Our Golden Trout adventure started with Mark & I realizing that we both wanted to catch a Golden Trout. Mark has been thinking about catching this fish since he first heard about them when he was 15 years old. I’d spent some 3-years researching and collecting data on where to catch the fish. We had both caught all the 7-species of trout to qualify for the IGFA "Royal Trout Slam" certificate, except the Golden Trout. Catching the Golden Trout has been very high on our list for years, allowing us to qualify for the Trout Slam!

We finally picked a date (July 5, 2006) to make our attempt.

We booked a Delta Airlines flight from Seattle to Bakersfield, CA, leaving Seattle at 6AM and arriving at the Bakersfield airport (elevation 515’)(the importance of elevations will become apparent later in the story), via Salt Lake City, Utah, at Noon.

Mark’s Dad, Marvin, (I call him Pops) drove his 2004 Toyota Tundra, 4WD, crew-cab pickup from southeast Arizona to join us for the trip.

We loaded the pickup quickly, gassed up at Arco ($2.99/gal) and headed for Lone Pine, CA. east on highway 178. As Hwy. 178 meets the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains; we noted a huge sign on the side of the highway in English & Spanish. The sign said, "238 lives have been lost on this section of highway since 1968!" Oh, terrific!! The narrow road twisted along the walls of the Kern River canyon, in several cases, the white-line was within inches of the overhanging rock walls; with the opposite lane white-line hanging on to the edge of a 100’ drop in to the depths of the canyon. Seeing a semi coming toward you on this 25-mile section of road caused you to hold your breath!!

Pops, who had been an exotic car (read: Jaguar, Ferrari & Lamborghini) mechanic in a past life, drove the little Toyota pickup thru the curves like a pro!

We drove the 250 or so miles across the spine of the Sierra Nevada’s to Hwy. 395, then north to Lone Pine, CA. (population 2060, elevation 3700’), arriving at 4PM.

Lone Pine is located on the east side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the high, hot, Owens Valley desert setting. It’s also the gateway to Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the continental U.S. at 14,494’.

Lone Pine is also famous for the Alabama Hills, a very large and unusual set of granite rock formations that have been featured in many western movies & television shows since the 1920’s; such as "Mule Train", "Rawhide", "Westward Ho", "The Lone Ranger", & "Hopalong Cassidy". The town sports a new Movie Museum and has served as a home-away-from-home for many stars while they were filming, including Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, Ernest Borgnine, Clint Eastwood, Russell Crowe and of course the "King of the Westerns"; the "Duke"; John Wayne. Many of the local restaurants have their wall lined with autographed photos of hundreds of western era stars.

Our first stop was to check into the Mt. Whitney Motel (1-800-845-2362) where Andy had made reservations. The room was nice….a typical old motel room…having 3 full-sized beds, as we’d requested. The air conditioner also worked well, which was a must with the 95 to 105 degree daytime temperatures in the area.

Next we were off to Gardner’s True Value Hardware store where we bought 10-day California fishing licenses ($34.90) and gleaned as much fishing information from the old man behind the counter as we could.

We purchased a few flies that were recommended by the hardware store’s local "fishing expert"….saying, "these will catch Golden Trout in both lakes & streams!" Dave’s Hopper, Black Knat, BH Pheasant-tail, & Mosquito patterns (we’d later learn why this pattern worked) were recommended. The "expert" also provided advice on the length of the trail to Cottonwood Lakes, tough weather conditions in the mountains, bugs, snakes and other hazards to be expected. He also mentioned that there were "Sacramento Perch" in the local Diaz Lake, which perked up Mark’s ears, as he’d never caught a Sacramento Perch before, but more on that later.

After the hardware store, we walked across the street; the town of Lone Pine is about 3-blocks long, to the Totem Café for dinner (4:45PM). By now the animal crackers and ginger ale served for lunch on the airline had worn off and a good, hearty meal was in order.

Shortly after dinner (~5:30PM) we decided to head up into the mountains to check out the research Andy had done and the advice we’d received at the Hardware store to see if we could actually catch a Golden Trout on the first day of our trip.

