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It's Fall Fishing Time on the San Gabriel River's East Fork--Grab Your Rod and Flys Now

I’m tied umbilicaly to the East Fork of the San Gabriel River. Some of my earliest memories are of fishing the stretches of this wild river within a short walking distance of where my mother lived as a young girl ( at Camp Williams and Camp Roberts). I came of age fishing this stream from its confluence up to Prarie Forks-- a near 20 mile trek up the canyon.

Some of my best memories are of fall fishing trips to the east fork. Even though flow levels are down, the trout are still there. And at this time oif year, if you’re willing to stuff you fly wallet with a selection of flys you think will match the afternoon hatch, there’s an excellent chance of having an 11 or 12-inch native born bow, dance and try its hardest to pop your tippet.

My mentor for fishing this twinkling stream was my grandfather-- a wildlands surveyor and self-taught naturalist name Bill Sele. One of he first things he taught me were two impe concepts: successful tout fishing on the East Fork is about observing what insects are at hand; and, make your first casts from as far away as possible so as not o spook the fish.

My favorite rigs for East Fork fly-fishing is a seven foot, limber tipped, rod and 4X or 6X tippets tied in front of three feet of leader. My fly wallet’s inventory has remained unchanged for nearly thirty years: midges, humpbacks, deer flys and a selection of nymphs on #18-22 barb less hooks. Plus, I’ve always carried a couple of egg hooks and a fresh bottle of Pautzke’s premium salmon eggs for those rare days when I can’t get a tout to rise to a fly.

Fall is a good time to fish the San Gabriel River’s East Fork. Lower stream flows makes crossing the streambed easier and the river last week was clear enough to see trout lying in the bottom of several pools two to three miles upstream of the parking lot at the East Fork Ranger Station.

I stopped up water from the first pool I came to and lifted river stones to see what kind of insects were present. Two slaps at bugs buzzing beside my ear convinced me that my old standy, a midge on a #18 hook was in order and two roll casts later I saw a small dink rainbow suck the fly into its mouth.I’m not a meat fisherman so I released the little fellow back into the east fork and noted a school of about 15 similar sized trout finning their way along the edge of the pool.

Seeing that many dinks in the East Fork within two miles of the trail head always gives me hope. And my favorite trout hole on this stresm I about three miles up the river, adjacent to the foundations of an old powder house. Slthough the East Fork’s flow rate is down, I could see dark shapes with flashes of silver twinkling in three feet of water in the pond.

I tied a #16 nymph onto my line and snapped it into an upstream rill and watched my fly get immediately hit by a slashing bolt of silver the rocketed off the bottom. Alas, no joy, I felt the weight of the fish and saw its silver side dash into some streamside rocks. My tippet broke but I’m convinced I’ll find this same fish again later this year when I come go back up the East fork for a spiritual recharge.

As I progressed further up the canyon I noticed the insects were getting bigger. After a two hour hike I reached the rills and pools under Swan Rock. The pool there was alive with jumping dink trout several of which appeared to be colorful enough to be natïve born ‘bows.

I’m always amazed at southern Caliornia anglers dashing up I-5 or up to Bishop to get one last cast in before the end of the season. The East Fork of the San Gabriel River is only 40 miles from downtown LA.

Although there are big trout there, the East Fork is a spiritual--not a creel filling-- experience.

I’m a third-generation East Fork fishermen. If you’re looking to close out the 2010 Fishing year, give this stream some attention. And if you see an old dude wearing ratty cutoff jeans, worn thin tennis shoes and a red, white and blue tie dye, say “Hi!, that’s me--Jim Forbes on 09/26/2010.

using the San Gabriel River's East Fork to Beat Beat Triple Digit Heat

As temps climb into triple digits I’m reminded that I’m only three  guides down a fly rod connecting me to a long stringer  of trout fishermen on both sides of my family. So, inspired by nothing more obvious than a need to cool beside fish filled snow melt, I drove up to my natal stream, the East Fork of the San Gabriel River a short drive up highway 39 from my home town of Azusa, CA.

I may be an East Fork bigot. I learned how to fish on its banks and stand firmly embraced by its cold waters. But more importantly, even if I’ve only caught and released a brace of small rainbow “shakers,” it’s never let me down.

And so it came to be, that sweltering in 100 degree heat by the East Fork’s side I carefully stashed my rod, reel and wallet in a cache on the side of a mountain and waded into a small pool, and took a brisk float down stream.

