exploring the area, driving up into the high country and walking about. I checked in with Randy and purchased two dozen flys of his recommendation, and went to a nice stream around 10,000 feet where I practiced flipping a fly into willows. After I switched to short-line nymphing, and began using the willows for cover, I caught and released a brookie -- feisty, and about 10 inches. This experience showed me three things: (1) I was able to handle the altitude, since this foray involved a quarter mile walk and a 100 foot descent into a high meadow (and uphill return); (2) Wind and Willows are a given for the type of fishing I was after; and (3) While you can't do anything about the wind, you can at least make the willows your ally.
The next day, Randy picked me up at the cabin at 7AM and we began a 45 mile drive, only the first 15 of which were on paved roads. The main part of the drive was on Forest Route 250, along the Conejos River valley, and my guide pointed out the areas that people like to fish, as well as some local lore and wisdom. There are many inholdings within the San Juan National Forest, especially along the rivers. Some are open to fishing, and some are leased by the Rocky Mountain Angling Club for the exclusive use of its members. There is always fishing to be had, though, even if you don't want to walk a couple miles.
Our first destination was a meadow at about 10,700 feet through which ran an easy-access creek that originated in snowfields draping the Continental Divide. While initial access was easy, moving upstream proved dicey, as it entered a box canyon and we needed to do some rock scrambling. The local Trout Unlimited chapter has done a number of stream improvements here, and the habitat was excellent form cutthroats. I caught two cutthroat in the first hour, and lost a few more. 
These were similar in spotting pattern to the Rio Grande subspecies, with the spots more or less concentrated toward the tail, but I suspect they were hybrids, since there were a few too many spots toward the head. There were full of fight, beautiful, and wild -- all in all pretty much what I was looking for.
After I had taken a few pictures, including a couple of a nice cutthroat, I bent over and accidentally dipped the Nikon into the creek, and even though I immediately shook it out, enough water remained inside to mess up the electronics, not to mention the water droplets inside the lens. 
The waterproof recyclable camera that Randy brought turned out to be defective, so we were without photos for the remainder of the morning. At lunch, I removed the film, took off the lens and back, and placed all three on the dash of his car. After the shutter fired several times at random intervals, I shut off the switch, and hoped for the best while we went fishing in the afternoon.
Our afternoon destination was a tributary to the previous creek, and was separated from the rest of the watershed by a 20 foot waterfall. This was a perfect place to see wild cutthroats, since the browns, brookies and rainbows had no way to swim up from the Alamosa river (where the creeks of this area end up), even if they could get past a sterile zone resulting from an old iron mine.
How did the cutthroats get there? Possibly by stocking truck, or maybe even aerial stocking. In any case, they were wild, having been pretty much left alone for many years. We parked at a gate that closed off an old Forest Service road and took a long walk down an alpine meadow starting at 11,300 feet. The stream had cut down an additional 30 feet or so after a long sloping meadow, so we had to do some scrambling. Once we got into the stream, Randy suggested we switch to drys, and we spent the next couple hours catching cutthroats.
These trout differed from the previous ones -- they were of the Finespotted Snake River variety as their profuse fine spots indicated. They were still feisty and beautiful. They also seemed a little more wary than the fish in the previous stream, as there were a number of late refusals.
Randy is a member of the local TU chapter, and pointed out several of the stream improvement projects they have completed. In my other fishing forays, I noticed a number of other similar stream bed improvements. It seems this chapter is quite active in doing habitat improvement.
After a couple hours of working our way upstream, we saw two fishermen a couple hundred yards upstream working their way down,so we started the trek back to the car. We had just as steep and long a walk back to the road as we had on our descent, but once we reached the road (actually a Forest Service jeep trail, since closed to traffic) it was downhill to Randy's 4X4.
That was it for the day, as I was starting to feel my physical limit, and I didn't want to have any accidents, so we returned to the flyshop around 5pm, having managed to spend more time fishing than driving. I had the pleasure making Randy's acquaintance, caught some wild, native (or close to it) cutthroat, walked through some of the most striking areas the San Juans have to offer, and only saw two other fishermen all day -- and they weren't even close enough to identify.
