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I don't even know where to start! I do these trips to experience new places and see what's out there...and sometimes even catch a fish or two, eh. But these last few days have been whippingly crazy. I say "whippingly" because I'm beat! Morrison, the dogs and I took off from Winnemucca, NV for Willow and Whitehorse Crks., in SE Oregon, not really knowing what to expect. It was frustrating, upsetting, wonderful and awakening, all in a couple days.
So, I'll try to keep this short. We were denied access to the Whitehorse Ranch, and left to explore the back roads in a low clearance wagon on our own. Turns out most of Whitehorse Crk. is now owned by the ranch. The canyon, which is labeled as BLM on my maps, is now private property. Access depends on the owner of the ranch, who didn't make his money ranching and has been best described as "moody." We found some wonderful hot springs to camp at, off the Whitehorse Ranch Rd., and were a few miles from Willow Crk. Morrison and I enjoyed the springs, and found our way to Willow Crk., which is fenced from grazing cattle, and has some wonderful sedgie, willowy and sturdy banks. We drove as far as we could until hitting deep ruts, then walked for about two miles and fished a beaver pond embellished area. And on my fifth cast, I landed my first Willow Crk. Cutt.! It was a beautiful little 6-incher, that took a Bison Bead Nymph of no particular design. Morrison and I were soon in to several fish, but then nothing hit for a while. It took an hour or so to figure out they were in the deepest sections of the ponds, and only in certain ponds. Finally, I got what I thought was a decent representation of the fish, just as the sun reached the top of the mountains to the west.
The next day, we drove several more miles on rough, rocky roads, but made it to Little Whitehorse Crk., which was on BLM land, and much of it in a Wilderness study area (Why one has to study to see if an area is considered "wilderness" is beyond me!). This area was not fenced from cattle, and the banks were mostly thistle, dirt, and sometimes grass. The banks were unstable, except in a few areas where the thick willows held the banks up, but made fishing very difficult. I walked downstream and quickly found two fish, one I spooked the other sat rather still at the base of a knee-deep pool. I went back and got Morrison. I was very excited in anticipating a quick recording of Little Whitehorse Crk. Cutts. But, it was not to be quick! We didn't find the two fish I previously spotted, and continued our march through thistle and willows, downstream. I picked up two fish and spooked two. I lost another. I was getting desperate. I couldn't afford to not get these fish. Whitehorse Crk. was off limits, and we were running out of water and not seeing many fish. We went upstream and I finally got two more, losing another and seeing a last one that was unreachable with rod and reel. I got the photos I could, and called it a day. The flow on Little Whitehorse was just a trickle, with pools far apart, and fish even more rare. I hooked half the fish I saw!
I think the Little Whitehorse excursion was on Thanksgiving. We celebrated our catches with an elk steak stir fry and a dip in the hot springs, under a crystal clear and still night. It was quite good. The next day we headed for Pyramid Lake.
