The Lower Owens River

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The author on a late October day, fishing the Wild Trout section of the lower Owens River. During autumn, winter, and early spring, flows here are usually low and the river easily wadeable.

You have probably heard the famous saying, attributed to Mark Twain, “Whiskey is for drinking, water is for fighting over.” Researchers can’t find any evidence that Mark Twain actually wrote or said it, but it sure sounds like something he would have said. It’s certainly true that there was lots of fighting over the water in the Owens River, first in the Owens Valley with dynamite and later in courtrooms with lawyers.

The Water Wars

In the nineteenth century, the Owens River flowed unchecked and undammed for 180 river miles, born of pure, high mountain spring water, winding through the verdant Long Valley, gaining strength and volume along the way from freestone tributaries of Sierra snowmelt, losing elevation and roaring through the sheerwalled Owens Gorge, snaking through the arid Owens Valley, then finally pouring into a vast Owens Lake, which covered 110 square miles. A steamboat operation ferried passengers and cargo across the lake, a trip that took three hours.

Problems for the Owens began at the outset of the twentieth century, when Los Angeles political power players William Mulholland and Fred Eaton concocted a scheme to build an aqueduct to transport Owens River water to the city of Los Angeles. What an awful waste, they thought, for a river to pour into an immense, shallow lake with no outlets, then have all that water evaporate in the dry desert air, when Los Angeles desperately needed water to grow.

They began covertly acquiring options on land, with associated water rights, for nearly the entire Owens Valley adjacent to the Owens River. Eaton was the mayor of Los Angeles, and Mulholland was the superintendent of the Los Angeles Water Company, which later became the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power — the LADWP. In addition to buying up all the water rights, via insidious political maneuvering, they blocked the US Bureau of Reclamation from developing water infrastructure projects for the residents of the Owens Valley. By 1905, the deed was done, and Mulholland announced: “The deal by which Los Angeles . . . becomes the owner of the purest snow water has been nailed.” The headline in the LA Times declared “ TITANIC PROJECT TO GIVE CITY A RIVER.”

The clandestine land acquisitions had one enduring benefit: the Owens River corridor has remained largely undeveloped to this day, because the LADWP owns most of the land.

Construction of the LA Aqueduct began in 1908 and, remarkably, was completed five years later, on time and under budget. The scope of the project was comparable to the building of the Panama Canal. The aqueduct included 215 miles of pipeline and covered concrete conduit, along with 233 miles of open canal. The total price tag, including land options and construction, was 25 million dollars, an astonishing figure at the time.

Mulholland’s ally in the federal government was none other than President Theodore Roosevelt, who attempted to quantify who would benefit most from the water: “It is a hundred or thousandfold more important to the State . . . if this water is used by the city than if used by the people of the Owens Valley.” Owens Valley ranchers and farmers, feeling powerless and abandoned by the government, watched as their water rights and livelihood vanished. After more diversions and groundwater pumping, the last 60 river miles went dry. The vast Owens Lake slowly evaporated into a dry lake bed by 1924.

“Water wars” ensued from 1920 to 1930, when on more than several occasions the aqueduct was dynamited, cutting off the flow of water to Los Angeles. In Cadillac Desert, Marc Reisner describes Mulholland’s response when several blasts demolished pipelines near Big Pine in 1927: “a special train loaded with city detectives and high-velocity Winchester carbines and machine guns rolled out of Union Station for the Owens Valley. Roadblocks were erected on the highway; all cars with male occupants were searched; floodlights beamed across the valley as if it were a giant penitentiary.” Mulholland would eventually negotiate, offering more money to the holdouts, but his loathing of the monkey wrenchers was clear. According to Reisner, Mulholland “refused to refer to anyone in the Owens Valley by any other name than ‘dynamiter’ ” and malevolently “half-regretted the demise of so many of the valley’s orchard trees, because now there were no longer enough live trees to hang all the troublemakers who live there.”

Ironically, following his monumental water grab, Mulholland’s career came crashing down in 1928 after the St. Francis Dam in Los Angeles collapsed the day after he gave it a passing grade during his inspection. A 100-foot-high wall of water, roaring through canyons and riverbeds, drowned at least 431 victims. The bodies of some of them washed all the way into the Pacific Ocean, 54 miles away.