We drove west out of the middle of town on the Whitney-Portal Road, thru the extremely unique formations of the Alabama Hills,

then turned southwest on the Horseshoe Meadows road (190 & FSR 16S02). A mile or so up the road, Pops said; "Andy, we were going to gas up the truck before we left town,…. we forgot!" The gas needle was hovering at about 1/8 tank. Andy; "Lets go back!" Pops; "Naw, this ole truck gets good gas mileage, we can make it." We had no idea how far we were going, but Pops added a comment to quell our fears; "Besides, on the way down we’ll hardly use any gas, if we run out, we’ll coast back into town!" Terrific, I know that made me feel a lot better….. just the thought of careening down a mountain, in the dark, without power made me relax!

The Horseshoe Meadows road continued thru the sagebrush-covered desert to the base of a 9,000’ high shear granite cliff, where the very narrow road, carved into the granite, clung to the side of the mountain in the most incredible set of steep switchbacks I’ve ever seen. As if narrow wasn’t good enough, sections of the road, around blind corners, were marked; "One-Lane Traffic Ahead", where large rocks had fallen onto the road & the road crew left them on the edge of the road as they couldn’t dispose of them by shoving them over the side….they would have caused an avalanche of rocks of monumental proportions onto the road sections below. A sign, at the beginning of the road, warned of "Falling Rocks" and someone had added; "And they’re not kidding!" to the sign with a marker. Huge granite boulders clung to the hillside above the road, somehow seeming to defy gravity. Traveling this road during a heavy rainstorm would be CRAZY!

On a turnout near the top of the road we spied a huge rock with a plaque on it, it said; "Walter G. Millet Point". Looking into the valley below from this point, you could barely make out the cars moving on Hwy. 395 below….they looked like ants!

Later, in town, we asked, "Who is Walter G. Millet?". No one seemed to know; the only story we were told was that he was killed while building the road. But, there was another story about "Walt’s Point" that everyone knew. Seems a guy….likely somewhat crazy….decided to launch his hang-glider off Walt’s Point. Now you must understand; there is nothing off the edge of the road at this point but a few thousand feet of AIR! And this guy jumped off with an aluminum & nylon airplane! What he did was set the World hang-glider distance record by traveling some 162 miles from Walt’s Point (in California) to Nevada!! Come to think of it, he probably would have set the distance record anyway, even if his glider hadn’t worked, since it was almost two-miles straight down from Walt’s Point to the ground in the valley below!

With Pops great driving, Andy navigating & Mark shouting; "What out for that ROCK!" we somehow managed to make it 23 miles to the top at Horseshoe Meadows. Everyone checked the soles of their shoes to see if their toenails had cut thru the soles! Whew, exciting, but what a road!!

Arriving at Horseshoe Meadows about 7:15PM we grabbed our fly rods and gear and headed for a small meadow with an un-named stream flowing thru it.

 The stream is a tributary of Cottonwood Creek. The anticipation of catching our first Golden Trout was high! The stream was small (3’ to 6’ wide), brush-lined and very sinuous.

Mark was first to shout "fish-on!", catching a beautiful 6" fish on a small Stimulator fly.

Andy was next with a similar fish caught on a dry fly emerger pattern. Pops was next to catch one. We just couldn’t believe how beautiful these fish are; no picture or paintings we’d seen had prepared us for the beauty of the little fish in our hands. Pictures, congratulations and High-5’s echoing thru the mountains sealed 3+ years of anticipation! We could now join the rare group of anglers that had accomplished the IGFA "Royal Trout Slam"!

Golden Trout!!

We continued to catch these great little brightly colored fish (3" to 8") until 8PM.

Pops skillfully negotiated the Toyota Pickup back down thru the switchbacks successfully avoiding rocks, jackrabbits, lizards and lots of Chuckars on the way down. About 45 minutes later we were back in Lone Pine and Pops said, "See, the "low gas light" hasn’t even come on yet!" He was right; the little Toyota got great mileage.