Bobbing down the East Fork is something I’ve done since childhood. Even when air temps hit 100 in its oak-scented canyon floor; the water is cold enough to support resident trout populations and to remind you that its source is snow melt, high up on Mount Baldy, Burro Peak and Iron Mountain.

I can reconnect with this Los Angeles County treasure in distances as short as hundreds of yards. If you climb into the stream for a short float, expect to emerge with five to eight ounces of sand and fine gravel in your shorts and goose bumpy skin. But, in just a few short minutes I walked back to my cached rod, reel, fishing license and wallet renewed for another hour of pleasant fly fishing.

The area I most often fish on the East Fork is about four miles upstream of the trail head at the ranger station. However after failing to get any trout to rise to either of my most trusted flies;--a #16 midge and a tinier #20 nymph—I headed back down to my Kia Hamster van in the lot, thinking I’d try one more spot before I returned home.

One of my favorite “not so secret” spots on the San Gabriel is the confluence of the East and West Fork with the San Gabriel Dam. I parked in the lot on the side of the East Fork Road, climbed down to a flood sculpted stream and flipped my midge fly into the somewhat milky waters of the East Fork.  No hits, so I switched to my nymph, letting it settle down before working a slow retrieve. Although there was enough movement in the water initially o make me want to fish a small rill, I was unprepared for a monstrous hit on my line.

The fish played me and headed down stream. Wadding down the edge of the current I watched my line briefly vanish in front of small jagged  rocks. I eased my rod tip up,  to force the fish back into the current. I saw the fish for an instant, right before it dislodged my fly.

My creel was empty so I hiked back up the path to my car.

Fishing the East Fork, It’s a spiritual thing. It’s not a trip to the fish mongers. Sometimes you get fish. Sometimes the fish laugh at you.,—Jim Forbes on 07/18/2010/

There Really Is Gold on the East Fork of the San Gabriel River-- But You Have to Know Where to Look!

Writing about fishing on the East Fork of the San Gabriel River is something I’ve come to enjoy. I learned how to fly fish on this year-round trout fishery and some of my most memorable camping experiences have been on the East Fork, north of its peculiar Bridge to Nowhere, which as you might suspect from its name, goes nowhere.

But camping and fishing aren’t the only activities associated with this stream and part of the Angeles National Forest.

There’s another highly addictive and sometimes rewarding hobby that’s ardently pursued there—recreational golf prospecting.

Growing up in eastern Los Angeles County in the tiny town of Azusa, I was exposed to a lot of myths about gold on the East Fork and I may have been the most gullible baby boomer ever to shirk my way into a pack when it comes to stories of Gold in this stretch of the canyon.

Rumors however are often based in truth and the ground truth about Gold on the East Fork is very true. There’s gold in this stream which is only about 40 miles from the Los Angeles civic center and there’s been more than one strike in this section of the Angeles National Forest. In fact there have been two rushes on the East Fork since the mid-19^th Century and the thing about gold is this: no one ever gets it all.

Don’t look to me to provide earth coordinates on East Fork gold deposits. The fun thing about looking for gold is the scientific part of the search.

Some background:  one of the richest strikes on the East Fork was made at the Allison Mine—located on the west slope of Mt Baldy above the confluence of Iron Fork and the East Fork, upstream from the Bridge to Nowhere.

Hiking into the remains of the Allison is not for the faint of heart, (or anyone else at risk of sudden cardiac failure). It’s a long climb up the side of Mt Baldy through never ending piles of decomposed granite and shattered breccia. There are no water sources on this “trail” but there are a lot of rattle snakes that really don’t like to be disturbed. But it’s a fun hike if you want to see the San Gabriel wilderness at its best; big horn sheep roam freely here and where there are bighorn, you also stand a great chance of seeing their predators. A word of warning; mountain lions are not benign kitty cats and this is the only section of the East Fork where I’ve shared the trail with more than one cougar in one day.

Now back to East Fork gold. Much of the East Fork’s gold was found in granite or other native stone, so if you’re interested in hard rock prospecting, do take the time to crack open ore you find deposited in natural slides, and catch basins coming down to the East Fork from Allison Gulch. I also suspect that the fine gravel in this watershed holds gold—assuredly not placer nuggets, but rather flour or large particulate flakes. How do I know this?

It’s where I’ve found gold and it’s where San Gabriel gold miner and historian, Sedley Peck, told me he had found gold there too.

If you’re idea of succumbing to the Gold bug is to spend a couple of hours washing pans of pay dirt, the East Fork north of the Iron Fork Confluence is the place to try. Over the years I’ve pulled out a couple of nice two- and three-gram nuggets from this area and I’m very sure there’s still gold there and further down closer to the East Fork narrows. Camping high up on the East Fork is extremely pleasant. It’s unlikely you’d share a campground (at the Narrows or at Iron Fork) with anyone else and both stretches of water here have hold over populations of tasty native rainbow trout.

