A trip into the Sangres

These living dreams I wish to share with you.

Everett Ruess
 Last summer I took a friend into a secret spot of mine, a place many miles from anywhere and frequented by very few people, the canyon walls and rushing waters keep all but the most intrepid away, instead they opt for the lakes higher up with bigger fish and easier to reach waters but that's not my way, I prefer the hard to reach spots where I can be in solitude and this canyon has everything I crave.

The view coming in on the trail

 The first glimpse of the stream, now to find a way down the 30 ft cliffs

 My buddy working the first run after we slid down to the water, a 30 ft waterfall is behind him which is why we chose this spot to drop in

 Working our way upstream

 

 

 

Not long after we dropped in we were stopped by a massive pool and 30 ft high waterfall, this pool was full of fish. I couldn't get the entire waterfall in the picture as it had several steps to it around the corner

 

 

 

We had to backtrack and climb a cliff to go around the massive pool and waterfall and then find another place to drop in, missing several awesome looking pools but what we experienced more than made up for the missed pools

 

 

 

 

 

 A 16'' Rio Grande Cutt from a small stream, about as perfect as perfect can get

 

 This high country is truly where I feel most alive and happy, worries are forgotten, stress is washed away by the ice cold waters and when I return home I feel more at ease, like a piece of the wildness still is inside and I'm better able to handle the day to day to day stresses we all face. The only bad part with the high country is that the season is so short, 3 months at best and there is never enough time to go everywhere I want.

 

 

 

 

A 15" Rio caught by my friend

 

 



Chasing turkeys, catching Cutt's

Sometimes the biggest treasures come from the smallest treasure chest

Paul Vertrees
The quote above by my good friend Paul is absolutely perfect for what I experienced today, an absolute treasure from a place that, for all intents, was a trickle that I could barely fill up my water bottles from, at least that's what I thought until I found these beaver ponds absolutely crawling with fish.

5 years ago, not long before I took up Tenkara, I found a stream with Cutthroats in it while chasing turkeys in a drainage that wasn't supposed to have Cutts in it, heck according to the biologist there shouldn't have been any fish in it at all but there they were. I've never been able to find this drainage again though, in this area they all tend to look the same once you're down in them with no distinguishing features to speak of except for a stream with Cutthroat Trout in them.

Like I said I could never find it again, until today...

 

 

 

 That's it, Thanks!

Knee deep in the Gores

Mystery is as real and necessary a
component of these mountains as
are the tangible elements of bears,
rock, sun, trees, water, fern.

Rick Bass

A while back a friend and I headed deep into the Eagles Nest wilderness which is nestled in the rugged Gore range north of Frisco. This was the first time for myself into that area as I normally head south and west of my house into the Sangres or Collegiates but I've had my eyes on catching the third and last subspecies of Native Cutthroat Trout here in Colorado which, since it resides in the Colorado River drainage, is aplty called Colorado River Cutthroat and they just happen to thrive high in the Gores.

On Friday we didn't start hiking till 5 pm so I didn't get to take as many pictures as we were hustling to put some miles behind us and since it was such a nice night we hiked for a couple hours by headlamp until we found a suitable place to sleep. By the time we set up camp it was after 10 and a thunderstorm was pushing towards us so we both ate quick and bailed into our shelters to listen to the rain and thunder pound down on us with flashes of lightning lighting up the inside of my supertarp every few seconds. If you've never experienced a thunderstorm at 10,000 feet it's a sight to behold, the thunder seems to roll down the canyons like a freight train, rattling your fillings and making your heart skip while you pray that the lightning doesn't decide that your shelter looks like a good target.

It was cold that first night, ice developed on my tarp and I was a bit chilly in my 40 deg bag and this was the view of the valley when I stuck my head out of the door.



Alpenglow on the peaks we were heading into

Breakfast was quick, a butthole sandwich chased down with some ice cold stream water and camp was packed and off we went on the climb that never seemed to end.

 

 

The trail kept us in the timber a lot and it was all uphill, going from 9,500 ft to just under 11,500 ft in 4 miles. There's several lakes in this drainage, actually the lower one is in a separate drainage that if you're not looking for you will pass right by as there is no signage or bridge across the creek to get to it, which is exactly what my buddy did as he was pretty far ahead of me as I stopped to take pictures.

