A First

Wednesday, July 20th, 2022

This morning I started a hike at 7am. I was at the western inlet of Turquoise Lake near Leadville, Colorado. I left the trailhead and started the climb to Timberline Lake in the Holy Cross Wilderness. The trail climbed for 2.5 miles, gaining 800 feet in elevation. That doesn’t sound to bad, but most of the elevation gain was in the last 3/4 of a mile. Any time you hike at 10,000 to 11,000 feet, you will be short of breath. I thought it would be a good workout that would include some great mountain scenery.

An additional attraction to the hike, was the potential to catch a Colorado Greenback Cutthroat trout. That might not mean a whole lot to most people, but to me it had some significance. So, I tied on a fishing rod and reel to my daypack, and started walking.

In 1975, I made my first trip to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. I visited Rocky Mountain National Park. I had fishing gear along and tested the waters of the park in a number of locations. Like many visitors there, I drove up to Bear Lake. The lake is high up and surrounded by glacially carved peaks. Looking into the crystal clear waters of the lake, I could see trout. But alas, you could not fish there. There were signs warning that these trout were of the Greenback Cutthroat variety, and they were protected. The Greenbacks originally populated the lakes and streams of the Front Range of Colorado. However, over the years, they disappeared. In 1973, they were listed as an endangered species when the small population was found in the park. To protect them, you could not even practice “catch and release”. You were just not allowed to fish the waters where they had been found.

Over the years the small population flourished and eventually were transplanted to some of the high mountain lakes and streams of their former range. Now, you can fish for them, but any you catch must still be released. Due to their limited range, and the location of populations, most people will not be able to catch one. It is work getting to where they are at. Most of those places do not have access for the internal combustion engine. To get their takes muscle power.

The trail was rocky, occasionally crossing small side streams, usually with boulders and rocks placed so as to avoid getting your feet wet. For old-timers like me, a pair of trekking poles helped to keep balance. Both sides of the trail were covered in wild flowers, the majority being red Indian Paintbrush. Rufous Hummingbirds buzzed back and forth. I only saw one other person, a trail runner, who was traveling the Colorado Trail, and missed the intersected, ending up on my trail by accident. He passed me and came to an abrupt halt when his GPS alerted him that he was off route. I gave him directions back to the fork in the trail.

Once I made the last steep climb, the lake came into view. I set up my rod, and on the 4th or 5th cast, hooked my first Greenback Cutthroat of 14 inches. It was the only one I caught in the hour I fished. It was enough.

There is this thing that has become popular lately called the “Bucket List”. It is a list you might have that includes events, actions, or places that you want to accomplish or see in your life. I think it becomes mostly relevant for those of us who are in our late years. It is a list of experiences we want to have in our remaining few years. I don’t have a bucket list. I have experienced many wonderful things in my life, and I don’t maintain a list of those not accomplished. I have the bucket, not the list. I like the idea of surprises for the bucket. For me it is the things you didn’t imagine that make the contents of the bucket most valuable. So the thought of the Greenback Cutthroat went into the bucket. Nothing needed to get scratched off a list.

Here is to hoping the bucket gets full, and I need another.

“Fill your life with tiny and large adventurous moments.”  Sark