July 2024
For Day 2 of the quest for rare Rio Grande Cutthroats in Colorado’s San Luis Valley,see http://hooknfly.com/2024/08/28/the-search-for-the-elusive-san-luis-valley-rio -grande-cutthroats-continues/
For a sampling of another of my Rio Grande Cutthroat adventures in the San Luis Valley, see http://hooknfly.com/2021/09/14/prospecting-for-trout-on-the-fab-five-forks-of-the-conejos-river-2-the-adams-fork/
The comeback story of the endangered Rio Grande Cutthroat is an encouraging one. Once found in waters throughout the Rio Grande River drainage in southern Colorado and northern New Mexico and even in the Pecos River in Texas, its range had shrunk to less than ten percent of its historic area due to a variety of causes like habitat destruction and introduction of invasive species like rainbow and brook trout. But a cooperative effort by government agencies like the federal Fish and Wildlife Service and Colorado Parks and Wildlife as well as conservation groups such as Trout Unlimited has brought this stunningly beautiful fish back from the brink.
One of the pure delights of the angling adventures of this aging septuagenarian fly fisher has been to sample several of the streams in the San Luis Valley like Medano Creek in the Great Sand Dunes National Preserve and the Adams and Lake Fork of the Conejos River that provide safe harbor for this striking, rare fish. I am infatuated with its gorgeous colors and as much by the wild country where the Rio Grande Cutts survive and thrive, streams that you have to work to get to and offer quiet solitude upon arrival.
Given its status, I am extra cautious in following all applicable state regulations (e.g., flies only, catch and release) and handle each catch with extreme care before returning them to the water.
Recently, in doing some on-line research about the current status of recovery efforts, I stumbled on a couple of interesting reports from 2008 and 2016 entitled “The Range-Wide Status of Rio Grande Cutthroat Trout.” The 100-page plus studies, put together by a team of state and federal wildlife and land management agencies and the Jicarilla Apache Tribe, identified a host of smaller, little known creeks and streams that were documented as having viable Rio Grande Cutthroat populations along with summaries of efforts to protect and improve habitat for the trout. Illustrative maps depicted the stretches of these waters that held viable Rio Grande Cutthroat populations.
Three caught my eye in Saguache County, Colorado, that mark the northern most range of the Rio Grande Cutthroat—Jacks, Cross, and East Middle Creeks, lying just south of the Continental Divide and the range of the Greenback Cutthroats over the mountains in the Arkansas River drainage. Better yet, they are only an hour’s drive from my cabin near Salida, Colorado.
All three are in the drainage of Saguache Creek, on of my favorite trout streams. The reports stated that there were decent populations of the fish—from 150 to 400/mile–in each water with fair but suitable habitat. In one—East Middle Creek—the reports noted the existence of a stream barrier high in the upper sections of the creek such as waterfall or a small dam/drop structure to protect cutthroat populations from intrusion by invasive species like brook trout from below. These creeks are located close together about a dozen miles or so west of the small town of Saguache, Colorado. Who could resist exploring? Do those streams still hold the rare Rio Grande Cutthroats?
Day 1: Exploring Cross, Jacks, and Middle Creeks
In early July I decide to do a little reconnoitering so headed south from my cabin early one morning towards Saguache on US Highway 284 over Poncha Pass then west on Colorado 114 until the turnoff to the north on Saguache County Road EE 38. I opt first to take a look at Jacks Creek and its tributary Cross Creek to the northwest before heading up the 10-mile stretch on CR 38FF to the Middle Creek Trailhead from where I could hike up to the confluence with East Middle Creek.
I gun up the good gravel road pushing the speed limit of 40 miles an hour, anxious to see these two Rio Grande Cutthroat bastions. I slow as I cross over Cross Creek—beautiful and clear and definitely with enough water to float some cutties. Just ahead to the west I spy a faint two-track that parallels Cross Creek to the north and turn off to explore. Around a bend I go a short distance only to be met by a stout barbed wire fence announcing it is private property. Ok, maybe Jacks Creek will offer more. (I’ll later learn from Colorado Parks and Wildlife staff that the Rio Grande Cutthroats are doing well in Cross Creek.)
I retrace my route back to the county road and continue upstream paralleling Jacks Creek which is several hundred yards south from the road at this point. As I continue west, I am confused a bit by what looks to be a lot of wood cuttings/piles in the valley. In another mile or so the creek swings close to the road so I stop and jump out to explore. The creek is so tiny as to be invisible. Then it dawns on me those wood piles are trees that have been washed down the valley by a tremendous flood in the last year or two. In one spot a tangle to branches and trunks is jammed up over 10 feet high against a stand of big aspen trees on what had been the banks of the creek. The creek bed itself is scoured and completely washed out in long stretches, with the sad remains only a few feet across and a few inches deep. I don’t see a fish anywhere.
I continue upstream until I come to a fork in the road. Here a see a herd of cattle tromping in the creek, adding to the habitat destruction.
Soon I cross over Jacks Creek and again the damage is evident. I do see a couple of minnow-sized fish darting into one-foot-deep hole, but again as a viable trout habitat it has been destroyed. I can only shake my head thinking of the carnage wreaked on the cutthroats by that torrent plus the cattle. This devastation on Jacks Creek underscores the importance of the efforts to protect Rio Grande Cutthroat habitat. Floods, wildfires, overgrazing, and development can all snuff the life out of a stream in no time flat.
