Photo by Don Vachini

Brown trout are most common but brook are caught in a bunch of little rivers that head off to the east from the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

I was so determined to fish “big name” spots that I would drive by the smaller streams without giving them a second glance.

On my first trip to Wyoming, I wasted precious fishing time by being determined to catch a Snake River cutthroat on the actual Snake River. I drove through the Salt River Valley without slowing down.

The Snake was as beautiful as ever, but loaded with like-minded anglers. Every public access from Palisades to Jackson was crowded with folks who looked like they were in a photo shoot for an Orvis catalog.

Two fishless days later, I decided to give the Salt a try. The sign said I could keep one fish longer than 19 inches and three under 11 inches.

Skunked in the Upper Snake, I didn’t have much confidence in this smaller and lesser-known tributary. Was I ever wrong!

In short order, I filled my limit and then released big, beautiful Snake River cutthroats till the sun melted into Idaho. That experience and many more like it have turned me into a big fan of fishing lesser-known tributary streams -- “fishing the ditches,” I call it -- that many anglers ignore completely.

Here in my home state of New Mexico, that often means fishing streams so small that many folks think I’m crazy...

Until they see the fish I catch.

SEEK SPRINGS
The tiny streams that trickle out of the high country offer several advantages over the famous rivers they merge into. Besides the solitude you’ll find while fishing these no-name creeks, the action is almost always faster. And in some cases, the chance of catching a real trophy is better.

There are a few reasons for this:
• More consistent water quality: Small streams are spring-fed, as well as less affected by run-off from thunderstorms, which brings muddy water at lower elevations.
• Less pressure from anglers: Fish may live longer, get bigger and still remain easier to catch.

In the southern Rocky Mountain States, the last decade has been marked by “-est” weather -- hottest, coldest, wettest, driest. Each extreme has come on the heels of the preceding one. A prolonged drought was broken by a wet winter, followed by another dry spell, which was interrupted by the strongest monsoon season on record.

Those climate changes have affected wildlife behavior in ways that will keep biologists busy for years, analyzing data and counting tree rings. But if you’re more interested in the immediate effect of climate changes on your outdoor pursuits, here’s my take on where to find trout now -- and how to catch them.

CHANGING RIVERS
The Rio Grande north of Espanola, N.M., has been a trout stream for as long as anyone can remember. I’ve lived on its banks for 41 years, and speak from personal experience when I tell you that things are changing on our country’s second-longest river.