There’s another section of the East Fork I believe is auriferous—the stretch of water right at the base of Swan Rock (which is downstream from the Bridge to Nowhere).

The trek to Iron Fork may be one of the prettiest hikes in the San Gabriel Mountains. It’s an approximate nine-mile hike to Iron Fork and the first six miles requires multiple river crossings, so bring extra socks and sturdy tennis shoes. Always check in and out at the East Fork Ranger Station and let a friend know when you expect to return. A Forest Service Day use Pass is required and can be purchased at the information kiosk on highway 39 at the mouth of Azusa Canyon.—Jim Forbes 05/01/2010.

Spring East Fork San Gabriel River Fishing Report; Fat Rainbows For the Creel

My loyal corps of fish scouts working the East Fork of the San Gabriel River have been calling this week with exciting messages. Although there’s no cotton grown anywhere near Azusa, CA<, the fish are jumping. Right from the water into the creels.

My two most reliable San Gabriel River fishing scouts checked in this week with very good news, near limit fishing from trips up the East Fork and to waters underneath the East Fork bridge off Highway 39.

Both of my buddies are pretty serious water whipping fly fishermen, but if you look in their creels closely you’ll find not only selections of backup flies, 4X and 6X tippet leaders but also split shot and—dare I reveal it—Pauztkes Balls of Fire premium salmon eggs.

When it comes to fishing both of my buddies are serious trout hunters.

Fishing high up on the East Fork “has ne’er been better, laddy” teased longtime east fork fisherman Scotsman Bill C.

“But you need to get up there before all the spring fatties are caught.” I think I’m already sorry I showed him my two super-secret spots on the East Fork, although I think I’ll make it up there this week to make sure that, like the legendary Dude, fat local rainbows still “abide.”

While it’s possible to take trout almost anywhere on the East Fork up river from the East Fork Ranger Station, there are two under fished sections I want to write about.

The first is a small pond that sits behind an old stone damn about two miles up from the Ranger Station. Over the last 40 years, this little pond has been my go-to-place to catch a few trout for the evening frying pan. This small pond is one of the few places on the river where you can cast a fly on a long tippet without worrying about adding fishing decorations to the oaks and other mountain hardwoods that are at stream side.  Or best results, go upstream and float your fly into the deepest edges of the pond (on it’s right side,  facing downstream, then work the fly up water through the series of rills that feed this pond. One of the reasons I really love this water is because every third or fourth fish appears to be a native East Fork trout with a flashy Chinese red stripe on its side.

Unsur whether the trout in your net is a hatchery raised stocker, or a native? If the colors seem bight, and it fights tooth and nail all the way to the side of the stream, it’s most likely a native.  If it’s small, gently release it and maybe you’ll catch it as a two-pound adult next year.

I’m not always a catch and release fisherman on streams that produce limits, but if I think the fish can do the native gene pool some good, back it goes. It’s this philosophy that has lead me to carry two sets of flies when I fish the east Fork; barbed and barbless.

There is another great spot on the East Fork to whet your appetite for fly fishing that’s within 45 miles of downtown Los Angeles. That spot is approximately four.5 miles up the East Fork at the base of a stone formation locally known as “Swan Rock.”

Swan Rock is just downstream from the aptly named “Bridge to Nowhere” and it should be on the list of trout fishing destinations for all East Fork fishermen,] except those who are on the river at the same time as I am.

In my 61st year, I encourage everyone to fly fish, but, this stretch has yielded many fine fat rainbows on salmon eggs, floated down the side of the stream for members of my family as well as me.

With stream flows ebbing from yearly high flow, now is also the time to slog through the numerous crossings needed to trek up to Iron Fork and beyond. The nine-mile hike to Iron Fork isn’t for the feint hearted. It involves numerous stream crossings and a gain in elevation of more than 1,000 feet. But once you’re upstream of the “Bridge to Nowhere” the water is normally yours’ alone. There are several spots to hit near the confluence of the Iron Fork and the East Fork. The first: an icy stretch just north of the confluence of the two streams and the second; westerly up the Iron Fork. Hiking up the Iron Fork , as soon as you see a spot on this frigid creek that makes you dream of sliding down a boulder into the water, resist the temptation an take a moment to scout the water in the pool that caught your eye in the first place. That pool may be the best spot on all of the San Gabriel to tussle with a large native rainbow whose genetic heritage stretches back to ocean running steel heads trout that made this watershed their home before two dams blocked access to the Pacific.

