Cutts to the Core (or gill rakers, I guess)

Montana has two magnificent subspecies of cutthroat trout: Westslope and Yellowstone. Which would you rather have in the net?

Click here to learn more about where these were caught. 

The subtle differences:

• They are very difficult to tell apart based on appearance (without counting gill rakers*). I've found a fair number of mountain lakes where you'll find both, and there's no real way to know which is which. But if you insist on trying, Yellowstones tend be a bit more bronze, while westslopes are more often chrome-ish, and tend toward pink-ish purple bellies. But to be clear, either can have any of these characteristics (other than the gill rakers thing). 
• Yellowstones are likely the most storied of all subspecies of cutthroats. They are much easier to find information about than westslopes. 
• Westslope cutts own the largest native range of all the cutthroats, stretching from the Gallatin Crest south of Bozeman well into Oregon and British Columbia. The range of Yellowstone cutts is only the Yellowstone River drainage (unless you count those screwy "Yellowstone" cutts native to the South Fork of the Snake River - don't get me started...**)
• Yellowstone cutts are known to have a faster growth rate than westslopes. Which makes trophy Yellowstones more common, but trophy westslopes more prized. A true trophy Yellowstone cutt, in my opinion, is 25 inches or more and are almost exclusively found in and around Yellowstone Lake. A trophy westslope, however, could be a fat 20 incher. 

But really, why have a preference? Each one is a privilege, inspires awe and is a reminder why we do what we do. 

*Yellowstone cutts native to Yellowstone Lake have 20 to 22 gill rakers on their anterior sides, while Westslopes only have 18 or 19 (whatever that means). But you weird-ass gill raker counters probably already knew that.
**You got me started. Apparently, Snake River fine-spotted cutthroat trout are genetically identical to Yellowstone cutts, but the cutts in the South Fork of the Snake River (which is actually the mainstem of the Snake River, not a headwater tributary or anything) have bolder spots than other Snake River fine-spotted cutts - spots more like Yellowstones. And since they are genetically identical, they just call them native Yellowstone cutthroat. In the Snake River. And Henry's Fork of the Snake River. And elsewhere in the Snake River drainage...
Not only that, but Clearwater and Salmon Rivers in the Snake drainage, randomly have native westslopes. Those rivers should either hold Yellowstones (due to the above anomaly) or Snake River cutts. It's not a perfect system.

Ants, ants, Buggers, ants, twirl and repeat

Last year, our first dedicated to the high country, we struggled. We found fishless lakes, were stymied by savvy cutthroat, and were left feeling a bit disenchanted.

Whey duh f*^k are the trout?

But such struggles are often the prerequisites of fishing glory. This summer has been better, and maybe we're figuring some stuff out. Or it's just been a better summer in the high country.

Our season started in late May, when we happened onto a spot we came to know as the aquarium. This was not a lake I had any expectations for, but we caught several 16- to 18-inch cutthroat trout, under a  dense canopy of pine trees, that were eager to run down a big pink scud. Stir in a few nice-sized grayling and it was easy to note that this felt a bit like a harbinger.

I see that smile...

Among the things we've figured out, or at least become confident of:

• Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Bloom's Parachute Flying Ant. Ants. Hoppers. Beetles. Ants. Rubber-legged ants. Scuds. Ants.
• Get flarping wacky. Use that old chewed-up, lead-wrap-showing hackle-dangling Bugger. Strip a foam hopper on sinking line. Jig flies. (More on these techniques coming in the January-February issue of American Angler.)
• If at first you don't succeed... hike around the lake. Wait. These fish and fisheries are as moody as they come. Multi-mile scrambles on top of Jeep-trail journeys rarely allow for much time, but do your best. 
• Use ants on the end of your leader or tippet, which should be connected to your fly line. Tie them on and cast them. Ants. Just so we're clear. 
• The adventure is worth the effort. The post-hike beer-endorphin cocktail is also nice.

It wasn't all lifestyles of the fishy and fjellvant, though. This past weekend I hit six lakes in one afternoon, while waking and falling asleep in my own bed. It felt a bit like Double Dare's obstacle course where I got to a lake and whacked a button and then ran on to the next. At those six lakes, I caught an entire fish. It turns out that these lakes, from 8,200 feet to 9,200 feet in the Pioneer Mountains, are still actively used for irrigation and get terribly de-watered by the end of summer.

Yeah but it was a good fish. 

As the season winds down and we prepare for a trip to the Adirondacks, I feel content with our efforts. And we still have hope for a 4-pound 7,500-foot-high cutt and maybe a 17-inch brookie before the trick-or-treaters' knock, signaling the forming ice...

Highland halftime: Schooled by the crags

So we've found ourselves peering down on brown-trout country from ascending trails searching for fishy lakes. We want the scoop: Big cutts? Goldens? Grayling? Nothing? These fisheries are hopelessly ephemeral, pending the previous winter, self-sustainability, stocking histories and sassy attitudes. There's only one way to know for sure ...

Looking back through our first half-summer of alpine trouting, it's been a bit of an uphill battle (rim-shot, please). We've surrendered many goods to the forest, fought through daily thunderstorms and muddy trails, found fishless lakes, stubborn cutthroat, extreme heat, thundershowers in zero-percent chances, all with a complete to-do list at home. No injuries, but by the grace of Gary go we ... Those who say mountain trout are easy have outted themselves as inexperienced.

Pre -midges.

On the other hand, we've charged through the thin air of the Gallatins, Madisons and Absarokas to cirques and endorphins and the divine welcome of radiating halos. To lakes we learned were secret, genius cutthroat and amateurish grayling, on long hikes with views, through anxiety, with friends.

Someday, I'll share which lakes I've found worth the effort, which lakes we've been lied to about and all the adventures. In the mean time, here's to the pain. And to big, beautiful, hungry cutthroat.

Subspecies slam?

Two subspecies of cutthroat trout are native to Montana: westslope and Yellowstone. I learned yesterday that the lake I fished has been stocked with both in the past decade and I think I caught both.

From the Montana Field Guide website:
"It can be difficult to visually distinguish westslope from other cutthroat trout subspecies, but the westslope cutthroat trout tends to have more small spots by the tail and none by the pectoral fin and the fish is more of a silvery or greenish color. The only way to be certain about identification of this subspecies is by genetic testing (AFS website 2003)."
And this:
"The Yellowstone cutthroat trout is visually distinguished ... from other cutthroat trout subspecies by its medium-large, black spots that tend to be concentrated posteriorly, and its drab brownish, yellowish, or silvery coloration, with brighter colors generally absent even in mature fish (Behnke 1992, Baxter and Stone 1995) (AFS website 2003). "
Being from the same lake with no other apparent influence, I'd say these two have to be different subspecies. What do you think?
And just for fun, some are huge in this lake:

 Even if I could get that guy to eat, I don't see how I'd have a shot at landing him. Therein is the fun.

Happy summer 2012!

Trout Lake

Yellowstone's Trout Lake is quite a place.