COTTONING TO TROUT; LAKES O' GOLDENS REOPEN TO ANGLERS.

Byline: BRETT PAULY Angling

Sight-fishing is part shopping and part football.

Because the products are viewed first, anglers can make their selection before even wetting a line. Then they cast in front of the specimen like leading a receiver. When fish and dry fly connect, touchdown.

It's the feeling one gets when preparing to toss an insect imitation or a glittery lure to an unsuspecting golden trout in one of the namesake bodies of water that compose the remote Cottonwood Lakes Basin west of here.

``Oh, yeah, you can spot the fish usually along the edges where they are hanging out, cast in front of them and they do respond,'' said Culver City angler Ken Wells, who was targeting the brightly hued trout with a gold-and-red Thomas Buoyant lure during his final afternoon of an eight-day Sierra Club outing.

I watched Wells hook three in 10 minutes on a recent cloudless Saturday, prompting my fishing partner to quickly switch from his unproductive fly-and-bubble rig to a hunk of hardware.

He had landed more than two dozen at Cottonwood Lakes No. 3 in about an hour's time, the largest measuring 14 inches - a monster among the typically lilliputian goldens. Earlier in the day, even I had hooked my largest fly-caught golden - all 11 inches long - among the hundreds I have taken on prior backcountry hikes.

Why were these varieties so ``huge,'' so quick to charge bait and so bold with towering anglers looming nearby?

Lack of pressure, that's why. After being off-limits to anglers since 1966 in order to protect brood stock, four of the five Cottonwood Lakes in Inyo National Forest's John Muir Wilderness were reopened to fishing July 1. It's the type of Shangri-la situation for which trout anglers clamor.

``Hey, that's great, it gives a lot more area for people to fish,'' said Al Crandell, a mining-company metallurgist from Ridgecrest before making his first casts in the basin's lowermost lakes. ``And these fish are unbelievable. They're not very big, but they are gorgeous. It's a color you can't describe.''

Indeed, as one observer noted in 1905, ``the delicate golden olive of the head, back and upper part of the side, the clear golden yellow along and below the lateral line and the marvelously rich cadmium of the under parts fully entitle this species to be known above all others as the golden trout.''

Endemic only to the Southern Sierra Nevada's Golden Trout Creek, Little Kern River and South Fork Kern River - just southwest of Cottonwood Lakes Basin in the Golden Trout Wilderness - the delicate trout was designated the state fish in 1947.

It was documented in two subspecies earlier, and, well before that, introduced to many nearby lakes and streams. According to the Department of Fish and Game booklet ``Golden Trout of the High Sierra,'' the most significant transplant came in 1876, when one Col. Sherman Stevens carried 13 goldens in a coffeepot over four miles to Cottonwood Creek so he could have trout near his sawmill. In 1891, about 100 goldens were collected from the creek and hauled upstream to the Cottonwood Lakes.

Since 1918, Cottonwood Lakes Basin has been home to the DFG's golden trout spawning operations. In years when snowpack allows biologists into the basin before July 1 (El Nino-impacted 1998 wasn't one of them), eggs are taken to produce 250,000 to 500,000 fingerling goldens, which, in turn, are planted in regional backcountry waters.

Because of their limited distribution, goldens are thought to be the rarest of the primary Eastern Sierra trout, which include the rainbow, brook and brown.

The July 1 reopening of Cottonwood Lake Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4 greatly enhances the public's access to the fish.

``If you want to add the golden to your list of trout, this is a good place to do it,'' said Phil Pister, 69, of Bishop, a former fisheries biologist for the DFG in Bishop.

Pister qualified the statement by noting that a study two years ago revealed that the basin's golden trout population had somehow been compromised by rainbow trout as long as 40 years ago, producing what is known as a goldenbow hybrid. However, he said, the subtleties are hardly noticeable to the layperson and the fish is still largely considered a golden.

The hybridization of the golden brood stock was less of a reason for the angling reopening than the notion of adding four lakes to the state's Wild Trout Program, which mandates that each year one lake and 25 miles of streams be identified as quality catch-and-release fisheries. The DFG is behind in naming lakes to the program, according to Alan Pickard, senior fisheries supervisor for the DFG in Bishop.

Pickard said a zero-take limit is not likely to affect the golden trout spawning project.

``If it turns out there is a negative impact - if after a few years of angling we can't make our egg supplies, for example - we would take another look at the situation,'' Pickard said.

But for now its full steam ahead for golden fishing in the basin and as healthy as in times past, the biologist said.

Four years ago, Ridgecrest fisherman Crandell landed footlong goldens in lake No. 5. Largest and most distant of the Cottonwood quintet at 5.8 miles from the trailhead, it's the one lake that escaped the closure of 1966, when the DFG recommended the golden trout spawning project be more stringently preserved. As in previous years, it is also the only body from which goldens can be kept, with a limit of five.

``It's a dream for him getting back up here,'' said Pat Strickland, a First Baptist Church of Ridgecrest pastor accompanying her friend. Crandell whistled ``I've Been Working on the Railroad'' as the pair strode past 11,008-foot-high Cottonwood Lake No. 1, situated 4-1/2-miles northwest of and nearly 1,000 feet above the Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead.

More than six hours later they would return to the parking lot falling short of their goal to reach lake No. 5 but having landed eight goldens mostly on Super Duper lures at lake No. 2.

Framed by granite walls near tree line and dotted with a smattering of yellow, red and purple flowers in breathtaking meadows, it mattered not where the two wound up pitching their lines.

``Just being out here in God's creation is a special treat and whether I caught anything would be a special treat,'' Strickland said of the basin that was named in the late 19th century for the cottonwood trees that lined the lower stretches of its drainage creek. ``But I caught one, and it was a beauty.''

If You're Going

To reach the Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead, take highways 5 and 14 north to Highway 395. In Lone Pine, turn left on Whitney Portal Road, drive 3-1/2 miles to Horseshoe Meadow Road and turn left. Continue 20-1/2 miles to the trailhead. (Don't get confused with nearby Cottonwood Pass Trailhead.)

Camping is available on a first-come, first-served basis and limited to one night's stay. Hiker sites are $6; equestrian sites are $12.

Permits for overnight backcountry trekking in the Cottonwood Lakes Basin are required during the backpacker-quota period from the last Friday in June to Sept. 15. Information: [phone].

The trail is found on the Cirque Peak 7.5-minute series topographic map and Tom Harrison Cartography's ``Trail Map of the Mt. Whitney High Country.''

Allow six hours for hiking.

Fishing regulations: All Cottonwood Creek drainage lakes are open July 1 to Oct. 31 to artificial lures with barbless hooks. Cottonwood Lakes Nos. 1-4 and their tributaries have a zero take; five fish can be kept at lake No. 5.

Further information: Mount Whitney Ranger Station, [phone].

- Brett Pauly

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos, Box, Map

PHOTO (1--Color) Ken Wells of Culver City wets a line in Cottonwood Lake No. 3. Despite a broken fishing rod, he landed more than two dozen golden trout.

(2--Color) With its olive head and back, yellow sides and red belly, there is no mistaking the golden trout - California's state fish.

Matt Purdue/Special to the Daily News

BOX: If You're Going (see text)

MAP: (Color) COTTONWOOD LAKES BASIN

Dionisio Munoz/Daily News