In 1925, a California state law was passed that allowed Los Angeles to purchase commercial and private property in towns from whomever wanted to sell. By 1933, the LADWP had acquired virtually all the relevant remaining properties and water rights in Inyo County. But Angelinos’ thirst for water was insatiable. In 1930, LA voters passed a 38-million-dollar bond referendum to buy land and water rights in the Mono Basin and extend the aqueduct a hundred miles farther north, diverting water that f lowed into Mono Lake. In 1934, construction began on a 12-mile tunnel, dubbed the Mono Craters Tunnel, connecting the Mono Basin to the Owens River deep underground. A new, larger dam was built at Grant Lake, which collected all the runoff from Rush Creek and its tributaries. An aqueduct conduit diverted Lee Vining Creek, Walker Creek, and Parker Creek into Grant Lake. Below Grant Lake, Rush Creek was diverted via the Mono Craters Tunnel to the headwaters of the upper Owens River. Once diversions began in 1941, Mono Lake’s water level began to drop precipitously. The 126-foot-high Long Valley Dam, completed in 1941, impounded all the upper Owens River water to form Crowley Lake.

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Expect to do some serious rock-hopping when fishing the Owens River Gorge. The effort will get you into voracious wild brown trout that will attack well-presented mayfly and caddis patterns.

To mitigate the anticipated damage that the Crowley dam would wreak on the river’s fish, the Hot Creek Agreement was executed in 1940, in which the City of Los Angeles agreed to provide funding for the land, water rights, access roads, and construction of the Hot Creek Hatchery, which became one of the eastern Sierra’s most productive fish hatcheries.

Before construction of Crowley Lake’s dam, the Owens River f lowed at over 200 cubic feet per second through the 10-mile-long Owens Gorge. Big brown trout flourished in deep, boulder-studded pools. In 1953, the LADWP completely dewatered the gorge, diverting the entirety of the river’s flow into huge pipes that traveled through three power plants for hydroelectric power generation. Witnesses watched 30-inch brown trout writhing in the mud as the pools ran dry. Below the gorge, the Pleasant Valley Reservoir Dam, constructed in 1955, further blocked spawning access for wild trout. With these dams and diversions, the damage to the river’s wild fish population was immeasurable, and before anyone realized the full extent of the harm the water projects had created, it was already too late. It would take years of litigation to start fixing things.

Restoration efforts began at the tailwater below the Pleasant Valley Dam. In 1962, the California Department of Fish and Game (CDFG), now the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW), and the City of Los Angeles reached an agreement for the city to finance a spawning channel 1,000 feet long and 15 feet wide, with 18 inches of gravel, located a half mile below the dam, and to provide minimum channel flows. Just downstream from the spawning channel, the 13-mile Wild Trout section received its official designation in 1967 and today is a crown jewel of the CDFW wild-trout program, with a thriving, self-sustaining population of wild brown trout and catch-and-release regulations.

Toxic dust clouds blowing off Owens Dry Lake inundated local residents, and more lawsuits ensued. In 2007, in one of the largest river restoration projects ever undertaken in the United States, 62 winding river miles leading into Owens Dry Lake were rewatered and are now home to thriving populations of largemouth bass and carp.

The Fishing

For fly fishers seeking trout on the lower Owens, the river can basically be divided into four sections: the Owens River Gorge, Pleasant Valley Reservoir, the Wild Trout section, and downstream from Five Bridges. While the Wild Trout section is the jewel in the diadem of the lower Owens trout fishery, each of the sections offers special attractions, and taken together, the lower Owens offers a spectrum of different kinds of fishing for both wild browns and stocked rainbows.

The Owens River Gorge

The first time I visited the Owens River Gorge was for rock climbing. It was in 1985, and we were exploring, prospecting for new climbs. The sheer cliffs were impressive from a climbing perspective, and we were among the first rock climbers to pioneer climbs in the gorge. The vertical walls of volcanic rock were riddled with small pockets, facilitating spectacular face climbs, but the gorge was a dry, desolate, austere place. A hot wind whipped down the canyon, swirling silt from the dry riverbed into dust devils, coating our gear and ropes and stinging our eyes with fine gray dust. We weren’t excited about returning anytime soon.

