Last summer brought record crowds into the eastern Sierra. People seeking respite from coronavirus restrictions streamed into Inyo and Mono Counties in record numbers. The same thing happened in the Tahoe-Truckee area and other parts of rural California. There was an increase in the number of anglers trying to find a place on the water and a good deal of grumbling about their presence.
When I first began to fish the east side of the Sierra on a regular basis some thirty years ago, finding someplace to fish not mobbed by other anglers was just a matter of going somewhere that was not well known. Crowds were not common, except in a very few locations, and the number of people out and about paled in comparison with today’s levels. That had changed a bit by the time that I moved to the area in the early 2000s, but it was still possible to get away from other anglers with a reasonable amount of effort. Now that picture has changed markedly. For me, solitude is an important part of the fishing experience. Some might say that this reflects a sort of social ineptitude on my part, and they could be on to something, but I want to be able to move at my own pace, take time to look at my surroundings, listen to and see the birds, and get recharged. Finding this now requires a bit more thought and planning, but thankfully, it is still quite possible. At first blush, it would seem that the solution would be pretty simple and the same as it ever was: go where others don’t, and avoid the places that appear on the blackboards at the fishing store or website. In truth, it is a bit more complicated. Avoiding the crowd is not a question of just finding a new place to fish. There’s a crowd of you all looking for the same thing, and you’re all using the same resources to find a place away from each other. With the proliferation of guidebooks and internet postings, there are probably few, if any hidden gems that have not received some form of public notice, and you can wind up encountering other anglers wherever you fish, from the most out-of-the-way waters to famous blue-ribbon streams. The trick is to know how to maximize your solitude at any point along that spectrum.
Avoiding a crowd starts with a consideration of what your tolerance for other people is on any given day. “Crowding” is a relative term. The number of people I might encounter on an “uncrowded” day at Hot Creek would send me fleeing from most other locations. Finding a sense of solitude involves balancing competing values in the fishing experience. You might desire to fish iconic waters, to fish for large fish, to experience lots of hookups, to find easy access, and to experience a sense of being out all by yourself.
It is unlikely that you can realize all these objectives in a single destination. Iconic waters such as Hot Creek draw anglers from all over. That does not mean that I do not fish Hot Creek. I am there often. It does mean that I understand that the best I can hope for is an experience that is “less crowded,” and I have to be prepared for that when I leave the house, accepting that I will be sharing a prime water with others and still expecting to enjoy the day.
Take a Hike
The remote lakes and streams in the Sierra backcountry would seem to promise angling at the other end of the crowdsolitude spectrum from Hot Creek, but to avoid crowding during the pandemic, fly fishers have been among those crowding the wilderness areas. As a result, if you want to head to the backcountry seeking a truly solitary angling experience, it will require some time and work. The demands on the backcountry have changed since the days when I could just grab the backpack and head off wherever I wanted on a moment’s notice. Now there are trailhead quotas, and they are regularly filled. Many people are left disappointed that they could not get their first choice and spill over into what were formerly less traveled routes. This past summer, the Pacific Crest and John Muir Trails were described as freeways, with large groups of through and day hikers from late May until October. For the fly fisher, the good news is that the majority of these travelers are not looking to fish. If they do cast a line, it is usually at a readily accessible location near the trail or at an established end-of-day destination. You can still find solitude, but it will have to come after you have worked your way past the paths most traveled.
If you are planning an overnight trip, finding such destinations and navigating the permitting process to gain entry requires advance planning. A good place to start is with angling guidebooks to the John Muir Trail and other areas of the Sierra. [Editor’s note: And check out back issues of Cal Fly Fisher.] There are also trip reports and online discussions on the internet. Remember that these online sources come with the caveat that not all information on the web is reliable. Plus, if you can find a reliable online source, so can a lot of others. A call to the land management agency or a local backpacking shop can get you some idea of which trailheads have less demand. Get out your maps and look for areas within a workable distance in terms of the time you have available both to hike and to fish. Sometimes you can get advice on these areas from a fly shop, but don’t forget to pose the question to the hiking store, as well. Sometimes, when I have sought advice at a fly shop, I have often been greeted with skepticism. A fly shop worker wants you to be successful and come back and is likely to point you to what is tried and true and generally popular. Make it clear that you want to break free from that and are willing to go to some trouble to do so. Remember, too, that many spots are secrets not easily given up. Assure people that you will care for them and guard any knowledge that is being shared. Make sure that promise is kept.
The major trail arteries in the eastern Sierra funnel people from parking areas to popular hiking destinations. Most people on the trail are there to go to those places, and their effort and attention are directed to doing just that. The more willing you are to walk farther and then set off cross-country to a lake or stream, the more likely you are to find yourself camping and fishing alone. The people you do see are just walking by; they will not stay at your location. I have spent many a spectacular day on high alpine streams that were within sight of the John Muir Trail, if you knew where to look. My wife and I have fished them for hours without seeing anyone else on the water, just a parade of people in a hurry to move on down the trail.
