Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Gila National Forest - Tularosa River


The falls


Boxing up.








The road that took me back.




I had spied this little box section of the Tularosa River a while back  as a place where there was at least some chance of finding (and maybe catching) a few trout. This narrow 3/4 mile stretch is part of 1.75 miles of riverfront on national forest land which may be the longest public access to the river in its 25 or so mile run. It's got to be one of the prettiest.  Although when we visited the petroglyph site upstream from here last year, that was very nice as well.

 I parked off of FR 4161D near where it branches from 4161C after driving an hour and twenty minutes from my cabin on Horse Mountain. For some reason I completely missed the continuation of 4161C which was going to be my first leg of the trip, but I knew it was probably less than a 1/2 mile to my turn-off onto FR 4318V( which I had planned to walk anyway) so I just started hoofing down the wrinkled, rocky and grassy valley. At the power lines I started up hill to the top of the little ridge above the river, catching an elk peacefully grazing along the way. Now, I realized, it wasn't going to be all that quick or easy getting down to the stream. In fact, it was very steep and rocky and I took it very slow. At the bottom, just downstream of a big horseshoe bend in the creek and a section of private property, I found green grasses, and muddy springs  and a few inches of water in the wide river bed, as I walked along to the beginning of the box. When I came upon some in-stream boulders, I decided to get the fly rod out. 

Fishing began in here.
My Redington Butter stick lower right.

At first my cast yielded nothing, but as I went further down, where the stream confined and began rushing between the rocks, there started to be many approaches and almost defensive attempts to chomp at my dry fly at the many little pools that were a foot to two feet deep. This is how it went at several locations. I changed dry flies. I tried a couple of different nymphs but not one legitimate hook-up.

My expectations had been low for success, so even though I continued trying, I wasn't the least bit I  discouraged, especially since my surroundings became such wonderful place just to be. Rough-ribbed canyon walls of volcanic rock rose up with deciduous trees ( box elder, oak, walnut, cottonwood) clinging to their sides. Springs gushed forth from just off the stream bed lushly populating the sandy banks and high spots in the stream with the cress, grasses and even a few willows. Eventually I found myself picking my way through the boulders and little cascades until the stream was just running in a solid half-pipe of bedrock. 

Shortly thereafter I came to the top of a falls with very deep pool beneath. I could see plenty of fish both up close to the surface as well black forms down at the bottom. I couldn't say for sure any of them were trout, but I began casting anyway, with pretty much the same results I had been having. I tried going deep, but could never get anything on the bottom to even move. 

At the top of the falls.

When I got tired of trying, I had the impulse to just jump in, but I wasn't sure if there was going to be a way back up. I also really wanted to get a photo of the waterfall if it I ended having to turn around. So, first I tried the south side which was treacherous and brushy and didn't yield much of photo. Then I looked across. The north side was obviously the way to go and after the difficulty of getting back down to the stream, I hoisted myself up and had an easy walk down to the lower end of the pool that ran out from the falls.

The falls from up above on the south side.

 There were scads of little fish upstream from a homemade rock dam and they swirled and dashed away from my every step. They were definitely not trout. I believe these were loach minnows upon research conducted back at the cabin, but I'm not sure. These weren't the only kind of fish in there though. I tried some more casting into the deep, clear pool to no avail. I'm guessing some of the ones that approached my fly were chubs of one kind or another. The forms on the bottom were probably suckers. There may have  species of dace and shiners in there as well. 

Beyond this lower bedrock run the valley opened wide and the stream barely slid across the rock and through its own algae with just an inch or two of water in most places.

 I had my picnic under the shade of a pine. I wet my hat and shirt in the river. I found the road that would take me back. Along the way was a wooden shack and an old corral. 

Old shack near the road

    Scenic old corral and Jon S Mountain

    It was warm, but because of the thin layer of clouds that had been a constant since morning, it was never unpleasant. The road was quite drivable I discovered as hiked along, and I realized it must get some traffic just from people who want come down and use that pool below the falls as a swimming hole. 

Old restaurant sign found near the creek bottom.
Highway sign perhaps washed down in a flood.

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