Epic Boulder Mountain Trip

The legendary Boulder Mountain has been calling my name all year, but I didn't manage to make it down to that oasis in the middle of a desert until this weekend. Most people who go to Boulder stay a few days, at least, because it's far from almost everything else and getting in to some of the lakes requires a lot of work.

My buddy Mike and I decided to make a day trip out of it - if you can call what we did on Saturday a "day trip." We drove over 450 miles, spent 9 hours in the car, and 10 hours fishing. It was amazing.

We were up at 3, departed at 3:30, and drove through the dawn until we finally got to the base of the 11,000 foot mountain. I knew we were close when I saw this prominent landmark!

Our drive then went off road through a juniper and sage forest that doesn't hint that it gives way to soaring alpine country just a few thousand feet higher on the mountain. 

Anyone familiar with Boulder Mountain is familiar with its infamously horrible roads. After bouncing and crawling along a narrow dirt track stuffed with boulders (gee, I wonder how the mountain got its name?), and thanks to Mike's expert driving, we arrived at the first lake we'd headed out to fish. 

The best part? We had the lake to ourselves! Although the smooth, glassy water looked incredibly tempting, I had to take Mike to one of my secret honey holes on the mountain. After a decently long bush whacking hike, we arrived. 

Over the years, I've found a few amazing places on Boulder and this is one of them by far! We immediately set to fishing this small, fast moving trickle of water. 

A pretty little cutthroat came to hand on the second cast into the base of a waterfall. 

Mike got a cutthroat next, too! He missed one that flashed a nearly 17 inch length at us before swimming away in the same hole he caught this one. 

Then, the brookies started coming. I've caught a few brookies from this stream before, but never this many! 

They were small, but beautiful and feisty! 

We were having a blast fishing this little creek!

After a good hour and a half of messing around with little fish, and watching bigger ones turn their noses up at our offerings, we were almost ready to hit the lakes. I spotted one more hole, though, and Mike and I had to fish it.

As we crowded around the hole, we noticed that two very large fish were sitting on the bottom. One was dark, almost assuredly a brookie, and the other was a nice long cutthroat. Both fish were pushing 18 inches, and both looked hungry. 

They, too, turned their noses up at anything we flashed at them. They just didn't feel like eating! So, eventually Mike found a way to just make the fish mad and provoke a strike. It worked! 

Look at that! A 17 inch brook trout, from a brook! Life doesn't get much better than that!

(Note - the tail is rather forked a tad, which made me think at first this was a splake - brook/lake trout hybrid. Splake could theoretically get into this stream, but they'd have to travel a few miles, through two small creeks and two large reservoirs before ending up in our hands on this creek. Due to that, I'm going to go ahead and say this is a brook trout.) 

After that epic catch, we decided to go try our luck on one of the many lakes we were close too. After a nice little hike, some beef jerky, and boulder hopping, we arrived. 

I'd just missed a fish right as this was taken! 

The lake was gorgeous. We couldn't have picked a better day to go fishing in this magical place. 

I was standing on the shore of this hidden gem, slowly jigging a plastic minnow into shore, when my reel started screaming. I set the hook, and saw the flash of something I thought was a cutthroat. It jumped into the air, but I still couldn't see what it was! 

Then, it got closer and I realized I'd hooked into a feisty tiger trout. It gave me a good fight before it held still for pictures. 

After that catch, we decided it was time to try another little hidden pond. We set out for the water, home to fish in excess of 6 pounds (I've personally seen a 6 pounder from here, and know of people who've caught fish in the 7 pound range). 

Absolutely stunning. Words don't do justice to how majestic this sight is. A small pond, tucked away against a sheer cliff, water dyed green and crystal clear. The air was still and quiet, and I could just feel that primeval connection between man and nature as I stepped onto the springy shore of this small pond. 

For me, fishing isn't really about the fish. It's about cleansing my soul and recharging my spiritual batteries in an ethereal way. Seeing things like this, tucked way and hidden in thick pine and aspen forest, just stirs something in me that I have a hard time describing. I just feel an immense calm and a connection to the thousands of years of men before me who fished for survival, and it's truly humbling. 

Mike and I walked around this lake for a while, and saw large fish cruising the shallows. We threw everything we had at them, and they didn't budge. We broke for lunch, and gave them a go again for another hour or so, and with still no fish to hand, decided to head back to a different lake. 

Those were the first clouds we saw in the sky all day!

As we jigged along the shoreline, I felt something hit my line. I waited, seeing if it would strike again. I didn't feel anything, so I jigged again. As soon as my rod lifted up, I felt a solid weight on the end, like I'd hooked into some weeds. 

Then it started moving, and I realized I had a fish! It had inhaled the jig, apparently, and I had to really manhandle it into shore. 

I couldn't believe the coloration on this splake. It was incredible! So orange and amazing! Just this fish alone made the trip worth it! 

These pictures don't do the fish justice at all. The colors were so deep and vibrant, it looked airbrushed! After we measured the fish (a healthy 18 inches, with a good fat belly) it went back into the water to swim away. 

A few other splake and cutthroat came to hand after that, but nothing of note. We left that lake for one last small creek before heading home. 

Breathtaking! 

After this last brookie came to hand, Mike and I decided to call it a day. We'd seen amazing fish, played in beautiful country, and been up since 3 in the morning (2, in Mike's case). We were ready for home!

As we were loading up the truck, another man who'd been camping near one of the lakes started talking with us. He's fished the mountain since the 70s, and was telling us stories of when they'd bring home stringers of 5 pound brookies. Those days are a distant memory on this legendary mountain, but those fish still swim the cold waters and can be found by the dedicated fisherman. 

Get out and explore it!