The gorge was rewatered by accident. In 1991, a huge section of the LADWP diversion pipe collapsed, and water gushed into the gorge from the break. A lawsuit citing the obscure Fish and Game Text Box: BOB GAINESCode 5937 provision, requiring sufficient water to be maintained below a dam “to keep in good condition any fish that may be planted or exist below the dam,” was brought against the LADWP and the State Water Resources Board by the Mono County District Attorney on behalf of the CDFG. In the 1980s, a similar case, spearheaded by Dick Dahlgren of Mammoth Lakes, was argued and won to rewater Rush Creek below Grant Lake, but it took 10 years of litigation. With the gorge, instead of extended litigation, Mono County, the LADWP, and the CDFG decided to work together to create a new fishery. In 1994, 30,000 brown trout were stocked, and a minimum flow of 35 cfs was agreed upon. The planted trout took a real liking to the gorge environment, and in a few years, the browns were thriving and self-sustaining. The river canyon slowly began its transformation into riparian habitat once again.

I returned to the gorge in the late 1990s, this time for fly fishing. Looking down from the rim of the gorge, I immediately noticed the change — a greenbelt corridor lined the river’s course. I was skeptical after reading the LADWP website’s description of fishing in the gorge, thinking it might be propaganda to assuage their guilt for what they destroyed:

“Today, the Gorge brown trout fishery is without doubt the best trout fishery in the Eastern Sierra Nevada, and probably one of the best trout fisheries in the West.” I rock-hopped for miles, casting dry flies into little pools teeming with unsuspecting wild browns. Although the fish were small, to my surprise, it was one of best days of fly fishing I’d ever had.

It wasn’t until 2010, after years of procrastinated study, that a final LADWP Gorge Restoration Project plan was finalized and a flow schedule was fully implemented. Base f lows would range from 35 to 85 cfs, with a target average of 48 cfs. Once a year, channel maintenance pulse f lows up to 680 cfs and up to 7 days in duration would be released “to clean fine sediment from pools and gravel bottoms and redistribute them to floodplain surfaces.” “In five years of each 20year period,” a riparian recruitment pulse f low also would be released (up to 680 cfs and lasting up to 27 days) “to promote riparian seedling establishment on floodplains . . . and to sustain root growth of these seedlings until they reach the water table associated with the base flows.”

In 2019, CDFW environmental scientist Nick Buckmaster conducted an electroshock study to count fish numbers in the gorge, estimating the population to be as many as 5,000 browns per mile in some sections. “The problem is they are all small,” Buckmaster says. “Their growth rate slows down around 5 inches, and most of the fish in the Gorge are less than 8-inches long  By the time they get to 8 inches, they are geriatric fish.” For fish to grow big, that’s a problem, since to become apex predators that eat other fish, switching from aquatic insects to smaller fish as their main food source, brown trout need to grow to at least 14 inches in length, which is when the rapid growth rate that becoming piscivorous triggers starts to take place. It’s hoped that the new flow regimens, designed to create deeper pools and ambush habitat for larger brown trout, will make a difference. Some say that it’s already happening. Time will tell.

The Owens Gorge has become an international climbing destination, with hundreds of bolted sport climbs on the vertical cliffs. In his guidebook Owens River Gorge Climbs, Marty Lewis describes the transition to a rewatered gorge from a climber’s perspective: “The restoration has been practically magical. Trees, real ones, have grown up and the vegetation in some areas borders on Amazonian. All sorts of creatures are flourishing here as well. On quiet mornings one can see herons and hawks, fishermen and squirrels, behaving like animals on the river’s edge.”

Access to the gorge isn’t easy, and you’ll want to be in good physical condition to fish it, especially during the warmer months, due to the steep climb out. It’s best to go with a buddy, because cell phone service is nonexistent in the depths of the gorge, and hazards exist: rattlesnakes and miles of challenging boulder-hopping along the river. You can easily wet wade in the gorge, but you’ll want long pants or half waders even in the warmer months to protect yourself from stinging nettles.

