Golden Trout Wilderness, California

      It has been a couple of years since I fished for the legendary California Golden trout. Terrific fly fishing can be done in the Golden Trout Wilderness near the Sequoia National Forest, outside of a little town called Springville, California.

      Many locations are remote and require a camping trip. You can hike in, or ride a horse. I even suggest a pack horse excursion by contacting Golden Trout Pack Trains. 

         I had my own unique way of getting into the area. I know a rancher, Bill Shannon, who has grazing rights in the area, and has his own packs, supplies, horses, and even a very - with emphasis on very - rustic cabin not far from the Kern River. In fact - Bill cut all the wood to build it, using only a chain saw!

 We met in front of the Golden Trout Pack station and loaded our gear. We began the hot and dusty summer ride, about two to three hours to his high Sierra camp. We arrived in early afternoon - and settled in.

    At the time, I did not have a fly rod that was very portable by horse, so I took my spinning rod (which could be broken down) and a few lures. After we got a bite to eat, my brother-in-law Jeff and I walked a few hundred yards to one of the many small brooks that feed the Kern River. The trout are very small, but also very aggressive. We caught a fish on just about every cast. We released them all. I had hoped to catch my first California Golden trout, and I was not disappointed. 

They have a very distinct golden color and ovals down their sides. You can see a couple in my pictures. Just getting pictures was a challenge. If you bring an expensive camera, make sure you protect it very well. The trail is quite dusty. Dirt gets into places you never thought possible, and can ruin your camera, as well as fly reels etc. Plus, there is no way to re-charge batteries, so all I had with me was a cell phone (for which there was no service). But at least it was easy to carry, and I could get a few pictures before the battery ran out. 

       Back at camp that night Bill told us about some of the high sierra lakes that are about another hour's ride from his cabin. He pointed out nearby peaks where the lakes are located. The fishing there is supposed to be even more spectacular than along the small brooks where we had been that day. The fish are bigger and the scenery even more breathtaking. But that would have to wait until another day.

   The next day Bill had an evening ride planned for us. We rode across a meadow where you can still find remnants of old Indian tribes and camps. There is evidence of things like sea shells and obsidian arrow heads - each indicating that tribes from the east and west had come to this location to trade goods.

   We finally arrived along a bigger stretch of the main fork of the Kern river. Bill keeps a fly rod at the cabin and let me use it. I wasn't even sure of the correct bugs to copy, nor did I have any of my collection of flies with me. Bill gave me a black one that looked like a good old fashioned Royal Coachman. He said he always had good luck with it, and pointed to a hole for me to cast into. I did, and had a fish immediately.

    I went on to catch half a dozen more. Soon it was about dark, and we needed to begin the ride back to camp. Bill had planned for a moonlight ride. Before I left the water I cast one more time - and hooked another golden trout. He got tangled in my net after I brought him in. The hook came out by itself, and I let it fall into the water while I untangled the fish. The next thing I knew, another trout had hit the dangling fly line, so I had one on the line, and another in the net! No kidding!

   We packed up and began our moon lit ride through the forest back to camp. Bill picked a perfect night. The sky was clear. There were a million stars. And there was a full moon. It was like having a street light on. You could actually see shadows cast by the pines. Nobody spoke much. We all just rode along to the sound of the horse's hooves plodding along. 

       We finally got near camp and could see light from a campfire up ahead. It was nice that somebody got the fire going for us, except there was nobody back at camp to get it going. So we rode in with a bit of caution. Pretty soon Bill hollered out, "Steve - Zat you?" And a voice returned, "Hey Bill. Where ya'll been."

   Turned out it was Steve Uecker, son of of baseball Hall of Fammer Bob Uecker. Steve is a real life cowboy. He often rides the area in his black duster and chaps. He has a side kick named Half Pint. They are a unique team. Steve is a big man - well over six feet tall, probably close to 6' 5", I'd guess. Half Pint must be 5' 6" at best, but Steve swears he's the toughest cowboy he knows.

    They sleep in bed rolls under the stars and ride the range like real cowboys. Once in camp they updated Bill on a few head of cattle they had seen the day before, and told us about a massive grizzly they had encountered - but avoided as best they could. Uecker is full of stories and jokes. He loves to tell jokes. 

     That night Bill cooked up Elk that he had shot up in Canada. I'm not sure what the ingredients included, but it was awesome. And then we all sat around the campfire and listened to Ueker tell his jokes and stories.
    The next day it was time to head back to civilization. Steve and Half Pint helped us saddle up the horses and load the packs.
    There is a lot of fishing to do, and many locations I have not yet ventured to in the Golden Trout Wilderness, but with any luck, Bill will have me back, and we'll try our luck again some time. I was certainly glad he invited me for this trip.