HIGH ON HUMPHREYS BASIN : SIERRA BASIN IS GOLDEN FOR ANGLERS.

Byline: Brett Pauly

There may be no more unimaginative place-name in the High Sierra than Golden Trout Lakes . . . and I couldn't be happier.

Make it to these shimmering, fragile bodies in the rugged backcountry of Sierra National Forest's Humphreys Basin and you're guaranteed to land your fill of golden trout - the state fish and perhaps the single most beautiful freshwater game fish. Well, as guaranteed as any angling promise ever made.

During a four-day stay in August, my fly-angling brothers and I landed some 200 of these yellow-bellied belles with the crimson streaks along their lateral lines and undersides. The only trout that keeps its youthful parr marks throughout life, it proudly wears the 10 or so brown badges like a decorated soldier.

A single strike from one of these otherworldly specimens, and you'll be addicted to its mesmerizing hues. Too pretty to keep many, we released about 190. Still, they're delicate meat is a mouthwatering indulgence.

Our weeklong sojourn into the grandiose basin began as a sibling reunion (four brothers and a brother-in-law), an experiment in using packhorses (every prior extended backpacking trip of mine had been just that - hauling in gear on my shoulders) and a chance to pay back my dear old dad for introducing me to the Sierra Nevada range more than 25 years earlier.

At age 9, I had followed him along most of the John Muir Trail to the zenith of Mount Whitney - at 14,494 feet, the tallest peak in the contiguous United States - for the first time. My brother, Quinn, was only 6 at the time, and my mother was talked into tagging along, as well. Ever the trooper, she never complained once during the two-week trip.

But a quarter of a century takes its toll on a middle-age body. My old man, Ira, is 65 now, and I wanted to make sure his return to the Sierra backcountry would be triumphant and as comfortable as possible. Hence, the horses. He and Quinn - the doctor, who could address any medical needs that may have arisen as the elevations climbed and civilization became a memory - traveled atop mules. The rest of us hiked into the basin while our gear was toted by the pack train.

A few paces into the excursion we entered the John Muir Wilderness. To me, that boundary is always like opening an imaginary gateway to exploration that is seldom matched. From its head (elevation 9,360 feet), the Piute Pass Trail climbs nearly 2,100 feet in 4.8 miles past lakes of azure, most notably Loch Leven and Piute Lake, to its namesake.

Piute Pass (11,423 feet) marks the Sierra's high crest and is at once the boundary of Sierra and Inyo National Forests and Fresno and Inyo counties.

Here the view is panoramic to the point of startling. Beyond the first landmark, Summit Lake, the treeless expanse funnels into Piute Canyon, where the basin's outflows meander toward the South Fork of the San Joaquin River some eight miles to the west. Above the canyon, a set of spires known as The Pinnacles makes its presence known. And to the south just two miles but over formidable Glacier Divide and its icy towers, Muriel Peak (12,937 feet) and Mount Goethe (13,264 feet), is Kings Canyon National Park.

The hikers set their bearings on Pilot Knob, a 12,245-foot outcrop to the northwest that marked the way to Tomahawk Lake about 3-1/2 miles away, where they were to meet the equestrian portion of the party. A ridge on the south side of the lake (11,145 feet) - from the air it looks like the head of a tomahawk - would be home for three days.

By day it was fishing for brook trout; at night it was stargazing. We thought the Big Dipper would be more appropriately dubbed the Big Sierra Cup. Mount Humphreys, a 13,986-foot summit of cracked and broken granite blocks, stood like a sentry to the east. The peak and the basin it oversees were named after Andrew Atkinson Humphreys, a soldier and engineer who distinguished himself in the Civil War.

``If you're not catching any fish, that's one thing,'' said Mike Trauner, a Sierra National Forest information officer. ``But if you can't enjoy the scenery, you shouldn't be there.''

Trauner discovered the region after reading ``Waters of the Golden Trout Country'' by storied outdoorsman Charles McDermand and has been fly-fishing its lakes with weight-forward sinking lines ever since. He caught his first trout on a cutthroat fly made of black hackle, white duck-quill wings and a red chenille body that is rarely seen these days.