On our return to the vehicle, the camera and lens were hotter than a firecracker, but when I reassembled it and loaded it with film, it appeared to work properly. Fortunately I was able to get some photos of the second and subsequent streams I visited, and they turned out as well as any photographs I have ever taken. I had a $7.96 recyclable camera with me during subsequent fishing forays, which yielded some decent scenic photos, but close-ups were disappointing since such cameras have fairly short-focus lenses (i.e. wide angle). I may try the waterproof version at some point, as they seem to have a longer lens. Several pictures I took with the recyclable camera were of sufficient quality that I made them into slides for a presentation to be given to our local TU chapter.
I spent some time over the next two days exploring places I wanted to fish. I was not able to spend a lot of time actually fishing, but I did get to wet my line a time or two. 
One of the areas, Rio de los Pinos, was a bit of a shock. This is designated for fly fishing only with catch-and-release regulations, but the valley is being graded and subdivided for homes (Cumbres Subdivision). The stream has been channelized on both sides of Colorado Route 17 for about 150 yards in each direction. It's sad when such abuse takes place, and raises serious questions as to whether regulations can take the place of sound habitat management. One can walk upstream, though, for a few hundred yards and find better water with riffles, pools, and pocket water. 
(I was told that the Colorado Division of Wildlife does not, as a matter of policy, distinguish between flys and artificial lures, but that landowners can open their land to the public with such restrictions. In this situation, and a similar situation on the Conejos River, the subdivision makes the rules, and the state posts appropriate signs).
Several other creeks in that area showed more promise, and you can even wave to the engineer and passengers of the Cumbres and Toltec narrow gauge railroad as the train goes by (approximately 10AM and 3PM in the Cumbres Pass area). I saw an angler fishing in a creek not more than 3 feet across, and he looked like he knew what he was doing. 
This area is a trout prospector's dream, if you are willing to walk a mile or two from the road.
My final fishing expedition was to North Lake on Colorado Route 12 about 40 miles west of Trinidad. I had visited this lake a few years ago, and my casting skills were not equal to the wind I experienced then. This time, though, I was able to get the line out 30 or more feet into some occasionally gusty wind, and had a great time. I had rises and strikes for nearly every cast, and was able to release 4 small cutthroats and rainbows. 
I had about 12 hookups, but these fish were hard to bring in. One 8 incher even broke me off and took my fly as I was trying to release it properly. These were all young fish, and I believe they were wild, since none of their fins were missing or even damaged. They were truly feisty and a pleasure to catch.
A bizzare ending to this day occured when the Mount Shavano Hatchery truck backed up to the boat ramp and disgorged 2200 fairly large rainbows. Susan, Liam and I spent some time nudging 12 - 14 inch rainbows back into the water after they had beached themselves following their precipitous introduction to the lake. I chatted a bit with the driver, and he told me that these measured out at 3 fish to 2 pounds, and that smaller ones are not stocked at North Lake. This made me feel a little better, although it was more than a little disappointing to see a lake that supports wild trout being stocked -- especially with the specter of Whirling Disease looming over Colorado and the West. It also raises a question as to why North Lake is under artificials-only regulations -- but then Colorado is not the only state with regulations that are at odds with management goals. There is a place for put-and-take fishing, but wild trout waters are too precious to be used in that fashion.
The next stop was Ft. Collins and the Poudre Canyon where I spent much of my time as an undergraduate and graduate student at Colorado State (1971-1977). The Cache la Poudre river was high and coffee-colored. I didn't even bother putting my waders on, but I got many nice photos of whitewater rafters, and places which normally would be nice pocketwater, but were currently raging torrents.
This trip underscored for me the need to protect our remaining wilderness, not only from development and ill-advised stocking of non-native species, but from being "loved to death".
The Cache la Poudre river is one of the most fished and floated rivers in Colorado and it is beginning to show signs of overuse, especially in campgrounds. Being designated a "Wild and Scenic River" has been a two-edged sword -- it protects the first 18 miles and parts of a key tributary from impoundment, but it also attracts upwards of 43,000 angler days per year and 9,000 people taking float trips (1989 data, cited in Evans, HE and MA Evans. 1991. Cache La Poudre. University Press of Colorado). 
