Warner Mountain Adventure
by Dean Growdon
I’ve been fortunate to spend time in the southern Warner Mountains, but I had never explored the northern reaches until recently. A couple of weeks ago, my wife, Carol, and I had a couple of free days, so we packed her truck with camping and fishing gear and loaded up our old German wirehaired pointer, Piper. We set out to see new country and, of course, cast a few flies along the way.
We got an early start and drove to Alturas, where we stopped for sandwiches at a local deli and picked up a few last-minute supplies. From there, we headed north as rain clouds gathered ahead of us.
We made a turn east to Lassen Creek Campground, where we hoped to fish for Goose Lake Redband trout. The weather was just about perfect: the rain had moved on, leaving the ground damp and the air cool and fresh. I assembled our rods, and we set out in search of the trout native to this stream and included in the California Heritage Trout Program.
I tried to fool a bigger fish, but they were wary and quick. In a narrow stretch of creek beneath a leafy canopy, I spotted a good-sized trout tucked under the cover of bushes. I slipped a fly close to it, and the fish rose, took it, and let go faster than I could react.
It vanished beneath a cut bank, and I never saw it again. Even though we only caught small fish, it was a pleasure to see these trout thriving in their native water.
We returned to Highway 395 and kept heading north until we were nearly in Oregon. Then we turned east onto a rough dirt road and climbed steadily into the high country.
That night, we stopped at Cave Lake Campground. There we found rainbow trout feeding aggressively, eager for nymphs and dry flies. Carol and I enjoyed catching and releasing dozens of those bright, lively fish.
What struck me most, though, was that the area had escaped the fire damage that has scarred so much of the landscape around us. It brought to mind Juniper Lake, the Caribou Wilderness, and Deerheart, Homer, and Hidden Lakes before flames changed them forever. It was beautiful country to behold, yet it also stirred a deep sadness for all we’ve lost in recent years.
After a quiet night in our tent, I rose early and hiked to nearby Lilly Lake. On the map, it looked like an easy walk, but it turned out to involve a steep climb and an even steeper descent. Still, the fishing made it worthwhile. In about 15 minutes, I caught several rainbows, then sat for a while watching fish rise on the surface while a variety of birds paddled and fed in the little lake.
On the return trip, I was relieved to discover a longer but much easier trail.
After breakfast, we packed up and headed east to another creek. We saw only one fish there, and despite plenty of walking and fishing, we came up empty. From there, we decided to keep going east, since neither of us had ever seen the Alkali Lakes or the small towns in that part of the world.
Fortunately, the road east was in far better shape than the one we had taken in. We drove down to County Road 1, then continued to Cedarville. The scenery was lovely and reminded me of the Pittville area of Lassen County. We crossed Cedar Pass on Highway 229, returned to Alturas, and then headed home.
It was a short trip with a lot of miles, but it was well worth the time, effort, and expense. We saw new country, caught beautiful fish, and enjoyed a glimpse of the blessings God has given us in this part of the state. Looking back on the adventure, I feel grateful for those moments in nature that lift my spirit and remind me how important it is to protect these wild places for generations to come.
