Chama River, NM
The view from the rim of the canyon was impressive. Five hundred feet below, the Chama River continued to cut its spectacular chasm as it has for millennia. “Wow, that is some view,” I said to our guide Jesse Lee. “Which section of the river do you plan on fishing?”
He pointed his fly rod to a wide bend in the river far below, and said, “I typically have this stretch all to myself. We have to hike over and drop in from the back side of this ridge. The hike down is not so bad, but the hike out after a day of fishing can be a butt kicker.”
“Where do we hike out?” I asked.
Again, Lee pointed down deep in the gorge to a small hogback ridge that intersected the main canyon. It looked like hell to me, and I think he could read that on my face.
He reassured me, explaining, “I always like to show my clients the hike out before we commit. We can also reach the top of this section from below; the hike is flat, but it is longer. It also gets considerably more fishing pressure. We will catch fish at either spot. What do you think?” Lee asked.
As I continued to survey the hiking route from the canyon, my wife, Dee Dee, was quick to agree to dropping in from the top. I muttered to myself, “I just hope I make it out of this one alive.”
We left the vehicles on a private-property parking spot, and I noticed that my dashboard thermometer read 28 degrees. Grateful for the brisk fall air, we picked our way down off the rimrock. We welcomed the warmth of the morning sun at first, but soon I was beginning to sweat, and we were only nearing the halfway mark on our descent. Stopping so we could catch our breath, Lee told us that on a previous trip he had paused at this same spot and as he rested, noticed movement on the opposite side of the canyon. Turned out to be a pair of mountain lions. I could sure see why they would call this place home. With heightened senses, we continued down to the river.
The Chama was turbid, slightly milky-green from silt infused in the river by work being done on El Vado Dam. In recent years, this has become the norm, but it didn’t seem to affect the fishing. After tying on nymph patterns, we began targeting all the likely spots. The first run I fished looked promising, but I didn’t move any fish.
In the cloudy water, it was imperative to work each likely-looking spot thoroughly. We needed to put the flies right on their noses. On this section of the Chama River, it’s not a matter of whether a prime run or pocket holds fish—the trout are definitely there.
But in the tinged water, they can’t see well, so we just needed to slow down and feed them by mentally dissecting each stretch of good water into narrow lanes and make sure we drifted nymphs through each of them. At Lee’s suggestion, we opted for indicator nymphing using dark-colored Baetis nymphs, crane fly larvae, and San Juan Worms.
Soon into our session on the water, I left Dee Dee and Lee, who were working some good water; I moved to the hole above them, where a boulder cushioned the currents into a fishy-looking run. Starting on the inside seam, I put the little Baetis nymph pattern down through the current, progressively extending each cast by just a few inches. After a half dozen attempts, my indicator finally vanished underwater. Setting the hook, I could feel the weight of a solid fish, and that was when the wheels came off.
Well, not necessarily the wheels, but my reel. I had not noticed that the end cap on my reel seat had come unglued. So, when I set the hook, the cap fell off and my reel plunged into the murky water at my feet. Somehow, I managed to catch the end cap as it went flying, but my reel was in the drink. Luckily for me, Lee had seen the whole thing unfold and came sprinting upriver. He followed the fly line at my feet and managed to backtrack it to my reel, which was quickly washing downriver. He retrieved the reel and began cranking in excess fly line.
Working in tandem, me with the rod and Lee with the reel, we realized landing this fish was going to be a team effort. As I hand-lined the fish, Lee gathered slack line on the reel. When the fish made a run, Lee allowed the fish to peel line off the reel. I didn’t give us much of a chance of landing this trout, but at last we slid a hook-jawed brown into the net. I’m sure if anyone were within miles of us that day, they would have heard our whoops and hollers.
This was my first look at one of the brown trout from this stretch of the Chama. Here, like many places, the trout have taken on colors that blend with the water. The milky green coloration of the old trout‘s back was almost identical to his surroundings—great camouflage against potential predators and for stalking prey. Each of the browns we landed that day shared this unique shading—the fish so perfectly matched the water tones that they virtually disappeared the moment we slipped them back into the river.
Working in conjunction with the turbid flows, the Chama’s slippery algae-covered rocks made for some interesting wading. Dee Dee discovered as much on one of our first crossings. Instead of linking up and moving across the stream together, she elected to forge ahead on her own. Concentrating on my own foot placement, I heard the commotion, and looking up, I watched her struggling to stay above water. Off balance and leaning forward, she tried to run it out, but her feet never caught up with the rest of her body and down she went, face forward into the icy water. Luckily this spot was only about 2 feet deep, and she popped up quickly, but her sweatshirt was soaked and her waders now held a share of the Chama’s cold water.