The gorge’s wild brown trout, averaging 7 to 13 inches, are voracious. A 4-weight rod with a floating line is perfect for the gorge. Almost any small mayfly or caddis dry-fly pattern will work if it’s presented without drag. Small terrestrial patterns will get a lot of attention, too, and if the fish become choosy, try a hopper/dropper combination, such as a size 18 Pheasant Tail Nymph under a size 10 grasshopper imitation, or a size 20 Zebra Midge under an Elk Hair Caddis or Parachute Adams.

Pleasant Valley Reservoir

Below the gorge, the lower Owens flows into and out of the narrow, two-mile-long Pleasant Valley Reservoir, tucked into a deep, rock-walled canyon. The lake has a population of both stocked rainbows and wild browns. Some say it’s not pretty, because the high canyon walls block the majestic views of the eastern Sierra high country, but I find the surreal confines and austere setting starkly appealing.

Big fish live here, and knowing that makes the fishing more exciting, especially when I’m in my float tube probing the boulder-studded drop-offs with a big streamer as the late afternoon sun sinks behind the canyon wall and the deep water goes dark. Twenty-pounders have been caught in the reservoir.

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The Owens Gorge is popular with climbers.

The quarter-mile section of river flowing into the reservoir is reminiscent of the East Walker’s Miracle Mile, with slippery wading and long riffles interspersed with pocket water. Wild browns populate this section of the Owens, along with stocked rainbows that have migrated up from the reservoir. Nymphing under an indicator works great here. When the flows are low, dry-fly fishing can be excellent, especially if there’s a Baetis hatch. When power is being generated at the hydroelectric plant, the flow increases dramatically, and the water level rises quickly, so caution is advised when wading.

Pleasant Valley Reservoir is best fished from a float tube. I rig mine with backpack straps, then walk the road that parallels the reservoir to my preferred put-in point. About midway along the reservoir (a mile or so hike in from either end) is a boat ramp where the CDFW stocks rainbow trout. Before 1998, float tubing wasn’t allowed on the reservoir. Gary Gunsolley, who owned Brock’s Fly Fishing in Bishop, lobbied the LADWP and got them to agree to allow float tubes. Thanks to Gary, who arranged a deal for convicts from the local prison to volunteer as laborers, you’ll also find several float tube put-ins on the rocky shoreline, the first being about a quarter of a mile in from the bridge on the northern approach.

Woolly Buggers and baitfish imitations, when stripped on full sinking lines along the drop-offs and in the deeper water, draw fish up from the depths to strike.

At the south end of the reservoir, fishing near the dam is prohibited, and the no-fishing zone is cordoned off with buoys. At the northern end, at the inlet area, is a unique situation. You’ll notice a distinct current; you can put in here and drift with the current into the lake proper. In the inlet section, I prefer a clear intermediate line with a weighted fly, twitching and trolling the fly as I drift with the current.

The Crowley midging technique, hanging one or two chironomid patterns under a strike indicator, employed in the shallower sections, along the lake edges, and near the inlet, can be as productive here for both stocked rainbows and wild browns as at neighboring Crowley Lake. For best results, look for a mud bottom with a consistent water depth of 10 to 15 feet.

The Wild Trout Section

The section of the lower Owens River from below Pleasant Valley Reservoir to the Five Bridges Crossing is designated as the Wild Trout section, encompassing about 13 miles of river habitat. The Wild Trout Section is known for its easy access and high numbers of wild brown trout. Rainbows can be found here, too, both wild and stocked, albeit in lower numbers. The prime time to fish the famed Wild Trout section is October through November, when the flows are low and the air temperatures are cool, then again in February through March, before the flows ramp up again. Flows from 100 to 200 cfs, typical during the fall, winter, and early spring, are easily wadeable.

During late spring and early summer, flows start ramping up. When flows exceed 350 cfs, fishing becomes difficult and the river is impossible to wade safely. Summer is unbearably hot at midday, with typical daytime temperatures climbing above 100 Fahrenheit, leaving only short windows in the early morning or late afternoon to fish comfortably. When the sun dips below the mountains to the west, summertime caddis hatches can be abundant, but be prepared for mosquitos.