The beds at the Mt. Whitney Motel did the trick, we all slept well and we were up and out at 5:30AM. Just west of the motel, the sun was rising on Mt. Whitney, a beautiful sight. The temperature was pleasant, but rising rapidly toward the expected high of nearly 100 degrees.

Breakfast at the High Sierra Café, then gas, water, snacks and ice at the service station. Starting up the same mountain road as yesterday at 7AM, we reached the 9600’ trailhead about 45 minutes later. A little over excited, we jumped out of the truck and started up the trail…..then we realized we were at the wrong trailhead. Fortunately before we got too far, we reviewed a map and discovered that the Cottonwood Lakes trailhead was a ¼ -mile behind us. By 8:15 we were on the right trail to the Cottonwood Lakes.

We’d heard several estimates about the length of the trail to the Cottonwood Lakes, some said 3 to 4 miles, others said 3 hours. Some said the trail was reasonably flat, with a little up-turn at the end, others said the elevation gain was more than 1500 feet. Our maps indicated that the trail was likely 6-miles long and the elevation gain was nearly 2000’ to 11,600’. (To give you some perspective of how high this fishing hole is; Camp Muir, the base camp used to make the finial summit assault on Mt. Rainier (14,490’) is located at 10’000’!) So as we left, we weren’t sure just what we we’re getting into, although the old guy at the hardware store said we should be prepared for most any kind of weather, including hail & snow! We were also told if we couldn’t make it to the lakes, we could fish Cottonwood Creek, which flowed along the trail in several places. So with daypacks and fishing vests loaded….off we went.

The trail started off with a downhill grade, and then began to steadily climb. We crossed creeks on logs and kept climbing.

After two hours of hiking, at a pretty good pace, we were convinced that those that told us the trail was 3-miles long were wrong. Every hour or so, we’d take a short break to drink water and have a few M&M snacks and a granola bar. Our breaks didn’t last long because as soon as you quit moving, the mosquitoes began their attack. Mark & his Dad started a contest…..who could whack the most mosquitoes with one smack! I think the record was 7! I was wearing Orvis & ExOfficio "Buzz-Off" clothing….sox, pants, shirt & hat. I purposely wore the outfit to check out its ability to repel bugs. The clothing is impregnated with an odorless chemical that’s derived from chrysanthemums and is reputed to repel insects and survive up to 25 washings. The mosquitoes, sometimes a half-dozen at a time, would land on my "Buzz-Off" pants….I let them be to see if they would bite….they didn’t. I was only bit on my exposed hands and neck. The "Buzz-Off" clothing seemed to work well in my opinion. Although Mark suggested that the reason the mosquitoes were leaving me alone was because, "I simply didn’t taste good!"

Along the way we ran into a couple other hiking groups that looked like they’d just stepped out of an REI catalog. We passed them by quite handily, leaving them in our dust….they must not have been planning on fishing….the only thing I could imagine that would account for their lack of enthusiasm.

After a couple hours of hiking, we were sure the lakes would show up just around the next bend….they didn’t. Two and a half hours into our march, the trail took a definite upward trend, becoming steep, rocky, and dominated by switchbacks. A half-hour later at about 11AM, and after 3-hours of hiking, we spotted Cottonwood Lake #1 off to our left.

We were inclined to rush down to the lake and begin fishing…..as the Golden Trout fever had us in its grip…. but we decided that we’d trudge on to the higher lakes, were we suspected the fishing might be even better, then fish Lake #1 on the way back.

The trail flattened into a boulder filled meadow, then Lake #2 appeared.

It was shallow and surrounded by tulle reeds and low brush. We stopped near the east end of the lake, had a few sips of water and prepared our fishing equipment. With anticipation at a fever pitch, Andy hopped from boulder to boulder to reach a casting platform beyond the shore reeds. Using his 8’-6", 5wt., 4pc. Orvis T3 rod, fitted with an Orvis Battenkill reel, 5-weight-forward fly line, 4lb. test Orvis Mirage tippet and a "Dave’s Hopper" fly; he made his first cast. The hopper hit the water near a large boulder in the lake causing a ring of ripples. There just had to be a trout lying near that rock. I let the hopper set until the rings dispersed, then let it set a little longer. Nothing! Then I gave the hopper a little twitch, then another. Nothing! A few dozen more casts sprayed around the area produced the same result….Nothing.

