We all resort to the "Well, at least it was nice to get out" ploy on occasion. Sometimes it's weak consolation, sometimes the trip itself is plenty satisfying. This is one of those fishing reports. This one shouldn't be super hard to figure out. It's a fairly popular destination despite a bit of a challenging approach, so knock yourself out.
The road in was unexpectedly rough; definitely high clearance vehicle required. At one point I almost turned around as it was becoming a brush tunnel, and I didn't want to scrape up my (too) nice car, but figured that was preferable to risking my man card. It actually wasn't that bad after all. From the trailhead, it's 1200' of steepish trail to a small lake where the real fun begins. There were actively feeding Cutthroat along the shore, and I surely would have been able to catch some, but wanted to get on to the main attraction. Boulder hop around the lake and head up "Iodine Gulch." You ascend creek bed, boulder field and steep meadow, then traverse another half mile to the lake basin.
There's lots to like about this spot aside from the lakes and fishing. A rock nerd will get a kick out of the E-W transition from metamorphosed sedimentary to intrusive granitic bedrock and the ways they intermingle. I even learned a new word; Trondhjemite. Sounds mystical! Lots of nice wildflowers of course.
From the basin there is a scramble route to the distant popular summit. I skipped that for another day, but did work up to the first high point to enjoy the view.
And yes, I spent lots of time fishing. At least four of the lakes were stocked in 2019. They get a fair amount of pressure from human and avian predation. A couple I talked to had watched a successful Osprey hunt the previous day, and one of the fish I saw had a large obvious wound on its back. Numbers seemed fairly low, and I spent most of my time waiting, watching, and occasionally targeting. Fish were working the bottom, mostly in 6+ feet of water, randomly cruising about, so it was a matter of getting a fly out where you hoped it would sink fast enough, they would see it, and actually eat it. I managed a few takes, more refusals, and zero real hookups, but chose not to let it piss me off. By the end of the day I gave them the win. I did see a number of fingerlings, and the state reports stocking just last month.
The bugs weren't too bad except at dusk, it was quiet, and the Milky Way was bright overhead. The next morning I packed up, and before heading out scrabbled up a hillside to look down on the lake basin and north over Rimfire Lake.
Down the gulch and out. I could have stopped to fish below, but ice cream was calling my name.
The road in was unexpectedly rough; definitely high clearance vehicle required. At one point I almost turned around as it was becoming a brush tunnel, and I didn't want to scrape up my (too) nice car, but figured that was preferable to risking my man card. It actually wasn't that bad after all. From the trailhead, it's 1200' of steepish trail to a small lake where the real fun begins. There were actively feeding Cutthroat along the shore, and I surely would have been able to catch some, but wanted to get on to the main attraction. Boulder hop around the lake and head up "Iodine Gulch." You ascend creek bed, boulder field and steep meadow, then traverse another half mile to the lake basin.
There's lots to like about this spot aside from the lakes and fishing. A rock nerd will get a kick out of the E-W transition from metamorphosed sedimentary to intrusive granitic bedrock and the ways they intermingle. I even learned a new word; Trondhjemite. Sounds mystical! Lots of nice wildflowers of course.
From the basin there is a scramble route to the distant popular summit. I skipped that for another day, but did work up to the first high point to enjoy the view.
And yes, I spent lots of time fishing. At least four of the lakes were stocked in 2019. They get a fair amount of pressure from human and avian predation. A couple I talked to had watched a successful Osprey hunt the previous day, and one of the fish I saw had a large obvious wound on its back. Numbers seemed fairly low, and I spent most of my time waiting, watching, and occasionally targeting. Fish were working the bottom, mostly in 6+ feet of water, randomly cruising about, so it was a matter of getting a fly out where you hoped it would sink fast enough, they would see it, and actually eat it. I managed a few takes, more refusals, and zero real hookups, but chose not to let it piss me off. By the end of the day I gave them the win. I did see a number of fingerlings, and the state reports stocking just last month.
The bugs weren't too bad except at dusk, it was quiet, and the Milky Way was bright overhead. The next morning I packed up, and before heading out scrabbled up a hillside to look down on the lake basin and north over Rimfire Lake.
Down the gulch and out. I could have stopped to fish below, but ice cream was calling my name.
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