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A beautifully colored lower Owens brown trout.

Nymphing is the most effective technique in the Wild Trout section. The standard nymphing rig is one or two flies on a short (5-to-7-foot) leader with a small split shot to get the f lies down toward the bottom. I like to use a small white foam indicator, because it blends in with the foamy air bubbles. A good rule of thumb for river fishing is to set your indicator 1.5 times the depth of the water you’re fishing, then adjust the weight based on the velocity of the water — a slower run requires less weight to sink the fly. When the flows are low, the contours of the river bottom reveal themselves.

Look for a run that empties into a deeper pool or bucket, then cast your nymph rig well upstream so your offering has time to get down before it drops into the sweet spot.

Some standard patterns that match the various aquatic insects (size 16 to 18) are the Hare’s Ear Nymph, Pheasant Tail Nymph, Bird’s Nest, Prince Nymph, Chamois Caddis, and LaFontaine’s Sparkle Pupa. In Sierra Trout Guide, Ralph Cutter gives a great tip on how best to fish caddis imitations: “soak a fuzzy nymph like a Bird’s Nest or Hare’s Ear [in a dry fly floatant]. The floatant repels water, and air bubbles cling tenaciously to the nymph just as they do on the caddis…. [S]plit shot on the leader will overcome the buoyancy.” I’ve found this technique to be very effective using powder desiccant. “It’s the deadliest method I know of,” Ralph writes.

For dry-fly patterns, size 18 to 20 Blue-Winged Olives, size 18 Pale Morning Duns, size 16 to 18 Yellow Sallies, size 16 to 18 Elk Hair Caddises, and size 14 to 16 Stimulators are some of the standard producers.

Hatches are virtually nonexistent in the coldest winter months, except for midges, so I go with a size 18 or 20 Zebra Midge with a silver bead head for nymphing during the wintertime. For a dry fly, a Griffith’s Gnat or small Baetis pattern in size 20 or even 22, dropped onto a slower pool or back eddy, can at times produce surprisingly good results.

Downstream from Five Bridges

The farther downstream you get from Pleasant Valley Reservoir, the fewer wild browns you’ll find and the more stocked rainbows. Below the Five Bridges crossing, the river becomes virtually inaccessible due to thick shoreline vegetation, and access is limited to where perpendicular roads cross the river, which are few and far between. From Five Bridges crossing to the Highway 6 bridge, fishing pressure is very light. However, local guides figured out long ago that this section can be effectively fished from a drift boat and that it’s loaded with fish — not as many as the Wild Trout section, but with trout that rarely see flies and are easily duped. In this section, you’ll catch more rainbows than browns, with a chance at bigger rainbows that are stocked by the CDFW and private hatcheries.

Tom Loe, who used to guide here for many years, developed the “dipand-strip” technique on this section, fishing from an anchored drift boat, working the undercut banks with his namesake Loeberg streamer stripped on a sink-tip line with the rod tip in the water. Gary Gunsolley, who also guided here for many years, preferred Kelly Galloup’s Zoo Cougar pattern for his go-to streamer.

Near Big Pine, the river flows into Tinemaha Reservoir, the last reservoir on the LA Aqueduct system before the river’s terminus at Owens Dry Lake.

Below Tinemaha Reservoir, as the river flows south toward Lone Pine, largemouth bass and carp become the dominant species. The final miles of the rewatered section below Lone Pine are barely navigable and difficult to fish, because the river becomes choked with vegetation.

Worth Fighting For

When my grandfather died, my parents gave me his old bamboo fly rod. It’s crudely built and falling apart, but meaningful to me, because it was crafted by his own hands. When I hold that rod, I’m reminded of the tales he told me of the good old days on the Owens River, when 10-pound browns lurked in deep pools among the boulders as the dull roar of the mighty Owens reverberated throughout the Owens Gorge. That roar is gone now, but the river has returned, resurrected, now more like a whisper, a reminder that Los Angeles wouldn’t have grown into what it is today without what it needed the most and took, by chicanery, albeit not without a fight. After all, water is worth fighting for.