Fortunately, the sun had peeked over the canyon wall by then, casting warming rays that burned away the morning chill. I retrieved the extra sweatshirt from my backpack for Dee Dee and we were back in business. The Chama is relatively shallow at normal fishable flows and can be forded nearly anywhere. But as we discovered, the slippery rocks dictate buddy-system wading and a wading staff.
Just before lunch we came to a small bend in the river, where a modest riffle fed what appeared to be an unremarkable pool. It didn’t look like anything special to me, but I was soon proved wrong. Lee instructed us to cast just a few feet off the bank into a lethargic eddy along the inside seam of the pool. The gentle current slowly moved my fly and indicator downstream. Nothing. Picking up and casting again, I thought this was a waste of time.
On the second drift, my indicator suddenly plunged beneath the surface; when I quickly set the hook, fly line zinged off my reel. The fish tore downstream, forcing me to keep up. The powerful fish bore deep into the flow, stubbornly refusing to yield to rod pressure. Eventually, I was able to turn the fish, coaxing it back upstream where I could maneuver it into the soft tailout of the run. Lee’s deft scoop of the net revealed another 20-inch brown. A big male like my first trout of the day, but more streamlined, with that same pale green back, beautiful golden flanks, and scattered spots.
We quickly released the fish, then rounded the corner just in time to see Dee Dee’s deeply bent rod. She had a smile that said, “good fish.” We made it to her just in time to net another large brown. Then she produced three more browns before we were done, including a leviathan that came unbuttoned after launching from the river in a display of aerial acrobatics, providing us with yet another Chama River fish story.
Our hungry bellies had the dinner bell ringing, so we crawled up on the bank for lunch. While Lee made sandwiches and Dee Dee hung her wet clothes in the sunshine, I scrutinized the run some more, but even from above, nothing looked out of the ordinary, making me further appreciate having a local guide who knew this river in all its subtleties.
After lunch
After a quick bite, Lee scouted ahead while Dee Dee and I sprawled in the grass and soaked up some afternoon sun, studying the sandstone bluffs and watching as a pair of ravens danced in the thermals. Lee’s return ended our brief reverie. We had the river to ourselves and never saw another angler. Fishing our way up through the canyon, we caught another dozen fish, ample proof that the slow, methodical approach paid dividends in the murky water. Finally running low on time, we began cherry-picking the best spots.
As the shadows lengthened, we hiked up from the river and onto the ridge that would take us to the canyon rim. Climbing that gentle slope had me winded. This can’t be good, I thought, but I told myself to just keep moving, one foot after the other. I won’t lie: that steep hike was hard on me. In places, I counted 10 steps, then stopped to catch my breath, but little by little, I was making progress.
Eventually, we neared the base of the rimrock, the final hurdle, 30 feet of vertical sandstone. Still lagging behind Dee Dee and our guide, I couldn’t see how I was going to scale the cliff, but Lee hollered down, “Aim for that big cedar tree.”
They waited for me there. The tree obscured a wide fracture in the cliff, which provided a natural stairway to the top. Crawling out on the edge of the canyon, I could finally enjoy the view, and a much-needed rest.
Don’t let my difficulties making the climb from the canyon dissuade you. For a much less strenuous option, you can access the Chama below El Vado Dam from Cooper’s El Vado Ranch (aka Cooper’s) on the east bank just downstream from the dam. El Vado Ranch (see Notebook) has nine fully furnished cabins complete with bathrooms, showers, and kitchenettes, along with 21 RV sites, and a small general store. The boat ramp is the official launch for anglers and adventurers headed into the lower river canyon. Moreover, you can buy a day pass at El Vado Ranch ($8) to park on the premises and hike to the river. The ranch sits on 100 acres, but its stretch is not governed by catch-and-release rules, so it receives considerable fishing pressure.
Beginning at the south (downstream) end of the El Vado Ranch property, a 0.25-mile trail leads downstream along the river to the 3-mile-long “quality water” section of the Chama. New Mexico Department of Game & Fish signage marks the entry to this reach, which is governed by special regulations: no bait is allowed, and all fishing is catch-and-release with single barbless hooks.
Progressing downriver, the trail becomes increasingly primitive and, in some places, simply disappears into the river. You can wade-fish your way downstream, but if you want to reach the lower end of the quality water, walking the bank is much faster. Burn a little boot leather and you may well be rewarded with solitude and less-educated trout. Nonetheless, because this is a fertile tailwater, fishing can be excellent throughout the 3 miles.