At Tomahawk, the flies weren't working. But worms and Power Bait were.

Darrell Wong, a Department of Fish and Game biologist, explained that brook trout - a most adaptable fish - introduced in the 1920s and '30s, and earlier, grew to enormous sizes of several pounds or more. But as time marched on and food supplies diminished, the speckled char continued to propagate to the point where they could no longer grow large. Now, some that are 8 or 10 inches long may actually be 20 years or older. Suffice to say, the DFG hasn't planted brookies in Humphreys Basin in decades.

We must have caught the George Burnses of the stunted, self-sustaining bunch, because the four we landed measured to 13 inches.

By the time we moseyed down to the Golden Trout Lakes (10,786 feet), 1-1/2 miles to the south, on the fourth day it became evident that what was brewing as a sibling rivalry would become a full-out angling bonanza. Forget the reunion; this was high country fly-fishing at its finest.

The goldens in the surrounding creeks hit any flies we tossed - dries, wets, nymphs, from the ever-versatile Sierra bright dot (see related story), Adams and California mosquito to midge emergers to beetles and ants - on 4-, 5-, and 6-weight setups. Even a grasshopper pattern, which must have appeared like Noah's Ark to these colorful jewels that top out at 10 inches, got a strike.

Wong noted that golden trout, which are stocked annually to replenish their numbers, tend not to overpopulate as the brook does because their spawning is limited to the inlets and outlets of lakes. ``The lakes are so high and so sterile, trying to grow fish is like trying to grow alfalfa on a tennis court,'' he said.

We must have stumbled onto the breed at its peak form, because there were times when three of us were hooked up at once. Fish rose on streaks of a dozen or more casts. Two in the party landed 40 without changing flies.

Ocean anglers call such a wide-open bite a ``happening.'' It's rarely happened on one of my fly-fishing trips. But this was one time when angling transcended to something magical.

If You're Going ...

Situated 15 miles southwest of Bishop, Humphreys Basin is an extremely isolated and pristine outpost that opens up to hikers less than 5 miles from the Piute Pass Trailhead. It is one of the most accessible backcountry locales in the High Sierra.

To reach the trailhead at North Lake Campground, drive north on the Antelope Valley Freeway (14) to Highway 395 north some 250 miles to Bishop. Turn left on West Line Street (Highway 168), drive 18.5 miles to North Lake Road and turn right. Motor to its terminus, drop off the packs and return three-quarters mile to the backpackers' parking area at North Lake proper. (For those opting to have packstock bring in their gear, this is also where the pack station is located.)

Although the backcountry quota period, which limits daily travel over Piute Pass to 32 backpackers, runs from the last Friday in June to Sept. 15, overnight visitors must obtain a wilderness permit. Call the Inyo National Forest Wilderness Reservation Service, [phone] or [phone].

Since it's late in the hiking season and the snows can fall soon, you might want to plan the trip for next summer. Reservations can be made up to six months in advance.

Wood fires are allowed but are discouraged. There are no special fishing regulations. Camping is prohibited within 500 feet of Lower Golden Trout Lake. Humphreys Basin is found on the Mount Tom and Mount Darwin 7.5-minute topographic maps.

Summertime packhorse trips can be arranged through Bishop Pack Outfitters, [phone].

For further information, call the Sierra National Forest, [phone], ext. 4925, or the Inyo National Forest's White Mountain Ranger Station, [phone].

CAPTION(S):

3 Photos, Box, Map

Photo: (1--color) Hikers and packhorse trains are greeted by expansive, unspoiled Humphreys Basin at Piute Pass.

Jim Brommer / Special to the Daily News

(2--color) Ira Pauly landed a 13-inch brook trout at Tomahawk Lake using processed bait.

(3--color) A pair of fly-anglers ply their skills in Piute Creek as 13,986-foot Mount Humphreys looms behind them.

Brett Pauly / Daily News

Map: HUMPHREYS BASIN

Traci Wooden / Daily News

Box: If you're going (see text)