As we glanced around the lake, we didn’t see any fishy activity….not good. Mark & Pops went around the north end of the lake while Andy went around the south end. Mark called on the portable radios we were carrying to report that he’d spotted one fish rising, but had no success in tracking it down. Meanwhile, Andy found a likely looking area and took off his shoes and sox to wade into the lake to reach a good casting position away from the brush on the shore. I was surprised at how warm the lake water was as I stepped in the first inch of water on the grassy shore bank, especially since there was still snow in the rocks & the ancient, stunted bristle-cone pine forest surrounding the lake.

I took the next step, over the edge of the bank into a foot of water and damn near swallowed my tongue!! The water was FREEZING! After 15-minutes of casting, without luck, I couldn’t feel my feet any longer, so I walked back to the shore and sat on a rock for a while until the feeling returned to my feet.

I looked up to see where Mark was and if he was doing any better than I. I spotted Mark casting from atop a huge boulder……in the middle of the lake!!

He’d wet waded….nearly up to his waist….to the boulder and was spraying casts in all directions…..again with no luck. Pops reported on the radio that he hadn’t had any action either. Humm….this wasn’t too good, we’d come all this way and couldn’t find even a hint of a Golden Trout.

The trail leaving Lake #2 was narrow and less trodden.

It rose onto a high boulder-strewn ridge that continued above the tree line. High on the ridge, we lost the trail in a huge field of boulders. We continued to scramble thru the boulders and brush and soon spotted Cottonwood Lake #3. A long, deep, blue lake bordered on the south side by a huge, snow-capped granite mountain that dove straight down to the lakeshore and a car-sized boulder filled brushy shore on the north side. At the west end of the lake, a 50’ falls, surrounded by snowfields, roared into the lake.

Upon reaching the gin-clear lake, we could see a narrow shallow belt around the lake that dropped quickly into a purple-black drop off. This lake looked very promising. Mark & Pops moved to the east along the north shore and Andy moved to the west. Mark and Andy made several casts with flies over the edge of the drop off while Pops tried a spinner. More than a half-hour passed without as much as a nibble. We continued to work the shorelines. Andy found a large rock about 40’ offshore and laid his emerger-fly alongside. Pop!…..my first strike…and a miss!

Then I spotted several fish cruising the shoreline…..I called Mark on the radio to report the action. He said he’d also spotted cruising fish in the area he was fishing, but no matter how hard we tried we could only elicit occasional strikes, but no hookups.

I called Mark again on the radio and told him I was going to check out the base of the falls. As I hiked along the shoreline, I spotted several more cruising fish, but resisted the temptation to fish them as I suspected the falls might produce better action.

An impenetrable thicket of 8’ high brush blocked the stream along the falls, but a small trail lead into the brush. I followed it to a branch in the trail and took the right branch. It ended at the edge of the stream in a boulder filled torrent of whitewater. Backtracking, I tried the trail to the left, which soon lead into the edge of the flowing stream. I stepped from rock to rock to cross the stream, then back onto the trail. This trail also came to the main part of the stream and as I peered thru the brush, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The pool ahead of me had at least two-dozen Golden Trout swimming in it. I could hardly contain my excitement! I was standing in ice-cold water, surrounded by thick brush, but decided to see if I could get a fly to these fish. I unstrung my fly, pulled out a bit of line and dabbled the fly into the water. Just as the fly drifted around a piece of brush, a take….I set the hook and lifted a 7" Golden Trout out of the water. Just then, he flipped off the barb-less hook and my fly flipped into the thicket. Trying to retrieve the fly, my line got even more tangled in this quagmire of branches, eventually I lost the fly and retreated to the clearing at the beginning of the trail to tie on a new fly.

I called Mark and said, "Hey….this little stream is absolutely loaded with fish…get down here!!"