The same principles apply to making a day hike into the backcountry. You can fish by yourself on quality water if you are not put off by the idea that you will be seeing people walking by. Walk to the other side of the lake or follow the stream when it drops away from the trail, and you will have space to yourself. One of my favorite backcountry fishing areas is reached by one of the Sierra’s most heavily used trails, but I can still manage to fish alone for a whole day by veering away from that trail at every opportunity. Be willing to explore deadfalls, swamps and bogs, willow thickets, and other places that present difficulties. Fish where the stream cannot be seen from the trail.

Seek the Ignored
However, wilderness travel is not required to locate water on the east side where you can find space to yourself. A quick look at a Forest Service or similar map will show you that there is a lot of water out here. Find an area in which you have an interest and identify potential streams and lakes. A check with the Department of Fish and Wildlife will confirm if these hold trout. Eastern Sierra waters flow out of the mountains toward Highway 395. Most of the streams can be reached from a lateral road. Many of these are dirt roads, which are obviously less traveled than those that are paved. Many of the roads roughly parallel creeks and provide access. Stretches of water that connect high mountain lakes also are favorites of mine. They often flow away from the road or trail that carries people to the lake, and getting to them can require some scrambling. Even when the creek is near the trail or road, almost everyone just humps on by on their way to a better-known location.
Many streams also flow through or near Forest Service campgrounds. Roughly 90 percent of the angling on these streams takes place within a quarter of a mile of them. Move away from the campgrounds. Better yet, fish these creeks when the campgrounds are closed. Learn to fish less obvious water. People pound the pools. There are reliable spots on heavily fished streams that I have seen few if any people take time to work. They hold fish, but do not scream that at you.
Another good idea is to be curious. The little strip of water that runs under Highway 395 might well hold some nice opportunities, once you get out of sight and earshot of the roadway. Be willing to start from the most difficult access points, where the location of the stream is not even visible. Again, make friends with deadfalls, willow snarls, marsh mud, areas of rockfall, and places without obvious trails.
It is still even possible to find secluded water on a creek listed on that shop blackboard. Just because a stream is listed on the board does not mean it should be written off. If you are interested in something on the board, ask someone in the shop where they send people to fish, then avoid those places. There can be a lot of stream that is relatively unfished because it is not immediately adjacent to parking areas. As an example, there are many people who make the trip to the Middle Fork of the San Joaquin River near Mammoth, but I have rarely encountered other people in the places where I fish it. Getting to these requires a bit of walking, but it is worth the effort.
Lemonade from Lemons
Finally, as I noted, there are waters that I want to fish even though there will be other people there every day of the year. In the eastern Sierra, you are not going to be able to spend much time on Hot Creek, the upper and lower Owens, and the East Walker without coming upon other anglers. However, there are ways to minimize the problem. There are going to be times when these waters can be less congested. Poor weather, with windy, cold, wet conditions, will keep people off the water. Obviously, weekends are more problematic, especially holidays. Generally, crowds are thin in late October and November and early May. Bear in mind, too, that on some waters peak angling pressure coincides with spawning seasons. And there is a lot more fishable water on these streams than you might think, with the exception of Hot Creek. The Wild Trout section of the lower Owens can get hammered, but there are other productive areas on that river — you just have to work to find them. The East Walker is more than the Miracle Mile. Find reaches that are widely separated from access points.
Deciding to spend a day at a place like Hot Creek does not require an attitude of sullen resignation. If the presence of other anglers is going to spoil the experience, don’t go. It will be better for you to not spend hours grousing about the people and certainly better for those around you. For me, fishing Hot Creek requires some serious concentration in terms of reading water, casting, and sometimes detecting the takes. There are times when the fish are stupid, but there are more when they are not. If I am fishing well, I am locked into my own sphere of concentration, and those other folks sort of melt away. When I cannot maintain that focus, it is probably time to go home.These days, I temper my expectations of solitude wherever I fish. It is not as realistic to expect to find solitary fishing in July as October. If I want to go out in July, I have to understand the whole of the east side is crowded and either head off into the far backcountry or put my mind in a place where it will not be put off by the presence of other people. I know that I cannot expect just to stumble upon unfished water — finding it requires thought and work. I also know that I am part of the crowd that every other angler does not want to see on “their” water. It is up to me to act the way I hope the people around me will behave.
If You Go…
The summer of 2020 found the Sierra Nevada overwhelmed by visitors. Understandably, people who were pent up in their houses in cities where they were not allowed to participate in their normal activities decided it would be a good idea to escape to the outdoors. Unfortunately, when they got there, many accommodations were closed or had severely restricted availability, and campgrounds were locked up tight. Undaunted, people just kept coming and squatted (in every sense of the word) anywhere they could get their vehicles. Land-management agencies were unable to keep up with the problems. Many people were new to outdoor recreation and did not know how to manage their activities responsibly, and there was no one available to help them. Campfires sprouted up everywhere, and residents throughout the Sierra lived in continual fear of wildfires. The most effective responses to the situation were led by citizen volunteer groups who worked on education, trying to direct folks to appropriate locations and activities and endless cleanup. The coming summer will probably be less fraught with these problems, and both the government agencies and the public will have learned some lessons. If you do plan to visit, please try to get information in advance about current lodging and camping availability and where you can safely and legally set up shop. Practice safe and responsible camping, and help out others who might not be as experienced as you are.
— Peter Pumphrey