Lethal injection, ‘Five Pound Bass’ and Buffalo Woman

by Chris Aaland

Part of my youth died Saturday when I tried to fish upper Hermosa Creek a mile or so above the confluence with its East Fork.

The day marked another Daddy-and-Otto adventure, the kind of afternoon that lets Mom stay home with newborn Gus and away from her jealous 4-year-old. We risked a trip up Hermosa, knowing full well that nine miles of the headwaters had been deemed prime water Colorado River cutthroat trout restoration due to a barrier at Hotel Draw. Division of Wildlife releases said the river would be treated with rotenone in early August, but didn’t offer more specific dates.

After driving past riverside campsites teeming with out-of-state visitors, I fully expected to find hungry brook trout waiting to attack my size 14 tan stimulator. I didn’t expect to see an ominous-looking DOW truck pulling a couple of trailers carrying large containers filled with some sort of liquid. Nobody would poison a river during peak tourist season, I thought.

The next bad omen came when rigging my two-weight, 6’6” IM6 graphite fly rod, a sturdy little creek pole given as a wedding present by my good buddy Kyle Deter nine years ago. Kyle named it the “Hermosa Creek Special” after countless camping trips in the San Juan Mountains together; it’s my standard magic wand when casting spells at high country trout. My wife, Shelly, has landed most of her trout on it. Otto has even reeled in a few. I lovingly attached the butt and tip sections, strung my line through the guides and straightened the leader, then stripped out some line and readied my first cast. A crisp cracking broke the silence as the Hermosa Creek Special snapped in two. She’s now relegated to the coffin of its rod case unless I can find a matching tip section for Kyle to rebuild.

Saddened but persistent, I strung my four-weight Orvis instead, made a cast across the Hermosa and watched my fly drift perfectly through the first run. Several more accurate casts followed, with no luck. I repositioned myself and caught a glimpse of a foot-long, silvery-white reflector from the bottom of the pool. Glancing a few feet upstream, I saw a dozen more of the same reflectors, ranging from two to 12 inches. Sadly, I realized the stream already received its lethal injection. There were no live trout to catch.

Like my fly rod that bears its name, Hermosa Creek – or at least the section I spent dozens of days plying its waters – was dead. Rumor has it that the entire project will be completed by 2014, restocked with its native salmonid. Its former population of thousands of brookies plus a smattering of rainbows, browns, cuttbows and cutthroats was now fertilizing the streambed.

We finished our day – and the next, for that matter – on the headwaters of the Animas above Silverton, bringing home a creel full of brookies for a Sunday dinner that would feature a recipe from the latest Edible San Juan Mountains magazine. By the time 2014 rolls around, Otto will be 7 … old enough to cast his own flies. I’m sad he won’t experience the same Hermosa Creek I did, but excited at his chance to learn to fly-fish over native Cutthroats.

A singer who penned the fishing anthem of a generation returns to the Community Concert Hall at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday. Robert Earl Keen, he of “The Five Pound Bass” fame, is back for what’s expected to be another sold-out show. His 16th album, “Ready for Confetti,” is slated for an Aug. 30 release. Throughout his career – which spans three decades and more than a dozen Durango appearances through the years – Keen has walked the thin line between a singing country comedian (think Roger Miller at his peak) and the pensive heir to the throne of Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark. The up-and-coming alt-country songstress Shannon McNally opens.

The Lindells headline a benefit concert for Buffalo Woman Ranch, an equine therapy ranch north of Dove Creek. Proceeds will support ongoing equine-based experimental programs for at-risk youths in the Four Corners. The day includes other local and national songwriters, plus silent auction, food, beverages and tours of the ranch. KSJD Dryland Community Radio and Osprey Packs sponsor the event, which takes place from noon ‘til 7 p.m. Saturday. A $20 donation is suggested. Visit www.buffalowomanranch.com for directions and more information.

This week’s Ska shenanigans include the local rock of Andrea’s Fault at tonight’s Ska-B-Q (Thurs., Aug. 11) and the funky reggae stylings of Shotgun Jesus on Friday. Music runs from 5-7 p.m. each night.

The Summit’s lineup includes DayQuill, RasDwas and DJ Treazon on Friday and Shotgun Jesus on Saturday.

The Starlight’s bill features Salsa Night with DJ Soltron tonight, Kentucky Deluxe doing an FAC from 6-9 p.m. Friday, more dancing with Soltron late-night Friday, Peter Robot Saturday and Musica del Mundo Sunday.

Elsewhere: High Altitude Blues brings just that to the DoubleTree’s Animas River Café from 5-9 p.m. tonight; Kirk James does solo blues at the Brickhouse Café from 10 a.m. ‘til 1 p.m. Friday; Cascade Kinzie works the Irish Embassy Pub at 9 p.m. Friday; Tumblin’ Dice rocks the Derailed Saloon at 9 p.m. Saturday; Pete Giuliani plays Vallecito’s Schank House from 6-10 p.m. Saturday and Trimble Hot Springs from 1-4 p.m. Sunday; and Cascade Kinzie brings indie folk to Riverfront Park at 1 p.m. Sunday at the Food Not Bombs lunch.

This week’s Top Shelf list hypes a half-dozen high country hot spots that will have to do in lieu of Hermosa Creek’s piscatorial purging:
- Lime Creek. Local author/fishing guide Stephen J. Meyers penned an odyssey to these sacred waters, one of my favorite books of all-time.
-  Bear Creek. The one that dumps into the upper Dolores River is accessible both at its headwaters and terminus via short walks.
- Cascade Creek. The hike down to Purgatory Flats is a steep one, but it’s rewarding … especially if you arrive during a Green Drake hatch.
- Piedra River. Lots of hungry browns await your caddis.
- Maggie Gulch. Just outside of Howardsville lies a little gem full of brookies.
- La Plata River. The drought of 2002 wreaked havoc in La Plata Canyon, yet it’s slowly rebounding. And it’s just six miles from my house. n

I see a ripple, I hear a splash? Email me at chrisa@gobrainstorm.net.