If You Go…

To get to the Owens River Gorge, head 14 miles north from Bishop on Highway 395, then turn right at the Paradise exit onto Gorge Road. Or from Mammoth Lakes, head south on Highway 395 for 30 miles to the Paradise exit and turn left. Head east for half a mile on Gorge Road to a T. A right turn here will take you down three-quarters of a mile to the lower power plant parking for access to the lowest section of the gorge and to a half-mile section of the Owens River just above Pleasant Valley Reservoir. This is also the parking area for the northern approach to Pleasant Valley Reservoir. A left turn at the Gorge Road T leads to three other access points for the middle gorge, central gorge, and upper gorge.

To get to the middle gorge, turn left (north) at the T and drive three miles, then turn right on the paved Middle Power Plant Road and park about a quarter of a mile down the road on the right side, well before the locked gate. From there, it’s about a mile hike down the steep paved road to the river, about eight hundred feet below.

To get to the central gorge, turn left at the Gorge Road T and drive 4.5 miles to a dirt road leading off to the right where a powerline drops down into the gorge. Park a quarter of a mile down this dirt road at a transmission tower. This is the most difficult approach into the gorge, used mainly by rock climbers, and it involves a bit of steep scrambling where you’ll need both hands for balance — not the kind of approach you’ll make with a fly rod in hand, so it’s best to carry a pack with your rod in a tube for this approach. From the transmission tower, walk north for about a hundred feet, then scramble down steeper rock for about thirty feet, then head north, passing through a notch until you reach a gully filled with talus. Follow this gully a few hundred feet down to the river. By making this more difficult approach you’ll be rewarded by encountering far fewer fly fishers and casting to fish that are far less wary than in the middle gorge or upper gorge areas.

To access the upper gorge, turn left at the Gorge Road T and drive six miles, then turn right on Upper Power Plant Road and park on the right (east) side of the road just before the locked gate. Make sure you don’t block the road so LADWP vehicles can pass through. It’s about a half-mile hike down the paved Upper Power Plant Road to get to the river.

Fishing in the gorge is allowed year-round, with no special regulations and a five-fish limit. However, access to the gorge is closed during periodic high-water releases by the LADWP.

Pleasant Valley Reservoir can be accessed from either end: from the north end via the southernmost Gorge Road and lower power plant parking area and from the south end via Pleasant Valley Dam Road. A paved road (no vehicles allowed) parallels the reservoir all along its eastern flank, connecting both ends, allowing easy access if you’re willing to hike. Many shore fishers use carts to transport their gear. From the north end, there’s a bridge that leads to the east side of the river, then it’s about a quarter-mile walk to the reservoir; from the south end, it’s only a few hundred yards. Fishing is allowed year-round with a five-fish limit and no special regulations.

To get to the Wild Trout section, head six miles north of Bishop on Highway 395, then turn right at Pleasant Valley Road. In 1.8 miles, you’ll cross the river, then you’ll come to Chalk Bluff Road. A left turn on Chalk Bluff Road takes you to the river section immediately downstream from Pleasant Valley Reservoir, and at the end of the road is parking for the southern approach to the reservoir. If you turn right on Chalk Bluff Road, the road parallels the river through the entire Wild Trout section, with numerous short dirt roads leading down toward the river, providing excellent access. Fishing is allowed year-round, catch-and-release only, with barbless hooks. The section from the footbridge at Pleasant Valley Campground upstream up to Pleasant Valley Reservoir Dam (except for the spawning channel immediately below the dam, where no fishing is allowed) allows a two-trout limit with no restrictions from the last Saturday in April to November 15. The rest of the year, barbless, catch-and-release only regulations apply.

Pleasant Valley Campground is conveniently located for fishing both the gorge and the Wild Trout section. Reservations can be made for November through May at www.reserveamerica.com. From June through October, the campground is first come, first served only. There are 75 sites — $14 per night, $98 per week.

You should be able to check water flows for the lower Owens below Pleasant Valley Reservoir online at https://wsoweb.ladwp.com/Aqueduct/realtime/norealtime.htm. At the time of this writing, though, the website was offline.

Bob Gaines

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