Don’t’ believe me? Quietly cast a fly in this pond and see what happens! but don’t be surprised when something akin to a finned freight train snaps your tippet.

Don’t think you’re up to making a nine mile hike all the way up to Iron Fork? Then grb your rod, reel and kids, drive north on highway 39 to the East Fork bridge, par and pick your way down to the confluence of the San Gabriel Damn with the East and West Forks and toss a salmon egg weighted with a slit shot into the ageless flowing waters and patiently wait for a tug on your line.  With Spring here, mature stockers aged in the dams waters wait anxiously to begin genetically imprinted spawning runs, upstream past sand babks where it’s still possible to catch a tasty limit of healthy rain bow trout. And it’s all within a short 90-minute drive of LA Civic Center. Even better, it’s a year–round fishery.—Jim Forbes, a second generation East For fisherman, on 03/25/2010.

Disclosure: A fishing license is required to take trout on the East and West Fork as well as in the actual San Gabriel River. A day use pass (which can be purchased at the US Forest Service kiosk at the beginning of Azusa Canyon Road) is also required.

If you park your car at the East Fork Ranger Station, or near the Bighorn Sheep or East Fork Bridges, make sure all valuables- are secured out of view and your car is securely locked. Moreover, do not leave snacks such as Winchell’s’ or Yum Yum donuts where black or brown bears can smell or see them. Unless you really want to see how a bear can disassemble a car in mere minutes in search of a tasty snack)

East Fork San Gabriel Canyon Summer Trout Report and Suggested Fishing Spots

A handful of my dedicated field scouts who regularly fish the East Fork of the San Gabriel River in Azusa Canyon checked in this week reporting that rainbows are biting about three miles upstream from the East Fork Ranger Station and even further in a series of under fished pools and fast rills upstream of Iron Fork Creek and the East Fork. Although no one is catching limits, anyone who ties a nymph pattern on their fly line’s tippet and lets it drift through the rills is getting hit by acrobatic trout.

One of the reasons I always recommend the Iron Fork/East Fork confluence is because it’s under fished and loaded with healthy bright silver rainbow with crimson flashes. Although it’s an approximate nine to ten-mile hike up the East Fork the pools above the Iron Fork are cold enough to pen significant numbers of hold over trout well through the end of summer. This section of my natal stream is the jewel of the Angeles National Forest.

 It has trout, unparalleled scenery, and placer gold deposits that have washed down from the western slopes of nearby Mt. Baldy.

It’s not uncommon to have two or three hits in one hour here and even the most dedicated fly fisherman should think about carrying a bottle  of Pautzkie’s salmon eggs as well as some egg hooks and split shot if you’re looking for trout to put in a pan and you can’t find a fly pattern that works.

Two other stretches of the East Fork have been producing trout this summer:

The first is the small creek that joins the East Fork down stream from the  old wooden bridge that marks the entrance to Big Horn canyon (which will forever be known to me by the name it was known by when I was young, "Cattle Canyon"). The most productive way to fish this small tributary is to hike one-half mile to one mile up the canyon and drop a nymph into the stream and let it carry down stream into a pool.  Then work your fly back up through the pool and stream, paying attention to the occasional bump of a hungry trout cautiously feeding below the surface.

The second spot that my field scouts say is producing right now  is the confluence of the East Fork and the tail waters of the  San Gabriel Dam. This section of the canyon may be one of the San Gabriel River’s most productive sections. It has several things working for it-- large numbers of stocked trout that are carried down stream, fast flowing cold water, and, most of all, holdover populations of trout from the waters behind the dam (including a small resident population of brown trout that were introduced decades ago to control the dam’s burgeoning bluegill population).

If you’re a trout fisherman in Los Angeles County you don’t need to drive 200 or 300 miles to the Sierras to get a line wet. Excellent trout fishing is right at hand. Just take the 210 Freeway to Azusa Avenue (Highway 39), go up the canyon and turn right at the East Fork Bridge.  There’s plenty of open water, ample rainbow trout and abundant unspoiled scenery. Give it a try but leave a few acrobatic rainbows for me.—Jim Forbes 08/07/2009.

 

n.b. Valid California Fishing License and a Forest Service Day Pass are required (and must be dispayed on your car). the pass can be purchased for a few dollars at the Forest Service hut on the south side of the San Gabriel Canyon Road as you enter the canyon.

