It’s a debate as old as the fishing pole and remains the outdoors writer’s dilemma. Yet there is no easy answer to the question of whether or not to spill the beans.
Certainly there are readers who insist it’s the very definition of the journalist’s job to tell all, not just the who, what, when, why and how, but specifically where. They’d like to catch the same fish they read about, directions please.
Others uphold to a more secretive outdoorsman ethic, wherein it remains ethical to shoot the blabbermouth messenger. The reason, as a rule, that a fishing hole remains productive is because so few people know how good the fishing is.
The dilemma presented itself to me on multiple occasions in the past week alone, as several readers of last week’s story on fishing lost lakes phoned or e-mailed asking for directions to the lake in the photograph or a comparable body of water within striking distance from Denver.
And my sobering conversation with the Solitary Angler, Van Beacham, on the demise of the Hams Fork River after a Denver Post story 10 years ago illustrated the occasionally unintended power of the pen, punctuated by Beacham’s comment: “We asked him not to write the story.”
But Beacham makes his living as a guide, taking people to the very places he doesn’t want anyone else to know about. And over the course of the past decade, he said, the segment he produced for the Outdoors Channel on the Hams Fork has run more than 15 times. I suppose the debate over who gets to tell the story is another matter altogether.
Or maybe it’s the answer.
Years ago, someone explained my job to me as the business of gathering information. Presumably, the objective in gathering the info was to then present it to readers. Often that’s the case, but over the course of time, I’ve learned that some information is best left off the record.
Contrary to the argument that it’s the outdoor writer’s job to name names is an equally compelling argument for withholding certain morsels of information known in journalistic circles as protecting sources. Or, as the case may be, resources.
Most of the lines have long since been drawn pointing people to renowned destinations the likes of the Green River below Flaming Gorge, the Fryingpan below Reudi, South Platte near Deckers, and Spinney Mountain and Antero reservoirs. Other areas are still spoken of in hushed tones, and even those in the know typically won’t reveal precise locations on even the popular lakes and streams.
To do so would not only spoil their own fun but also rob others of the simple joy of discovery for themselves.
Besides, most of the time the information is out there just waiting to be found. In this age of instantaneous gratification, there’s already an app for that, or in the vernacular of the old school, a computer program. The story has already been told.
Case in point, computer programmer Alan Malkiel responded to last week’s story by forwarding the link to the Colorado LakeFinder program he wrote roughly a decade ago (~a1anma1k/). After hiking for hours to discover that the lake he had spotted on the topo map was an unfishable 6 inches deep, he has taken it upon himself to ensure the same doesn’t happen to others.
Although much of the information is a quarter century old, the location, size in acres, maximum depth, average depth and elevation of more than 3,700 Colorado lakes remain accurate. Specifics on type of fish and comments as to fishing quality are less reliable.
Malkiel’s codes can isolate each lake by a dozen selection categories, even giving the page number on the DeLorme Colorado Atlas & Gazetteer (in itself a valuable resource). Ask about brook trout, for instance, and it spits out 461 results. Search for “Lost Lake” and you’ll find 37 of them.
Best of all, the computer doesn’t care who you tell.
Scott Willoughby: 303-954-1993 or swilloughby@denverpost.com