The areas designated as a "Recreational River", and undesignated stretches in the lower Poudre Canyon are vulnerable to impoundment, and there are some active proposals to that end. Ironically, the fact that the Poudre is designated a Wild and Scenic River has made the Front Range a more desirable place to live in many people's minds, and thus may indirectly lead to more pressure to create new water impoundments. 
There is an active citizens group (Friends of the Poudre) that thus far has rallied substantial public support for keeping the Poudre a free-flowing river, but if population growth is not checked, then they may not be able to prevent the dams.
The Conejos River is dewatered for 4.5 miles below Platoro Reservoir during most of the winter -- a situation that is totally unnecessary, even in low snowpack years. The typical flow during the winter is 7 cfs, but every spring they have to open the gates to deal with excess snowmelt. A little sensible forecasting could allow for a minimum bypass flow of 23 cfs, which is the minimum needed to support a year-round trout population in the stretch below Platoro Reservoir. As it is now, this stretch is stocked with hatchery fish after the reservoir flows settle down in late spring, and managed as a put-and-take fishery (8 fish daily and possession limit). 
It could support a wild population as does much of the Conejos, and its economic value could rise considerably, not to mention its aesthetic and biological value.
One good bit of news is that Cheeseman Canyon (South Platte River) is safe for now. While we were in Trinidad, a Federal Judge ruled that the EPA does have the right to block Two Forks Dam based on recreational and biological considerations. Of course, what the EPA giveth, the EPA can taketh away, so vigilance is in order.
I fish in Colorado more often now, then when I lived there. The past three years I have spent at least some of my time fishing or looking for places to fish. I have caught stocked fish, wild fish, and native fish. My greatest pleasure has been been when I release a squirming native cutthroat back into a free-flowing, ice-cold mountain stream. I believe that we have made tragic mistakes in how we have managed our fisheries -- not just in Colorado, but all over. We have determined that replacing natives with exotics is morally and biologically equivalent. While one can plead naivete in many of the original decisions, we continue to make the same mistakes over and over again. Ignorance is no longer an excuse. We seem to have developed an arrogant assumption that a Rainbow or Brown trout is a "real fish" while a cutthroat is somehow unworthy of our efforts. This has contributed to the extirption of native cutthroat from 99% of their original range.
There have been four subspecies of cutthroat trout in Colorado: Onchorhynchus clarki stomias, the Greenback Cutthroat; Onchorhynchus clarki pleuriticus, the Colorado River Cutthroat; Onchorhynchus clarki virginalis, the Rio Grande Cutthroat; and Onchorhynchus clarki mcdonaldi, the Yellowfin Cutthroat. The Yellowfin is apparently now extinct. The Greenback is listed as a "Threatened" species, and the others are limited to small portions of their original ranges. Exotic cutthroats have been stocked in some watersheds, and active projects toward native restoration are going on in several locations.
In all honesty, though, I have to acknowlege that where there are wild populations of Browns, Brookies, and Rainbows in Colorado, that their wildness requires a certain amount of respect. What can we do? At the very least, let's not lose any more native trout, and let's try to restore them as much as possible. I think this can be done without laying waste to existing populations of exotics, although where cutthroat are being restored, any brook trout will have to be removed, since they tend to displace the native trout. Let's keep in mind that all trout are not functionally equivalent, and that all cutthroats are not the same. The genetic diversity that arose in different watersheds has been recognized in scientific nomenclature from species to subspecies. We need to recognize this in our management policies as well.
I fully support native cutthroat restoration in as much of their original range as possible. In my opinion this will increase the value of the resource far more than managing for exotic trout. Cutthroat aren't stupid fish; they just aren't fished for enough, thus they are naive throughout much of their remaining range. Try fishing for Snake River Cutthroats near Jackson, Wyoming, though, and you will soon realize that these fish can learn. As for waters where native restoration is not feasible, and wild populations are present, leave them alone (except for necessary regulations).
The bottom line? I spent all my fishing time in high country going after wild fish, mostly cutthroats. I deliberately stayed away from the big rivers, and as a result I think my total experience was enriched, not because I avoided stocked fish, or big crowds, but because I got away from the beaten path, exerted myself a little, and saw myself in a closer relationship with wilderness and nature.
