I Guess Brook Trout Will Do

Well, what started out as a day of exploration ended about as successfully as it could. I first left Steamboat headed north to the headwaters of the Elk River on the hunt for the ever-intrusive brook trout, and with a little luck, some cutthroat. I drove and I drove, stopped in Clark at the general store for what turned out to be an amazing burger made with local, grass-fed beef… and… I kept driving. I drove until I thought I had little chance of seeing a human. Found it… parked the truck, hopped out and started the recon mission of trying to spot ~6” cutthroat in gin clear, foot and a half deep water. Should be easy enough, right?

Somewhere, on the mission, I found myself under a creek bridge, and sooner than expected, two humans taking a break from riding bikes were on the bridge. This is funny because it only further solidifies my perspective out west, which is, no matter how far you are from civilization, just wait, a mom running with a stroller will pass your way in no time. This time it wasn’t a mom and stroller, it was two middle aged bikers, coming down from the mountain and landing right on top of my head. All humor aside, one of the bikers made me aware the creek was recently ‘treated’ to kill all the invasive brook trout.

Well, strike one, I suppose. Fortunately, after driving back to cell service, I was able to put together a plan for the remainder of the afternoon. I’d go to a local creek, make the light hike to the creek and try to land a brookie or two to call the day a success. I arrived in the parking lot determined. I started the walk, it was steep and it was hot, but the trail was not empty and the views were worth the hike. Still going up after a mile of walking I decided it was a good idea to ask the next person I saw how far it was to the creek as I was starting to get a little gassed and did not pack water for the seemingly quick jaunt. Nervously I asked the hiker how much farther until I hit the creek and he said it was somewhere between 2-3 miles, wow, a great help, but honestly, neither option sounded all that appealing. Starting to feel skunked I decided to persevere and continue my hike as some clouds were rolling in and provided good cover from the sun. The afternoon was still young and fish were hopefully waiting for me at the end of the line.

I walked another 2 miles and ended up in field with a single, red barn. Scenic. But those clouds that once provided an appreciated cover were now turning dark and I could hear the patter of rain start to creep across the valley. I was stuck, 3 miles out from my car, in a rainstorm with another mile to go until I hit the stream. I found a large tree along the hiking path and took cover with the cows. About thirty minutes passed, I was alone, sans the cows, and thought now was a great time to hit the stream as weather usually brings a bite and all my fellow trail-goers were probably back in the lot and far off the trail. I basically ran to the creek, another mile, rigged a size 14 hopper and threw it at what turned out to be a beautiful stream. My first cast was met with the powerful top-water eat of a very healthy 9” brook trout. The day was a success….