On July 12, 2021, my friend and I flew into Reno, rented a car, drove about an hour to Carson Pass, and hiked across the saddle to the north into the headwaters of the Upper Truckee River. There lies a large meadow where nonnative brook trout were largely extirpated to make space for a reintroduced population of native Lahontan Cutthroat. In this meadow, they never grow beyond the size of a light snack for their better-known brethren in Pyramid Lake far downstream. But I love fishing tiny streams for tiny, colorful trout, especially a subspecies I've never caught before. This was also a good chance to test camping gear that had rested all winter, and to begin to acclimate to high altitude before
heading south to the Golden Trout Wilderness the next day.
Due to prolonged drought, the water was extremely low, but what water remained in the system was all from spring sources and plenty cold for fishing (55 ºF at 5 pm, on a day when the lowlands were scorching well above 100). Working with great stealth to avoid spooking the very wary fish in such skinny water, I caught and quickly released about twenty trout, of which the largest was a whopping nine inches long. There was ample bug life in the meadow, including some
Drunella duns coming off and lots of boldly marked
Ameletus nymphs ready to pop soon.
I also learned a harsh lesson about the perils of camping along the Pacific Crest Trail. My friend and I found a great campsite, empty when we arrived. We pitched our tents and went off to fish, returning at nightfall to catch some much-needed sleep. Now we had about five neighboring tents and at least ten people. One guy pitched his tent within five feet of my friend's. Another group made a campfire and sat around loudly chatting very late into the night. Apparently through-hikers don't have the same sense of outdoor etiquette as the rest of us, or standards along such a popular trail are just different. Either way, I won't repeat that mistake again.