I've read quite a bit about Pyramid Lake, and caught bretheren of the fish in Washington, but was very excited to catch the largest cutthroat trout in it's native, lake habitat. We were rewarded with big and beautiful fish, but only after long hours of standing in waist-deep water, casting weighted lines and swaying with the oncomming waves. My first fish was the 25-incher pictured below. I couldn't believe my luck, and figured it was going to be a great fish-catching marathon. I was wrong! I hooked another monster in another hour, but lost it at my feet, as it cut my line just as I bent down to pick it up. I landed a smaller, 18-inch fish a couple hours later. Then lost another. I was loosing my mind about the lost fish. I got a third to shore, about 20 inches. The change in fish size was very welcoming, but I was concerned the slow catch-rate would leave me forever casting on the banks of Pyramid Lake, trying to get enough for my book! Not a bad life/afterlife existance for sure, but not good for my publisher, eh. The sunny, clear days had made the fishing a bit slower. I was sure to take time to enjoy the "rocks" along the shore, which were really fossils of ancient reefs. There were sponges, and corrals of all sorts, hard as rocks. The haze from pollution and dust settles in the lake basin, and makes an ominous setting. Quite beautiful. Morrison described our tent site as "biblical."
The next day Morrison put on a fish-catching show, with two fish! I got one. I think the biggest that day was a 22 or so incher that Morrison landed using a grey and white Clouser. The funny thing about that lake, is the local use and worship of the Wooly Worm! They tie them in all sorts of bright colors, but most are just the simple Worm, even without tails. We bought a few from the Reno Fly Shop, and the simple, tailless sparkle chenille Chartruse with white hackle Worm, caught most my fish. Morrison used the white/gray Clouser and a small, Olive Sculpin mostly. Oh, a #10, weighted black mohair leech did pretty well for me, too.
Today, the last day on Pyramid, some clouds snuck in and the day started...well, biblically. I had asked for clouds to come in, the previous day and asked Morrison if she knew any cloud dances we could do. She asked why didn't we just do a biting-fish dance and cut right to the chace. Oh, yeah, I said. Good thinking. And our third morning, our cloud and fish dancing was answered. I hooked the first fish, just before the sun crested over the horizon. I landed it, just after the sun rose. It was a beautiful 22-incher (or so). My second fish came about a half hour later, a smaller 13-incher. Then the third, a larger, and darker fish. Then another dark fish. Then my last, a perfect Pyramid specimen in the low 20s, with chrome sides, olive back and a pink-striped side. I fished for another couple hours but only had a bite, which I missed. I finally reeled in, and we packed camp and are now in Carson City. Tomorrow we head to a trib. to the San Juaquin, just south of Yosemite, looking for the mighty and rare Paiute Cutt. So we're heading from the warm desert and 20-plus inch fish, to a freezing-ass mountainous forest and 6-inch fish. I'm not looking forward to the long hike, or snow, but it must be done. And it is rather fitting that my last Cutthroat sub specie will be hard-earned. If we successfully catch the fish (the biggest problem is finding the damn things), that will be all the photos I need for my book, and I will have caught every subspecie of Cutthroat trout. Rightous.
I appologize for the wierd sequence of pics., but I loaded them as I found them, and don't feel like reorganizing them. I'm tired and ready for bed! I will check in again after California, eh!!!!