Cooper’s is convenient for anglers, but the nearby towns of Chama (27 miles) and Abiquiu (58 miles) also have a variety of lodging options and appealing restaurants. Close to the action, El Vado Lake State Park sprawls along the east shore of El Vado Reservoir, 6 miles from Cooper’s (a 15-minute drive). The park has eight campgrounds with 80 campsites and 19 RV sites amid many other amenities.
And while great fishing is reason enough to visit this special part of northwestern New Mexico, lots of other attractions can enhance you experience, especially if you include fishing the Chama River as part of a New Mexico vacation. Whitewater rafting, train rides, hunting, hiking, and birding are just some of the many readily available activities; history buffs and fine art aficionados will also enjoy the area.
The 31-mile stretch of the Chama below El Vado Dam is a federally designated Wild and Scenic River that runs through a gorge of stark rock walls rising to over 1,500 feet in places. Many rafting companies offer multiday trips through the Chama River Canyon Wilderness. Peak rafting season runs throughout the spring and summer months, and during this time, the Bureau of Land Management uses a lottery system for awarding rafting permits, helping to ensure a quality experience as well as to limit human impacts on the river and riparian corridor.
Multicolored sandstone cliffs near Abiquiu have inspired famous photographers and artists, including Ansel Adams and Georgia O’Keeffe. Nestled under gnarly old cottonwoods, O’Keeffe’s former home has been converted into a conference center and museum. It also hosts the Abiquiu Studio Tour each fall. Despite the town’s small population, it has become a mecca for Southwest art, wine, and recreation.
Just up the road from El Vado is the charming community of Chama. World-class elk hunting and great fishing are prime attractions every fall, and many tourists flood the area to take in the amazing transformation of the region’s foliage. The autumn colors can be surreal—a panorama of gold, yellow, orange, and red—with some of the views so vivid that photos can’t do them justice.
Pairing the spectacular scenery with a ride in an open-air train car can be a transcendent experience. The historic Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad is one of the most authentic steam railroads left in America. The 64-mile track zigzags through giant stands of golden aspens and chugs along through the impressive Toltec Gorge. The billowing black coal smoke plume and iconic steam whistle will transport you back to a time when the West was still wild.
S. Seth Davis is a Texas-based writer, photographer, and artist who specializes in realistic fish carvings. See his work at www.stoneflyartworks.com.
Killer Baetis
Hook: TMC 2487, sizes 18‒20
Head: Black nickel Cyclops bead
Thread: Black UTC 70
Body: Green or dark green Spanflex
Thorax: Black Super Fine dubbing
Chama River
NOTEBOOK
When: April‒November; September‒early October prime for brown trout.
Where: Northern NM, appr. 100 mi. northwest of Santa Fe.
Access: Walk-in fishing and float trips both begin at Cooper’s El Vado Ranch ($8/day parking).
Headquarters: El Vado Ranch (575) 588-7354, www.elvado.com offers camping, RV sites, and rustic cabins; Chama has lodging and dining options.
Appropriate gear: 3- to 5-wt. rods, floating lines, sinking-tip lines for streamers.
Useful fly patterns: Killer Baetis, San Juan Worms, midge patterns, Crane fly larva patterns, various BH nymphs, streamers.
Necessary accessories: Sunscreen, wide-brimmed hat, lightweight clothing, polarized sunglasses, sturdy wading boots, waders, drinking water.
Fly shops/guides: Santa Fe: The Fly Fishing Outpost (shop) and Land of Enchantment Guides, (505) 629-5688, www.flyfishingoutpost.com, www.loeflyfishing.com; The Reel Life, (505) 995-8114, www.thereellife.com. Taos: Taos Fly Shop, (575) 751-1312, www.taosflyshop.com; The Solitary Angler, (575) 758-5653, www.thesolitaryangler.com. Eagle Nest: Eagle Nest Fly Shack, (505) 485-8328, www.eaglenestflyshack.com. Antonito, CO: Conejos River Anglers, (719) 376-5660, www.conejosriveranglers.com.
Nonresident license: $12/1 day, $24/5 days, $56/annual.
Books/maps: Fly Fishing in Northern New Mexico edited by Craig Martin; Flyfisher’s Guide to New Mexico by Van Beacham; Fly Fishing New Mexico by Taylor Streit. Guide to the Rio Chama, El Vado Reservoir to Abiquiu Reservoir, New Mexico by RiverMaps.
