High Mountain Sculpin Lake, Colorado

Moving to Colorado, fishing was a primary motivator.  It wasn't necessarily the size of the fish driving me to the mountains, but the immaculate beauty of creation, and the challenge of the pure hunt.  In my four years of fishing Colorado’s freestones and tail waters, I've learned that catching a fish isn't as easy as tossing a kernel of corn in a slack water.  Having fished several of the main fisheries – Colorado River, Arkansas River, Big Thompson, Clear Creek, 11 Mile and Cheeseman Canyon… I’m always left with wanting more.

Since my relocation, fishing a high mountain lake has always been a pinnacle of dreams.  Again, it wasn't the size of fish that fed the dream, but rather the surrounding beauty.  Recently, I found it.  Just off I-70, on an unsuspecting exit, I found an oasis with clear-as-day water surrounded by daunting peaks and shadowing pines.  It was a peaceful and small lake, most assuredly holding fish.  Most-assuredly, because I watched trout hit top-water for a solid hour.  

Laboriously tossing dry flies, I decided to run the gamut on my fly box.  After hours of the same results, I pulled a streamer as somewhat of a last resort.   Streamer after streamer, still seeing fish feeding, still getting skunked.  I put on a very close resembling sculpin fly.  It was size 16 with dark hunter green color and distinctively beady eyes.  With only an hour of daylight left, 10 fish were caught.  Wildly successful compared to other scarce Colorado trips.  Perhaps it was the conditions, though ever-changing.   Perhaps it was the season, or hatch.  As I've often found in Colorado, however, it was just the perfect fly. 

I lost several sculpin flies, and resulted to the hunter green with brown hackle wooly buggers I tied years ago.  First cast, second cast, these flies landed fish without fail.  These fish weren't the trophy size monsters we all dream of, but with bright orange underbellies, white-tipped fins, and brilliant blue-surrounded-by-blood-red spots, these brook trout were the fish that inspire art - God’s art.  It was beautiful, and it was a perfect lesson of persistence in Colorado fishing. 

So what's the moral of my short story here?  Head to the high mountain lakes, and when you do, try everything.  Just make sure you have some spare sculpin flies in your box just in case.  And, as always … Cast to the Other Side.