RIDGWAY — Colorado Division of Wildlife pilot Steve Waters is on a challenging mission with precious cargo. He climbs his specially modified Cessna 185 above the Blue Lakes near Mount Sneffels, scans the surface for telltale signs of dangerous wind gusts, then banks the plane and begins to slip and descend for his bombing run.
As he centers over his target zone at exactly the right speed and altitude (90 mph, 150 feet above the lake), he hits a button on his yoke, which springs a trap door on the Cessna’s underbelly, sending hundreds of Colorado River strain cutthroat trout fingerlings cascading into the water. He makes several more passes with the same carefully calculated maneuvers, then glides off toward the airport in Montrose. Mission accomplished.
Waters, 58, is one of four full-time DOW pilots who collectively fly hundreds of sorties each year in support of various wildlife management programs — from stocking fish in lakes unreachable by roads, to taking inventory of antelope on the plains, to tracking the migration of radio-collared animals.
Of the nearly 700 hours Waters flies for the DOW in a given year, fewer than 40 are spent stocking fish. These flights are concentrated in a short time frame between late August and early September, when mountain flying weather is less volatile (usually early mornings) and the juvenile fish can acclimate in warmer water temperatures before the onset of freezes.
“Going in during this time of year gives the fish time to establish in the lake and put on some growth before winter,” explained Ken Kehmeier, the DOW’s senior aquatic biologist for its northeast region. “This time of year also sees less violent weather over the mountains of Colorado, which is safer for our pilots.”
Even in optimal conditions, however, these missions demand tricky, technical flying skills.
At altitudes between 10,000 and 12,000 feet, Waters’ Cessna 185 has roughly half the horsepower it would have flying just above sea level. The heavy, water-filled tank containing the fish is secured midfuselage. It is divided into nine four-gallon compartments (which are emptied individually) and has no lid. Thus, sudden movements can cause spills and dangerous weight shifts.
Where the co-pilot’s seat would normally be is an oxygen canister bolted to the floor. This serves dual purposes — keeping the fish tank bubbling, and allowing the pilot to pull occasional breaths that combat the hypoxic effects of sustained unpressurized flying at altitude.
Then, of course, there’s the weather. As a rule of thumb, the pilots don’t stock in heavy winds or cloud cover. However, clear-air turbulence — often a factor around mountain peaks — is invisible to the naked eye.
“Think of the air currents around the mountains like water tumbling over rocks in a river; on the (upstream) side, the water can be calm, but on the (downstream) side, it bubbles and churns,” Waters said. “It’s the same in the air. So we have to be very careful when we make our approaches and escapes. We always go in and out of (a lake drop zone) the same way.”
Waters described another pilot’s encounter with rough air that sent water splashing throughout the cockpit, and tiny trout wriggling down his shirt collar.
“That made for an uncomfortable flight, I’m sure, but for the most part these jobs are pretty routine,” said Waters, who began flying in Durango in 1988 while running an oil field service company.
As for that lingering question many high-country anglers are probably asking themselves right now . . . Yes, there have been situations where float tubers and canoeists were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and were buzzed, then showered with water and trout. But that’s a rarity the pilots avoid if possible. (Waters suggests tubers or boaters fishing high lakes who see a Cessna circling overhead kick or paddle to the shoreline as quickly as possible.)
Despite the challenges, Waters said flying for the DOW is a uniquely rewarding job. His pilot’s seat offers views of wild Colorado landscapes — flying over The Needles south of Silverton and the Maroon Bells in the White River National Forest are among his favorite experiences. There’s also the satisfaction of knowing he plays a vital role in sustaining a legacy of native cutthroats in pristine habitat that can be enjoyed for generations.
So the next time you find yourself casting at trout in an alpine lake, take a moment for thoughts of gratitude aimed at Waters and the other DOW pilots who have the courage and skill it takes to put them there.
Kirk Deeter is an editor-at-large for Field & Stream, and with photographer Tim Romano, co-host of that magazine’s “Fly Talk” fly-fishing blog at
Aerial stocking/By the numbers
Facts about the Colorado Division of Wildlife’s aerial fish stocking program:
In 2009, the DOW has scheduled stocking more than 308,000 native species cutthroat trout by air in 244 high-country lakes. The lakes are chosen via a variety of factors: Are they deep enough to avoid solid freezing, allowing fish to survive harsh winter conditions? Are they accessible and utilized by recreational anglers? Do fish naturally reproduce in the lake (if so, stocking is sometimes unnecessary)?
The aerial stocking program focuses on juvenile fish, roughly 1 inch long. At that size, the pilots can stock greater concentrations of fish per flight. Remarkably, the DOW estimates that well above 85 percent of the fish dropped into the lakes from airplanes survive.
The DOW stocks only species of cutthroat trout native to the specific river drainages where they are planted — Rio Grande cutthroat trout in the Rio Grande drainage (in southern Colorado, east of the Continental Divide); Colorado River cutthroat trout in the Colorado River drainage (west of the Continental Divide); and Greenback cutthroat trout in the Platte and Arkansas River drainages (in northern and central Colorado, east of the Continental Divide).
Here is the scheduled aerial stocking breakout:
• Rio Grande cutthroats: 85,079 fish in 37 lakes
• Colorado River cutthroats: 143,745 fish in 120 lakes
• Greenback cutthroats: 79,300 fish in 87 lakes
Colorado Division of Wildlife and Kirk Deeter, Special to The Denver Post