 

 

 I ate so many raspberries on this trip, they were awesome!

 

 

 

 

The upper lake, which we had planned on camping at, but there was one problem with our plan, it was packed with people! Every spot big enough to pitch a tent was occupied and people had them set up on slopes, under beetle killed snags and in mosquito infested draws. The views were unbelievable, absolutely astounding and were more than worth the long slog uphill. We stopped and ate lunch and we decided to head back downhill to just above the lower lake to a nice spot we passed. My buddy headed back downhill to claim the spot and rest while I decided that I wanted to see what was above this lake and see if I could make it to a little tarn nicknamed after a continent due to its shape.

 

 There is no trail this far in, bushwacking was the only way to continue making forward progress and I had to do a couple of scrambles, free climbing 10-20 ft chimneys.

 

The first chimney going up

 

 This waterfall drains from the upper drainage into the upper lake

 

 

 

This upper drainage was in direct contrast to the lower part containing the overcrowded upper lake. Where the lower was packed with people, illegal fire rings and what seemed like a virtual tent city, this area was devoid of life, no tracks, no tents and only one ancient fire ring was seen. I failed on my assault on the continent tarn, I pushed to hard, to late in the day and I got to within 1/4 mile and 300 vertical feet of it but that last 300 feet was straight up a near vertical avalanche chute covered in chest high vegetation and I just didn't have the energy to spare to make the final ascent, I hope to get back up there sometime to visit it.

This unnamed tarn drains into the waterfall above, eventually ending up in the upper lake but with how shallow the tarn looked I wasn't paying much attention to it until I hit the outlet stream and saw fish in it, I did come here to catch some Cutt's on Tenkara after all.

 

 

This stream, this tarn, WOW...

 

 

Mission accomplished

 

 A 14'' Colorado Cutt from near 12,000 ft

 

 

Such a healthy population of fish in this little, unnamed tarn, it was unbelievable, all age classes of fish which means that this is a naturally reproducing population and no brook trout in sight, which is a great thing since they are the bane of native fish here in the west.

Too soon I had to go, there was miles to go and places to fish before I could sleep tonight. This tarn though is a secret place that I will keep and I plan on spending a night here sometime while visiting another continent.

 

 

The last chimney I had to go down, used to be I would just throw my pack off the and scramble down but with all my camera stuff and fishing gear I figured it would be a little safer to lower it down.

 

 

The upper lake was, according to the Biologist I spoke with, supposed to be all Cutthroats but after catching 15 brook trout I began to doubt it and the few people I spoke with said the same thing.

 

 I gave this lake an hour or so and began to beat feet back down to where I hoped camp was at

 

 

I got there and was greeted by a nice fire and a flat spot for my tarp and my buddy cooking some fish for dinner so I went and caught a brookie to throw in the coals

 

 

 

 

 My buddies mess and my svelt Kifaru Supertarp

 

 

Pretty much my whole kit

 

 

 Our final day I woke to watch the sun paint the crags with early morning glow and then took a stroll down to the lower lake

 

 One of the most perfectly spotted Cutt's I've ever seen, just perfect

 

 The lake, while beautiful, was rather slow as far as fishing goes and I headed back to camp to pack up and as soon as I got packed my buddy showed up and told me of all the Cutt's in the outlet stream. He wasn't lying.

 

 

 

 

I spotted this fish in a deep pool, in a spot of sunlight that made it glow and once I got the Kebari deep enough it hit and I was surprised at its size, which while it was super skinny it measured out at 15''

 

 When I let it go I cast the fly back into the same pool not expecting to catch anything but as soon as it hit the water a beast hit it, the biggest fish of the trip at 18"

 

 

A final view of where we were

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My buddy setting the hook on a brook trout

 

 

 

 

 It was a relief to see this sign, it meant we were back to my truck but at the same time it was bittersweet because it meant my trip was over, 30 miles in 3 days, several dozen fish caught and some of the most beautiful country in the lower 48. I found a drainage that needs to be explored and I still need to visit that other continent so I'm sure I'll be back next soon...