First '09 Trout Opener Reports-- Fuller Lake and East Fork San Gabriel Dam Confluence Both Recommended

I’m singin’ those “Sierra Trout Season Opening Day, Cause I’m stuck in San Diego Again” Blues this morning.

I hate when  my two best trout scouts call me long distance to tell me they caught quick limits by 10 AM, and are “going to nap.” It’s calls like this from members of the “Neener-Neener Brigade” that makes me want to take them  out albacore fishing and have a little game of “Pay Back” by innocently reaching over with my fishing pliers and accidentally cutting their line when they’re trying to land an albie in my boat.

I really wouldn’t do that, but I have thought about it.

But my buddies are pretty excited about the ‘09 trout season. The angler who turned me on to Fuller Lake, (which is about 10 miles east of Grass Valley, CA on Highway 20), reported he limited out in less than an hour, hooked a lot of trout but returned everything under 13-inches. John P. doesn’t lie about fish so I expect he has a stringer of big fat rainbows and one or two large spring brownies—which are most often caught at Fuller at the inflow of a small creek not far from the old Auburn Rod and Gun club building.

He told me that the best producing fly so far have been midges tied to #20 hooks and woolies on #14’s. I wish I were there right now, or,

Fishing the East Fork of the San Gabriel River at its sand and rock-rilled confluence with the San Gabriel Dam.

Occasional fly fishing partner Billy C (a highland Scot who lives in Arcadia CA) told me this morning that the rainbows are surging up from the San Gabriel Dam in what he assumes are “spring spawning runs.”

The East Fork is my natal fishing stream. I may pop up there next week for a couple of hours; since it’s unlikely I will be able to get up to the Sierra for at least two weeks.

You don’t need a lot of skill or expensive equipment to fish anywhere on the East Fork. My “outfit” consists of a pair of cut-offs, my good luck, but ripped savagely by my young cat, “Dan, “green, pink and yellow tie dye t-shirt and a pair or nasty old Converse athletic shoes. I fish the East Fork with a seven-foot limber rod, and a 6x tippet in front of a nymph tied to a #18 hook or midges on smaller hardware. I also carry a small selection of deerfly and other patterns, but most of my luck on the East Fork has always been with nymphs or midges.

Oh the horror: I’ve also been known to use bait at the confluence of the East Fork and the San Gabriel Dam. My best results have always been with Pautzkie’s premium salmon eggs on a laser sharpened egg hook attached to an unweighted line floated down stream. If the rainbows are there, they’re likely to hit a salmon egg when everything else fails and when they do, don’t be surprised when they go aerial or head down towards the dam.

And that’s this years first report on fishing at Fuller Lake and on the East Fork of the San Gabriel River at  it’s confluence with the San Gabriel Dam.  Happy Fishing!—Jim Forbes 04/25/2009.

The San Gabriel River's West Fork-- Fun Bicycle Fishing for Young and Old.

  

A stretch of the Almost Wild West Fork, pools, rills and trout (photo Local Hikes Inc.)

While most of writing about Los Angeles Countytrout fishing is limited to posts about the San Gabriel River’s East Fork, there are other venues to catch rainbows.

            The much smaller West Fork here for example. Fed by a small handful of streamlets from drainages to the west of highway 39 in the Angeles National Forest, as well as a small discharge from Cogswell Dam, the West Fork of the San Gabriel River offers great access, clear cold water and stretches of barbless-hook-only catch and release fishing.

            While I’ve seldom caught West Fork trout longer than 12 inches, this stream is a fabulous place to introduce novices to fly fishing, or to merely strap a fly rod and fly wallet on the back of a mountain bike and explore a phenomenal primitive riparian habitat. One word of caution: be sure to pack in enough drinking water to remain well hydrated since there is no drinking water on the near nine mile well marked trail up to Cogswell dam.

            Mountain bikes are the best way to explore the West Fork. Park your car near the gate and begin pedaling up the trail. There are several great places to get your line wet, trying to tease native or other rainbows into taking a fly. Most of the West Fork’s best fishing spots begin about five miles up the trail in a series of small rills that flow into sandy bottoms or small rocky ponds. Overgrown streamside brush most often necessitates tight roll casts or side casting. My best results have always been with light five foot tippets and small midge or mosquito pattern flies tied on # 16, 18 or 20 barbless hooks. Because the West Fork is overgrown for much of it’s length, I use a custom six-foot, three-inch, fly rod with a soft tip.

            The combination of small flies that match insect patterns, a light tippet and a rod with a soft tip has worked well for me on the West Fork. So have a bicycle, short pants, a mood expressing t-shirt my ancient JC Penney tennis shoes, as well as a packed lunch, two bottles of cold water and the unshakeable belief that you’re will catch a huge trout, this trip.