Above: An angler totes his chair to the shores of Pyramid Lake
Below: Little Whitehorse Creek Canyon



Above: Anglers sit on ladders in Pyramid Lake (I caught more fish than all three of these guys combined)
Below: A Lahontan Cutt. desides not to stick around to get its picture taken, as Mojo wishes he had fins.



Above: Mojo pointing a beautiful Lahontan Cutt. from Pyramid Lake.
Below: A Willow Crk. Cuttie.

Above: Morrison fishes Little Whitehorse Crk., a HUGE tributary to Whitehorse Crk. (which is private and I can't fish).
Below: A Little Whitehorse Crk. Cutt.

Above: The road leading to Willow and Little Whitehorse Crks.
Below: My first native Lahontan Cutt. from Pyramid Lake: a measured 25-inches!

P.S. Mike (Hexaholic): I haven't finished my Pent. blank. I bought some black sewing thread and fingernail polish, and have it about half-wrapped, which I did with my breath freezing in the tent while camped near Marys River! I don't know if I'll finish it before we get to the Paiutes, but I hope I do.

Dave,

Thanks for wishing us well! Yes, the ladder thing was very interesting. I have several theories on it: You don't wade much farther than without a ladder, you can maybe cast another 20'-30' farther once on top, but the major "drop" in the shoreline is maybe 10'-20' from where you can comfortably wade (where we were fishing). So, you can cast a bit farther and stay a bit warmer from a ladder. But, the negatives to me are: you are higher up, and possibly prohibit fish from getting too close (like a stork or something), and you are stationary, and less likely to explore more of the shoreline. I walked around 100 yards of the bank to find small depressions, vegetation and a few rocks that might increase fish-catching. And (this is the biggest point Morrison, Mojo and myself all agree on) it doesn't matter. The fish bite when they feel like biting! They cruise around somewhat localized areas (it seems), and you catch fish in sort of a rythm. You can cast 90' and catch a fish from a ladder, or you can cast 50' while wading, and catch the same number of fish. Actually, we kept an eye on it, and it seems we only got out-fished by some locals to our right, who were fishing some Cottonwood snags, some were spin fishing and some were fly fishing, but they were all wading. I talked to one of the local spin fishers on our second day, and he explained there was a freshwater spring just off shore that kept fish there "all the time." The snags were good cover, and the drop off was closer there, than if you kept heading to the north bays and points (where most the ladder guys were). I think that was key, as in my left-to-right wanderings on shore, I found I caught more fish closer to where the guy said the spring was. How the hell do you find that out?! Asking locals, I guess, eh. Oh, and a longer rod sure helps, but again, I was casting maybe 60' at most and still hooking fish--usually within 20' of my rod tip, and sometimes right below my rod tip. Morrison said she did best with heavily weighted flies (and a sink tip line), and I was using mostly moderately weighted flies as a dropper and an unweighted fly on point, with an intermediate sinking line. The locals and books suggest heavily weighted shooting heads with unweighted flies. I guess the line scrapes the bottom and your flies cruise just above obstructions. I kinda like bouncing the heavier stuff off the bottom, like a jig, but again: the fish bite when they feel like biting!
I'll let you know how the land of California goes. Hopefully we strike 'er rich, eh

In Wild Waters,

Zac

We did it! Finally. After years of pursuit that finished with a 14-mile round-trip hike, through three canyons with about 1,200' drop in each, 8 of 14 miles of bushwacking with no trail, dehydration setting in so hard my thigh balled up keeping me from hiking for a while, and a trip that started at 8:15a.m. and ended at 11:30p.m., I got the Paiute Cutt., thus ending my pursuit to catch every subspecie of Cutthroat trout!!!

I can't go in to too much detail, as I need to save it for my book, but it was an amazing trip. All of it, through Utah, Nevada, Oregon and even in California. I ended up hiking for the Pauites on my own, well with Mojo and Arielle, but Morrison had to stay at base camp, as her pinky toe was too bruised to hike. I followed my wilderness map closely, until I realized the "unmaintained trail" I was looking for, no longer existed. I hiked about 3/4 of a mile past the supposed turn before deciding I needed to turn around. I guessed my position was close to where the trail was supposed to be, and headed farther in to terra incognito. The pictures below are the results. I wish I had taken more pics., but I was in such a hurry to get in and out, I didn't have time to get everything I wanted, and settled on what I needed. This trip about did me in. I was seriously suffering from dehydration, and barely kept up on my water supply to have enough to get back to camp. If you could have been a beetle on a tree, you would have seen me on my hands and knees, crouched and sipping directly from a spring that emerged at the base of a small rock escarpment, next to Arielle, who wetted her thirst in the dish-sized, life-saving spring. Good stuff--now that I made it out alive

Sorry for the delay in the update, but I sat around and did nothing for a day, trying to rehydrate, then got right in to building a set of four rods for my family and a friend as Christmas presents. With the big day looming, I've been planing away, and just finished glueing. I may make the deadline, yet! Anyway, I hope you enjoy the photos. Thanks for reading my post. I am thinking about going back in time and posting the trip updates I did on my Cuttie trip through Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Oregon and Washington. Some funny stuff there, too...

Above: Arielle resting on a fallen tree that bridged the Paiute stream.
Below: Me holding the second Paiute I caught. Note my head has no hat on it...I lost it on the hike in as it got torn from my pack!

Above: The biggest Paiute I caught. About 10 inches.
Below: The middle-sized one. About 8 inches. Note the lack of spotting on the body! Crazy.

Above: I think this is my biggest Paiute, refusing to sit still for the camera.
Below: Looking downstream. It's hard to tell, as the drop is so steep, the stream dissapears quickly.

That's it for now, eh. Any interest in my Pacific Northwest journey for Coastals, and others? Stephen: I was not able to get up to your neck of the woods. We had to turn around and get back to Wyo. by Dec. 5th, and we both barely made it in time for our separate appointments. I will be back your way next year, however. Possibly next spring.