Antonito – Like the leaves of a ripe artichoke, the reputation kept peeling away with each bend of the road, a jostling journey that left a Denver visitor in a state of acute amazement.
“There’s 50 miles of quality fishing water between my shop and Platoro Reservoir, and half of it has public access,” Jon Harp said, stripping away the layers of myth.
Four miles of fly-fishing-only water over here. Fifteen miles of access, much of it with special regulations up there. Various public patches of river with no special rules scattered hither and yon. Camping areas galore, many without any fee requirement. And barely a vehicle in sight.
So much for the rumor that it’s hard to find good public access to the Conejos River. Not that many people from Colorado’s upper Front Range ever tried.
“It’s a lost world down here. Most people from the Front Range know nothing about it,” said Harp, who, after a dozen years exploring and guiding in the area, opened the Conejos River Anglers fly shop at the hamlet of Mogote, 4 1/2 miles west of Antonito on Highway 17 and about 4 1/2 hours from Denver.
The Conejos, which means “rabbits” in Spanish, indeed is off the beaten path, if not the charts. Certain sections of the river qualify for Gold Medal status under Colorado Division of Wildlife guidelines, but, in the nonchalant way of the region, no one much cares about status or statistics.
For the record, DOW biologist John Alves tallied 81 pounds of trout per acre in that special four miles between Aspen Glade Campground and the former Menkhaven Lodge, a walk-in section that passes through a luxury home development – an allowance almost unknown at points north. Alves’ per-acre count includes 49 fish longer than 14 inches.
The largest tributary of the Rio Grande, the Conejos is brown-trout water, an exclusivity traced in part to the effects of whirling disease on rainbows, the rest to that increasingly profound benefit from withholding catchable trout. With hatchery stocks running low, Alves in 1996 began diverting his allocation of rainbows from the river to various San Luis Valley lakes. The impact was both immediate and astonishing. Trout biomass jumped from 30 pounds per acre to more than 80 in just one year.
“I thought we’d made an error, but we sampled again in 1999 and it still was that high. It was the same last year,” Alves related. A 2003 sampling of sections with standard four-trout regulations showed brown trout biomass had boomed into the 50- to 60-pound range.
Perhaps the most notable improvement can be found at a place just below Platoro Reservoir where a joint project of DOW and the San Luis Valley chapter of Trout Unlimited provides greater adult trout habitat in winter, when the reservoir minimum release dips to a 7-cubic-feet-per-second trickle.
Coupled with a regulation change stipulating two trout longer than 16 inches, average size jumped 3 inches and biomass from 12 to 41 pounds.
The Meadow section below Platoro is a marvel in itself, a serpentine squiggle through a deeply notched valley that fairly cries out for a visit. Farther downstream, the Conejos dives into a canyon area called the Pinnacles, a scenically compelling zone that provides exclamation to that 15 miles of continuous public passage.
Trout are abundant and access ample. But a certain synapse of location is missing. Public points often aren’t well marked, and Harp describes the process as “a little intimidating.” Harp dispenses lodging, guide service, maps and free advice from his shop (719-376-5660). When he draws circles on a detailed chart of the area, the possibilities come alive.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the myriad side streams that branch from the upper river.
“At least 10 have really good fishing, and there’s another 15 where you can catch trout,” Harp said, ticking off a list that causes a listener to drool.
It begins with Elk Creek, where wild rainbows and browns abound in Second Meadow and Rio Grande cutthroats grow past 16 inches higher up the drainage. Farther up, the South Fork offers abundant browns and Hansen Creek sprouts cutthroat in its canyon reaches.
The best fishing requires hikes of varying distance that, in a region full of scenic surprise, rank as a separate delight.
“You can spend a whole season and never get around to it all,” Harp said. “After all these years, I still don’t know this place. Almost no one does.”
From a banner snowpack, the Conejos and its tributaries remain high, but clear, delaying the peak of summer season. The payback will come with strong flows lasting deep into autumn, which means more time to peel a few leaves of your own.
Listen to Charlie Meyers at 9 a.m. each Saturday on “The Fan Outdoors,” KKFN 950 AM. He can be reached at 303-820-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com.
