Untroubled Waters : Commotion Over Mountain Lions at an Ebb as Trout and Catfish Once Again Become the Hottest Topics at Lake Cuyamaca

Nestled amid the pines and cedars, flanked by the highest peaks in the Cleveland National Forest, Lake Cuyamaca sparkles under the bright sun.

It’s spring in this small mountain community and with it comes an increase in activity both in and around the lake.

Rainbow trout are waking up and becoming feisty, as they do when the water warms. Deer are grazing in green meadows. Bobcats are pouncing on squirrels and mice.

And mountain lions are lurking in the shadows.

The big cats have been a hot topic here since December when, only two miles down the road, barely within the boundaries of the 13,000-acre Cuyamaca Rancho State Park, one fatally attacked Iris Kenna, 56, as she walked alone on a paved road. The lion was subsequently hunted and killed.

It was the second attack in two years on park grounds, the other occurring in 1993 when a 10-year-old girl was bitten. She was not seriously injured.

The hysteria since the December attack cooled. The park is drawing visitors as though nothing happened, though there are signs at every access point warning against hiking alone.

The head ranger at the lake, Hugh Marx, knew Kenna.

“She was here a lot,” he said. “She was here that morning and she was starting to walk down along the south end while we were hunting ducks and I said, ‘You can’t go down there. I need you to go someplace else.’ I sent her someplace else, and the place she went is where she got (killed).

“We were hunting down there, and I didn’t want her to get sprayed by shot, or scare the birds away or. . . . When I heard that a woman had been killed, I knew exactly who it was. News travels fast in a small community. I had heard almost immediately that they had discovered a pack with blood on it, so I immediately knew that someone had been killed, and I assumed that it was Iris. And it turned out to be a correct assumption.”

Marx, 43, doesn’t accept any responsibility for the attack. But he has instructed his staff members at the lake, a 110-acre reservoir located just across the northeastern border of the park off Highway 79, to refer all questions regarding mountain lions to experts, notably park officials.

Said Judy Raynoha, who works in the lakeside tackle shop, “We get deer, coyotes. . . . and we hear about mountain lions, but the only cats we think about here are our catfish.”

Indeed, things seem to have returned to normal. If there is concern about lions among visitors, it doesn’t show. Rather, they seem to be focused on what might attack from beneath the lake’s shimmering surface.

The catfish will do so this summer, when the sun heats the lake. These days, rainbow trout are doing most of the biting. The lake is full of them.

“This lake, for its size, is probably one of the best fishing lakes for trout in Southern California,” Marx said. “The reason is, we stock so heavily. We stock over 40,000 pounds of trout a year.”

The trout come from both state and private hatcheries. The smaller state-stocked fish are planted from mid-winter through mid-summer.

“Those in mid-winter usually come in as half-pounders and by the time we get fishing pressure (in spring and summer) they’ll average three-quarters of a pound to a pound, due to the natural food in the lake,” Marx said.

The private hatchery fish are much bigger to begin with, seeming to thrive in the nutrient-rich reservoir. The lake record is a 12-pound 6-ounce rainbow trout caught last November. From last Oct. 1 to Dec. 1, the lake produced 180 trout weighing between 4-12 pounds.

“We’ve got lakes around us, but the fishing’s not as good,” said Murietta’s Greg Richmond, 39, while soaking some bait from shore. “We’ve got Corona (Lake, more of a pond off Interstate 15 near Corona), but I feel like I’m cheating when I go there. Besides, you can’t beat the scenery here.”

Indeed, in Lake Cuyamaca anglers have a true mountain lake, sitting pretty at nearly 4,700 feet between broiling Imperial Valley and San Diego. (The lake is 51 miles from San Diego and about 150 from Los Angeles.)

It was formed in 1962 as a water-supply reservoir for East San Diego communities and was drained every summer until 1968, when the Helix Water District, which owns the lake, leased it to the State Wildlife Conservation Board.

The Lake Cuyamaca Recreation and Parks District operates the lake on the board’s behalf and its sole function--using money generated mostly by access fees ($4.50 per day) and boat rentals ($20 per day)--is to provide recreational opportunities.

That includes duck hunting in the winter and a 3 1/2-mile nature trail, but the bulk of the activity centers on the lake itself. Or, more accurately, on the fish that thrive in it.

The cooler weather, even in summer months when temperatures in the nearby Imperial Valley soar into the 100s, enables the staff to stock trout year-round. It is the only San Diego area lake that can make that claim.

Besides trout, the lake boasts sizable populations of catfish, largemouth bass and panfish such as crappies and bluegills, all of which become active in late spring and early summer.

Marx, also a fisheries biologist, teaches fishing clinics every Saturday at 10 a.m. and distributes fliers explaining the best methods and locations for each species of fish.

“Because we are a small lake, we try to cater to families and novice fishermen,” he said. “We have the hand-outs to point them in the right direction. And if the rangers have time, we take the time to try and show you how to set up.”

Heading out from the small marina on a recent trip, Marx guaranteed success.

“Not many people will do that, but I will today,” he said, tying a bright orange Rapala to the end of his line.

He began to troll off an area at the north end of the lake called Lone Pine, named after the lonely tree on the otherwise barren shore.

“This is probably the most consistent spot on the lake for trout,” he said.

Almost immediately, a fish struck the lure and leaped in the distance, its silver body glistening in the sun. A one-pound trout was reeled to the boat. Marx scooped it with his net and pointed to a pinkish tint on its side, explaining that some trout prefer to feed on small crustaceans that thrive in the lake and develop a pinkish flesh that “looks and tastes a lot like salmon.”

Another fish was reeled in, then another. Lone Pine was becoming a busy place in and above the water as boats flocked around Marx, their anglers asking what he was using.

He said many people find Lake Cuyamaca by accident while visiting nearby Julian, a small town known for its apple farms, antique shops and small inns.

Marx recently planted 50 apple trees along the lake’s shores, which, he said, will eventually bear fruit for shoreline anglers.

“I always thought it was kind of neat to be able go out in the woods and find a wild apple tree or wild fruit tree,” he said. “We planted a few cherry trees, but cherries are more for the birds.”

On a short tour, he pointed out waterfront campsites and RV sites. He said the lake gets about 50,000 visitors a year, most from San Diego but many from across the border in Mexicali, Tecate or Tijuana.

The surrounding wilderness is lush. It has been a particularly wet season.

“We get 39 inches of rain every year, but this year we’ve had more than 50,” Marx said. (Cuyamaca is a Native American word meaning “Rain Beyond” or “Mist in the Mountains.”)

The three highest peaks in the Laguna Mountains--Middle, North and Cuyamaca--are easily discernible, Cuyamaca reaching highest at 6,512 feet. They are also very rugged, providing excellent habitat for an abundance of wildlife.

“You name it and we got it,” Marx said. “Bobcats, coyotes, raccoons, opossums, just a tremendous amount of wildlife, and that’s what makes this place so unique. You can come out here almost any evening and see anywhere from two to 50 deer.”

Marx was asked about mountain lions, which feed primarily on the deer.

“Here by the lake people are less apt to run into a lion than they are walking alone in the wilderness,” he said. “I’ve only seen two in my eight years here. A lot of times you think you see one but it might only be its tail disappearing into the brush. You’re not sure. They stay out of sight.”

But not always out of mind.