            Alas, while you’re almost certain to get a few hits on your fly, when you manfully rip lips, what you most often catch are little five or six inch dinks. But there are bigger fish here; you just need to keep your eyes open for pools near small water falls, confluences of small year-round inflows, and dark objects darting in and out of the dappled shadows.

            Do make sure to load your fly wallet with an assortment of insect patterns on small barbless hooks. The insect hatch on Midspring mornings has to be seen to be believed.  So do the trout, jumping for their food from a brain-freezingly cold wild stream.

            I’ve always fished the West Fork using barbless hooks and catch and release techniques. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. I always come back with more flies in my wallet than I started with.  You find those expensive flies in overhanging branches or deep inside stream side poison oak bushes.

            But at the end of any West Fork fishing trip with young novices, there’s always the near seven or eight-mile  high speed coast back down the trail, then highway 39 down to Azusa, for a late lunch at Carmens’, La Tolteca or In-N-out, all on Azusa Avenue.—Jim Forbes on 2/07/2007

Fine Fall Fishing Except for the Gold Dredgers-- up on the East Fork

I took a quick trek up the East Fork of the San Gabriel Rive last week. I threaded my fly rod, tied on a 6X tippet and mottled minnow fly and started hiking up the river from the parking lot beyond the East Fork Ranger Station.

            Fall on the east fork is one of my favorite times to fish. Mornings are just cold enough to help lower stream temps, the smattering of wild oaks are beginning to color up, and the river flow is down enough to make fording this still clear stream a simple task.

            In fact I was able to make two crossings by walking across river stones. By early October rainbows get really spooky. I make my approaches as quietly as possible and use high spots on the trail besides this stream to  looking for moving shapes facing upstream, tail fins ghosting just enough for the fish to maintain steerage as they wait for prey to come scooting out of stone strewn rills.

            The great thing about this fishery in the fall, is that the fish are hungry and as long as you don’t scare them by splashing through the water like a crazed water buffalo, the rainbows can be teased into biting. I counted 10 fish before I rolled my fly into a pool at the base of a rill about two miles upstream from the Ranger Station.  No joy, and the trout sortied to safety through water that unfortunately was slightly muddy.

            By this time of the year, much of the upper East Fork runs clear, although the water level seems down this year.

            I tied on a tiny midge fly and smiled as I saw it land upstream and float over the pond. The flash of silver with a stripe came off the bottom of the pool like lightning and gulped my fly in an instant. I gently coaxed the fish streamside and scooped it up in my net. This fish was destined for my memory bank, not the pan, so I took a quick moment to look it over. Its scales were clean but the fish wasn’t very active.  I unhooked it, cradled it in the water and felt it surging back to vibrancy. But there was one more thing I wanted to see, so I gently pried open its gill cheeks and looked at inside.  Damn, they seemed to be loaded with fine sediment, which interferes with the fish’s ability to get oxygen from the water.

            I put the fish back in the stream, let him recover and with a flick of his tail, he was gone, none the worse for his encounter with me.

            I gathered my net, rod and reel, had a quick pull of water from my canteen and walked another half-mile up the stream. The noise coming from around a bend in the stream confirmed my guess; gold dredgers, sucking up gravel and recirculating dirty waste water back to the stream.

            Approaching the bend in the East Fork I instinctively glanced down to the side of the stream, where I saw 13-inch trout fins up and very dead, caught in some weeds. I picked up the fish, looked at its gills and saw that they were muddy. I placed the native one-foot rain bow in my creel and shouted up the canyon, hoping my voice would carry over the noise of a small muffled four-stroke engine chugging away.

            While most gold seekers seem to enjoy being alerted of a third parties’ presence, I don’t take a lot of chances when I’m travelling alone. Better to be heard than surprise a lock jawed 30-year-old prospector with pin wheel eyes who suspects someone is out to rob them of  a few hundreths of a gram of flower gold they’ve taken from a stream.

            I asked how they were doing and gave them the fish. They didn’t want to talk so I ambled on, making 10 to 20 more casts before I beat feet for my car and the 95-minute drive back home to Escondido.

            I’ve grown up realizing that the Angeles National Forest and the East Fork of the San Gabriel River are multi-use recreational areas. I fundamentally understand that my love of fishing does not overrule some else’s enjoyment of gold prospecting.

            But when I find dead native rainbow breeding stock asphyxiated by amateur gold dredgers, I get a little pissed off.—Jim Forbes on 10/06/2008.

