The Allure of High Mountain Troutin'
by Phil Scheen
The day had finally come... School was out, the bags were packed, and the little family from the hot humid flatlands of Texas was just about to explode with anticipation.
Once a year for a week or two this little band had the opportunity to escape the constant pressures of the big city, and head to the mountains of Colorado. On the way they had to stop in western Kansas to check in with relatives, and drive out with grandma and grandpa... if they weren't already in God's Country. One way, or another, the drive only took a couple of days, but it seemed like they'd never spy the hills above Pueblo. One of the many games and contests along the way to keep the three kids occupied, and not driving their parents crazy was to see who could spot the mountains first... and then it happened! "There they are! I swear I see 'em!" Everybody would stick their heads forward and squint to see if indeed little Jerry had spotted the mountains. Sometimes he was just overanxious, but others... "You know what, son... THERE THEY ARE!!!" ...and the celebration would begin.
While Dad and Grandpa worked their butts off building our cabin, my brother Jerry and I would explore every inch of that mountain. Collecting rocks, hunting everything that moved, and of course, fishing occupied our every waking moment.
Finally, the cabin was finished! For a couple of years we were able to actually stay there, and not have to retreat to the motel at night. It was absolutely the most wonderful thing a young boy could experience. Play hard all day on that mountain, then spend the evening on the deck with the family... Looking up at the stars through crystal clear skies was amazing! All the constellations that we had learned about in school were actually visible up in the mountains. After eating, joking around, and maybe playing a game or two, we'd all just relax and listen to all the living things stirring from their daylight slumber, but the best part was that at times there was total silence...
On the drive back to Texas in my eighth year on this earth the most unexpected and unacceptable thing that could happen to a kid became reality... The State Patrol knocked on our motel room door in the middle of the night in Childress and informed us that grandpa had died in his sleep in our cabin in Colorado.
For many reasons the decision was made to sell the cabin. When I heard the news, I was devastated, but once I had regained some semblance of control, I promised myself I would one day return to God's Country... but this time to stay!
It was a long hard road, but that 8 year old's dream of returning to Colorado for good happened 24 years later. During that period, a substantial amount of time was spent in Utah, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and Oregon exploring the mountains... and learning the art of teasing high country trout to strike. There is truly nothing quite like being all by oneself, in complete silence, except for the slurping of a cutthroat trout five feet from shore of a gorgeous alpine crystal clear lake!
From Montana's Missouri River to the Wood of Idaho, and the Klamath of Oregon, I have experienced incredible fishing... The hundreds of lakes and streams of Utah's Uintas are amazing, as are the dozens of spots in the Tetons and Wyoming's Yellowstone Park... For the young at heart and the stout of body, the Wind River Mountains are truly incredible. In the end, God's greatest creation is the mountains, and all the life that springs forth from them! ...but let's get down to the subject at hand... Slammin' trout in the high country!
From the first step taken out of the car once arriving at this day's target until that final "FISH ON!"... fishing alpine waters is truly an experience that should be had by every person on the face of the earth. It's not just about the fishing. Unmatched scenery combined with serenity and solitude does the soul more good than anything else I know of. Becoming a part of that huge living thing that is "the mountain" is beyond description, if a person will just allow their defenses to drop. By doing so, you may be very surprised how your fishing improves as well.
You must become a part of it all, and for a while just sit back and soak it all in... Once you have reached that point, you will begin to sense things that were invisible before... including trout, and their favorite haunts, and habits in the water you are becoming "one" with.
Although they may all look the same, every body of water "up above" has it's own character, which heavily influences trout behavior. Take the time to observe, and you will very definitely increase your catch rate. Be quiet, move slowly, and with stealth... Never let your shadow invade the water... You are the predator, no different than the cheetah on the African plain...
Where is your quarry spending it's time... and why? Is every bug being attacked, or are numerous being ignored? Does shade seem to be playing an important role, or how about current? Are fry being chased? Are there active predator birds? How about beavers and muskrats? Where are the feeder streams? Stick your finger in the water... are some areas far cooler than others? What direction is the wind coming from? By this time you should have a very good idea what you are up against. Now it's time to plan your attack.
First and foremost the trout you are targeting must not know you are there. Yes, I know many trout anglers wade right out in the middle of their prey... and sometimes do just fine. This discussion is not about doing "just fine". It's about finding the big brookies and cutts that those who make their presence known will seldom coerce to strike. It's about catching mean 16" brookies, where most anglers are convinced the population is stunted. It's about landing cutts and browns, where it was believed only little brookies lived. Stay tuned for part 2.
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