Walden – In that shifting realm of the thousand-yard stare, this one gets high marks for novelty.
On one side of South Delaney Butte Lake, we find a little band of anglers hip deep in cold water casting toward a paper-thin sheet of gray ice that, agitated by a mounting wind, is retreating quickly toward the outer limits of casting range.
Waiting out a slow bite, these forlorn fellows gaze a half-mile to the far side of the lake, where two intrepid souls have drilled holes a few yards from shore through what still is a foot of bright, solid ice.
In this odd tableau of Colorado springtime, each is pushing opposite ends of the envelope in search of the same – large trout cruising the shallows looking for love.
This annual display at various lakes across the state causes fishermen to engage in what a casual observer might call irrational acts – such as tempting the wrath of the North Park wind. The fact that this high valley stretching broadly between cloud peaks shares a common boundary with Wyoming should not be lost on spring fishermen with delusions of comfort.
It is a grand, vacant place, a perfect sanctuary for emptying the ashtrays of the mind. But it also is home to the wind.
Spurned molecules from the overstocked harem of a high-pressure area somewhere off to the southwest are racing headlong toward the open arms of some distant low. To anglers trying to keep a line positioned in the prospective path of a trophy trout, the effect is maddening, a losing hand in an annual guessing game only occasionally won.
Come too early and you’ll find ice still commanding the places you most wanted to fish. Arrive too late and you’ll miss that glorious procession of spawning trout, pompous and colorful as an Easter parade.
This year, the contest is made more interesting by new rules that promise to keep more large trout throughout the season.
These regulations mandate that all rainbow and cutthroat trout between 18 and 22 inches be released at all three Delaney Butte lakes – South, North and East. Similarly, all browns between 14 and 20 inches must be returned. The notion is to allow anglers to keep a trophy in the daily bag of two trout while protecting a broad base of desirable fish that will carry the burden of recreation throughout the year.
These three lakes, long off-limits to bait, also fall under a new stricture that forbids the use of scented lures. Fishing now is prohibited in inlet streams, as well as the North Lake dam during brown trout spawn.
“It’ll be interesting to see what the Delaneys do with the slot limits. I hope to see some good rainbows by the end of the season,” said Ken Kehmeier, the Division of Wildlife biologist who nurtures these trout-rich waters.
Kehmeier has similar aspirations for nearby Lake John and Cowdrey Lake, fish factories that allow all methods and the standard four- trout limit. North Park impoundments are brimming water and, with a healthy snowpack, should stay that way.
Little wonder our ruffled group has chosen to brave the elements, awaiting the familiar tug that once again will connect us to the very pulse of creation.
When the pull finally comes, the surface parts to reveal the large, dark form of a male rainbow whose broad stripe catches sunlight in flashbulb pink. In the way of most big fish, it pulls free to be tempted, as Kehmeier desires, at another time by someone else.
Above the wind, the oboe call of a raven echoes expectantly from the edge of the ice, perhaps awaiting the remains of an eviscerated trout. Keeping to its reputation for avian intellect, the bird takes stock of our flailing casts, nods knowingly and departs as quickly as it came.
Perhaps it finds better pickings with the ice fishermen across the lake.
Charlie Meyers can be reached
at 303-820-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com.