 

A Forgotten East Fork Tributary and Two Tussling Rainbows-- The Wild Fish And Shy Big Horns Are Still There

I had to make a hasty trip to my Mom’s house in Azusa—which has been sold and is now in escrow—and made a spur of the moment decision to throw my fly rod, fly wallet and creel in the back of my car before I left.

            My business with the realtor took only a few minutes so I jumped on Highway 39, hooked a right  at the

East

Fork

Bridge

and motored up the canyon.  Looking out my passenger window, the East Fork looked cold, clear and willing.

Thinking it may be a while before I got up there again, I broke my routine to try a tributary where I’d seen 12 and 16 incher jumping at the morning bite a couple of months ago.  I parked the  Prius, tied on a seldom used dorky minnow pattern I’ve used before and headed up a high trail adjacent to this seldom-fished  feeder stream and walking to a wide spot in the trail where I could look down into a deep pool.

            My first thought was “Holy Crap! It’s loaded with big trout.”

            I did a quick count before I walked quietly down to a spot upstream of the pond, thinking it had been years since I had seen any part of the

San Gabriel

River

’s East Fork system with more than  six fish holding in one pond.

            My first cast was from eight feet away, the 4X tippet and fly gently landing and carrying into the pond.  I saw a trout flash silver and head upstream towards my fly. It hit.I missed. 

I retrieved, smoothed the fly and roll casted back up stream of the lying-in-wait trout.

            I was ready for the hit and surprised by the trout’s run to the bottom of a frigid pool.  I gently brought him to the surface, stepped into the stream and had him off the hook in less than two minutes.

            At about 10:30 the pool exploded to life as trout jumped at a late morning hatch.

            I opened my fly wallet, checked my tippet to make sure it wasn’t abraded, stretched or frayed and tied on a coachman on a barbless #16 needle sharp hook. Three casts, and one more fish that wanted to run. I put it back and watched it fin its way to the bottom of the pool.

            The tinkling of dislodged granite on the north facing slope above me signaled I wasn’t alone. The image of  hoof prints of wild bighorn sheep by the side of the stream and the physical memory of two more trout caught in a small stream that’s only 30 miles from downtown

Los Angeles

got filed in  the part of my brain dedicated to a life time of East Fork memories. I took a long pull from my water bottle and hit the trail back to my car.

            Slipping back down the canyon I glanced over at the little arroyo down stream from

Camp

Williams

where I planted an oak sapling in memory of my aunt, Bonnie Sele, one of the two girls who lived on the East Fork as children in the first two decades of the previous century.

            Swirling cigar smoke from a contraband short Cuban made me think of old-timers who taught me how to fish this small stream and whose stories of wild trout that interbred with returning steelhead to produce fierce San Gabriel River rainbows, left me awestruck all those years ago.

            Soon I was back on the freeway to

Escondido

. My ties to Azusa and the San Gabriels may be temporarily severed by the sale of my boyhood home, but I know where I can go anytime to bathe in the memories of my youth, and maybe catch a few nice trout too.—Jim Forbes, 07/31/2008.

 

(author’s note: I deliberately didn’t mention the name of this specific East Coast tributary but the hints of a north faciong mountain and evidence of mountain bighorn sheep should give it away. Have fun and leave a couple of rainbows for me, please!—jmf)

Perfect River Conditions and Willing Trout--Best East Fork Trip Ever

The combination of warm early spring sun on top of some recent rain (which translated to snow on the slopes of Mount Baldy and Iron Mountain on the San Gabriel River’s East Fork made for one of the best fishing hikes I’ve ever made on the East Fork.

            Parking at the trailhead just up from the East Fork Ranger Station on Friday, I thought I might ry to make it up to the Bridge to No Where and Fish my way back down the canyon. Alas, walking up the East Fork, my plans were derailed after I noticed that pools up and down the watershed were filled with trout. I made my first cast into a pool about two-miles up from the ranger station. I zipped my barb less #16 wooly into the cold waters of the east fork and got a hit by a 16-inch rainbow that wanted to run, jink and jive among the not yet worn smooth of this classic East Fork trout pool.  My 4x lightweight tippet lasted a whole 10 minutes before it gave out as I tried to horse the fish to within range of my net. I tied on another fly and 4X tippet,  roll-casting the rig at the top end of a small rill where I thought there might be a few ‘bows waiting for tasty bugs to come wafting down on the icy clear current.  I guessed wisely and my fly hadn’t floated more than five feet down stream before a fat rainbow grabbed it, I set the line and stepped into the water, determined I would land the bow that began jumping within one minute of my hooking it.