I climbed the nearby snow covered slope to the top of the ridge (11,600’) to see if there was a place to safely cross the stream so I could descend back to the lake to fish the less brushy, far side of the stream. No luck, the stream above was an absolute torrent flowing thru a field of huge boulders and surrounded by brush.

As I scrambled back down the mountain, Mark & Pops arrived at the stream. We walked thru the brushy trail and crossed it by wading thru the pool I’d fished. There were Golden Trout scurrying everywhere.

Our jaws dropped as we glanced thru the brush where the stream flowed into the lake…..there were dozens of feeding Golden Trout gulping bugs along the seams of the incoming waters.

Andy was first to tie a black emerger pattern on his tippet and make a long cast from the shoreline, past the brushy lake edge to the feeding trout. The fly drifted only a few feet before there was a head-out-of-the-water gulping take. The absolutely gorgeous 9" Golden Trout made quite an account of himself before coming to the net; I was impressed with his tenacity. The fish had a copper-bronze back, bright red lateral line thru large parr marks, and bright yellow coloration with huge black spots behind the adipose fin and onto the tail. Its stomach was bright orange/red and its lower fins were outlined in white! Absolutely stunning!! A couple quick pictures and the fish was safely released.

Mark was next to hook-up; he’d found a clear spot along the stream just as it entered the lake. He tried a few flies that drew strikes but failed to hookup, but then found the right pattern and caught several nice trout.

Andy and Mark continued to each catch a dozen or so of these terrific fish, up to nearly 10-inches. Large as Golden Trout go in the Sierras. Pops tried several spinners and a casting bubble with a variety of flies without luck.

We’d told ourselves that we should leave the lake at 3PM to safely make it back to the trailhead. It was now 3:30 and it was painful to tear ourselves away from this unique, once-in-a-lifetime fishery, but we had to go.

The hike back started briskly given the downhill grade.

Our shoes & sox were soaked from wading across the stream and they squished as we walked. After an hour of hiking, we took a water/snack break, swatted mosquitoes and moved on. Mark laid his new digital camera on a rock during our break. After hiking for another 10 minutes, I heard Mark say, "Where’s my camera?" Oh, oh…..it’s still lying on the rock. Mark hiked back as Pops & I sat on a log and waited. We sat for only a couple minutes, then realized that we had to keep moving, even if at a slow pace, to keep the mosquitoes from sucking all the fluids from our bodies, leaving just our dry husks lying along the trail.

After two hours of hiking, we were beginning to long for the site of something familiar indicating that we were getting near the trailhead. It wasn’t to be. Where is that bridge over the creek? We must be getting close. But it wasn’t. We kept hiking.

At 2-1/2 hours of hiking, our brisk strides had been reduced to a plodding….put-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. The roof of my mouth felt like a saltine cracker.

I began hallucinating……. seeing cars in a parking lot behind every tree. That damn parking lot must be just around the next turn in the trail. Not so. As I plodded down the trail, I looked ahead, anticipating the parking lot, but only saw the trail headed up a steep grade. I’d forgotten that the trail started with a downhill run and the grade ahead nearly did me in. The plodding slowed to a grind. Pops was leading the group and just then, the radio crackled with his excited voice; "I’m here!!" "I’ve made it to the truck!"

To borrow a line from that famous "hiker", Merewether Lewis when he first spotted the Pacific Ocean….. "OH THE JOY!!"

It was 6:30 PM. We peeled off our packs, sipped the last of our water in triumph and took off our wet shoes and sox. We’d done it…..caught the famous California Golden Trout….and lived to tell about it!

Note to self: "The next time you plan to take a 12-mile hike….PACK EXTRA DRY SOX!!!"

We arrived back in Lone Pine at 7:30 after descending the 6000 vertical feet of road from the trailhead. On the way down, we saw a buck in velvet with a doe cross the road, several long-eared jackrabbits made suicide runs in front of the truck. Chukar, California Quail, Ravens and scurrying lizards were everywhere.

We celebrated our Golden Trout success with a nice steak dinner and a drink at "Seasons" restaurant in Lone Pine……and a couple aspirins before we went to bed.

Bed never felt so good….!