Back on the main road I drive further northwest until I came to a gate and private property sign blocking the route. Whether anything of Jacks Creek above survives I can’t tell, but I am not optimistic. I turn and head back towards the junction with the road to East Middle Creek, CR38FF, hoping for the best there.
The route to the Middle Creek trailhead (where the mile hike to the confluence with East Middle Creek begins) is about 10 miles over a good gravel road. The first five miles are on public land, but the last five snake through private property starting with the historic Middle Creek Ranch. Here and there ranch buildings and corrals can be seen, then views old cabins and new second homes pop up along the drive. When I arrive at the trailhead, I am surprised to find it empty on a holiday weekend and even more so with the relatively posh flat and shady camp site with a picnic table and deluxe pit restroom facilities nearby.
I ease out of my SUV and to size things up walk over to the steep slope that plunges down to Middle Creek to the west. I immediately spy some big beaver ponds below and good-looking stretches of stream water that I can’t resist.
I decide to fish my way up to East Middle Creek and on the way see if any cutthroats are hiding in Middle Creek. The sky is clear and sun is bright but still a cool 60 degrees at 9:30 as I suit up in my chest waders. I will carry two rods, a 7.5 foot, 3# wand with just a single dry fly, a #16 Royal Trude, and an 8.5 foot rod rigged with a #16 Royal Stimulator and a #16 green caddis larva dropper of my own creation—the famous Dirk’s Delight.
Soon I am heading north up the good trail that wends through a ponderosa pine forest and offers occasional views of Middle Creek and beaver ponds below.
I walk ten minutes or so upstream then cut down the slope when I see openings in the dense willow thicket along the stream and catch glimpses of open stretches and beaver ponds on the west side of the valley. After some vigorous bushwhacking I break through into more open territory. When I get to the creek I wade in stealthily and overturn a few streambed rocks to see what the trout might be dining on. I find some caddis cases and a few mayfly nymphs, but not the abundant food supply I expected. I take the water temperature, which registers a cold 42 degrees.
Is a lack of food and icy water a bad sign?? But any misgivings are immediately dismissed in the first open run as a nice fish smacks the Royal Trude. He cartwheels out of the water then heads upstream. The small rod bends perilously but is up to the fight and soon a chunky 10-inch brown trout slides into my net. Not a bad start!
From there the action is steady with a few fish feasting on the caddis, but most on top. And after catching one more brownie a tad bigger than the first, the brook trout take over. Most go 8-10 inches, and all are healthy and frisky. Interestingly, the large majority of the fish are initially finning in shallow runs, not the more alluring deeper bend pools in the creek where I would usually expect to find them. I figure the fish must be warming up with a little sunbathing.
Soon I come to a series of beaver ponds and see a few rises here and there, maybe bigger fish I’m thinking. I cautiously work up on the beaver dams keeping a low profile and loft a cast into a foamy flow skirting some deeper water in the pond. All of a sudden, the dry disappears as a brookie inhales the caddis. After a short tussle, I land a six-inch leviathan!
Several more quickly follow. That will be the scene in most of the ponds I sample upstream—only a few fish succumb to the dry and most are smaller than in the creek. Go figure.
As the air temperature rises and I work upstream, the action gets hotter, with every open stretch producing three or four brookies, a couple pushing 12 inches. No cutts and only one more brownie materialize. Often, I am able to cast to fish finning casually in the crystal-clear current above, and it’s great fun to watch them size up the faux insect then quietly rise and inhale it.
Other times the brookies will jet out from an undercut bank to nail the dry midstream in a splashy show. Some of the best spots turn out to be the plunge pools just below the beaver dams. In one I hook a muscular, colorful brookie that looked to be the biggest of the day–over 12 inches–but I execute a long-distance release before confirmation. Fortunately, he is followed by a half dozen hungry buddies of his that don’t escape.
By now the sun is high and my stomach is growling. Visions of an RC Cola are dancing in my head. I think about heading back to that picnic table but decide to hike up just a bit further to the confluence with East Middle Creek, the supposed lair of the Rio Grand Cutthroats. I snake up valley for a few minutes then the trail turns east and soon intersects the stream. Here I find a pretty little pool with a bend that reeks fish! I kneel and carefully flick the Royal Stimi into the run above the pool. The fly swirls downstream and is quickly intercepted by a lightning-bolt-quick fish that the flees back to the depths. I think it looks like a cutt, lighter on the back than a brookie. My heart pounds!! But my old eyes have deceived me. It turns out to be another spunky brookie, but I have to laugh.
I remember now that the map of the barrier installed by the wildlife folk to stop the brook trout from intruding on the cutthroat habitat showed it being a mile or more upstream on East Middle Creek. It’s been a blast catching the spunky brookies on Middl Creek, but guess I will have to come back and work harder to find the prized fish! (Day Two Article Coming Soon!)
That cinches the deal for a stroll back to the picnic table, lunch, and my cold RC. Along the way I enjoy a profusion of wildflowers—winsome wild roses, splashy skyrockets, bold Black-Eyed Susans, and a Rocky Mountain Bee Plant complete with a Checkered While Sulphur Butterfly. The veritable icing on the cake of a lovely day on the water.