            I lwt the fish perform his trout acrobatics for a couple of minutes, mindful not to put too much pressure on the line, but hopeful I could maneuver it close enough to my spot on the rocks that I’d be able to net it. There was enough fight in the fish to light up my hopes that it was a native wild East Fork rainbow. Bent over with my net in my right hand and my rid and reel tucked under my left arm, the fish made one last run just as I got it near to my net. Three minutes more and Mr. Rainbow was in my net. I looked at the fish closely and noted it blunt nose and dullish pink side. Oh well, “a feisty big stocker that’s porked out over the winter is more than “OK” I thought.

            I unhooked him, stepped into a deeper part of the river and let him swim away, to tease a fisherman another day. Although I could see more rainbows as dark torpedo shapes flashing their red or green sides in the reflected morning sunlight in the deepest sections of the pool I wanted to test my luck in waters further up the canyon where a lifetime of experience and countless stories over holiday dinners has led me to believe there is a much higher concentration of wild native fish. Beside, another guy my age and his seven-year-old fishing buddy were rigging up and wading out down stream from me.

            “Any luck?” they asked.

“Yup a couple of nice feisty rainbows and the pool looks really loaded,” I said as I took my disgustingly dirty t shirt off and used it as a screen to see what kind of bugs were hiding under boulders.”

The young fisherman earned a lot of points in my book by wandering over to see what insects were trapped in my shirt “Hellgrammites and nymphs” he said correctly. I slipped my short sleeve shirt back on, said “have fun” and hit the trail up the stream.

From down river, I heard words that made me smile “Hey gramps, looks like we should be casting nymphs, woolies and hellgrammite flies.”  The kid had it exactly right. It always warms my heart and makes me smile to see another generation of kids refine their knowledge of this world-class trout stream, only 42 miles from down town Los Angeles. Even if it means that I face more competition for trout, more informed fishermen is a very good thing for this stream and it’s future as a spot where avid fishermen using inexpensive gear trick a few trout up using basic flies.

After another hour of hiking I came to what is my second favorite spot on the East Fork, a large pond formed by an old hand made stone dam near an abandoned powder house made of cemented river stone. I took a minute to climb to a place on the trail where I could see down into the pond.  After seeing six or seven trout rise to snag bugs on a late morning hatch, I walked quietly down to the eastern edge of this majestic pond and cast an old dry Coachman pattern fly on a small barb less hook about 20- feet down stream.  I was intently staring at the fly as I worked it back upstream.  I saw two fish dart from the edges of the pool towards my fly but both fish interrupted their runs and seemed to loose interest as the fly neared my rod tip on the retrieve. Four casts later and I had a hook up. The trout pressured my line and bent my rod tip. I let him take a couple of pulls from my reel, hoping that the resistance of my floating line would tire him enough for me to see the fish before I could get it into position for my net. Only 30 seconds after I fed this fish some line, I was treated to a nice native 14-incher with crimson red sides imitating a Polaris sub-launched rocket twisting over the water in a fantastic jump.  Looking at the fish in mid-ai, I saw that my fly had fallen to the water. The trout turned and for a half second before he landed, I swear that old homegrown rainbow smiled at me. And, that’s hard for a trout to do. They have very stiff lips.

My problem was two-fold with that trout. I don’t think the hook on that fly has been sharpened in ages and I should have paid more attention to the retrieve.  Never mind: I had more flies and I knew there were definitely more fish where that one came from.

  I merely tied on a new barb less hook I knew was laser sharp and made two more casts under a midday sun so bright you could see all the way to the bottom of the pool where experience has taught me that really big natives hang out, waiting to teach me new tricks.

I fished for another 90 minutes, catching and releasing three more 11- to 13-inch trout with well-defined snouts and bright colored sides.

            In a life time of fishing the East Fork, broken only by serving overseas in Viet Nam and a two-year period living in Washington, this could well have been my best trip ever up the San Gabriel River’s East Fork. The river is clear, cold and swift. The trout are rested, hungry and eager to rise to a fly.

            So,if you’re a Southern California fisherman looking for a top-flight fishing experience, load up your gear, make sure you have a valid fishing license and Forest Service Outdoor Pass, and head up the East Fork.

            It’s spiritual fishing at its best and it doesn’t require an airplane reservation, or a $500 shopping trip to an Orvis outlet.

            Besides, any place where a trout throwing a fly as it jumps and smiling at me as it does so is my kind of fishing paradise.—Jim Forbes, an old Azusa boy on 03/08/2008.