CATCH HIS DRIFT

The lonely old man on the bank of the river, fishing pole in hand, welcomed the sight of other fishermen drifting by in a boat. He had someone to heckle--and he was darn good at it.

“You guys catch any of them big Alpers rainbows?” he shouted from his perch.

“We put a few on the hook,” one of them answered, “but we let ‘em all go.”

“Hell, they ain’t no good on the hook!” the old man shot back, grinning slyly, his neck craning so he could follow the boat as it went past. “You got to get them on the stringer! I got two good-sized rainbows on mine that’re gonna be great for dinner--along with my brown!”

This rankled Tom Loe, the guide on the boat who releases everything he catches, especially the wild brown trout in the river. Loe didn’t give the old man the satisfaction of a response, choosing instead to mutter beneath his breath, “Yeah, well I hope you choke on the bones, you old . . . .”

And on down the river went Loe and his client, a Los Angeles motion picture executive named Paul Young, Loe manning the oars and Young casting downstream, amused by a scene he said reminded him of the movie, “Deliverance.”

“All in all, this has been pretty cool,” he said as the trip drew to an end, with about 15 trout to his credit.

And it was getting cooler. The sun had slipped behind the towering slopes of the Eastern Sierra, casting a shadow over the vast Owens Valley and its namesake river, sending the fishermen scurrying for cover and leaving them big Alpers rainbows and wild little browns at peace for the night.

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Loe, owner of Sierra Drifters guide service, has tapped into something special on the Lower Owens. A former commercial fisherman who hunted swordfish for 20 years in the North Atlantic, he now has as his hunting grounds a 12-mile stretch of meandering river that has benefited nicely from an aggressive new stocking program intended to boost local business during the winter.

Bishop can use the help. A roadside community of about 3,600, its restaurants, shops and motels do well during the spring and summer months, thanks largely to campers and fishermen who flock to the Eastern Sierra during the general trout season, which runs from the end of April through October.

But during the winter, the town is basically a rest and refueling stop for travelers on U.S. 395, mostly skiers headed to and from Mammoth Lakes. The good motels are at about 50% occupancy. People often hold two or three part-time jobs, if they can find them, to make ends meet.

“But they live here in Bishop and wouldn’t trade it for the world,” says Dave Patterson, executive director of the Bishop Area Chamber of Commerce and Visitors Bureau.

Only two waters are open for fishing year-round: Pleasant Valley Reservoir and all of the Owens River below Crowley Lake above Pleasant Valley Reservoir. A community-sponsored program called Adopt-A-Creek has been putting 100 pounds of trophy-sized Alpers Ranch-raised rainbow trout into both bodies of water weekly for two years, but the angling public has been slow to bite.

This year, Inyo County provided substantial assistance with a grant the town is using to purchase Alpers rainbows, hoping to further try to lure trout fishermen from the freeway-side ponds in Southern California.

“Instead of using it for promotions, we all said that if you put the fins in the river, people will come,” Loe says.

Tim Alpers has been planting about 500 pounds of his famous fish in the reservoir and river every week since early January, and people apparently are responding. Motel owners report only a slight increase, but Loe’s winter business is up 150% compared to last year. Other guides also have been busier.

“The fact that in January we were getting 80-fish days might have something to do with that,” Loe says, giving credit to the unseasonably mild weather back then. “We’ve had 60-fish days and 40-fish days, but our average is about 30.”

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Loe, 41, who lives with his wife, Michele, along McGee Creek overlooking Crowley Lake, is the only guide who uses a boat on the Lower Owens and thus is the only one who has access to all 12 miles between Five Bridges Road above town and Collins Road below it.

Most of this stretch is thickly lined with willows, cottonwoods and wild rose, and bank access is limited to a few dirt roads and footpaths.

“To tell you the truth, I have no clue why other [guides] aren’t doing this,” Loe says with a smile. “But I’m not complaining.”

He uses a 16-foot aluminum flat-bottom drift boat, powered by oars. His customers, usually two to a boat, have bucket seats but stand to cast downstream and use a raised inner bow as a casting tray for stripping line. Mostly, they cast sink-tip lines and pull streamer-pattern flies Loe ties to imitate the sculpin that inhabit the river.

Loe puts his clients in position using an anchor attached to a pulley and points out the “sweet spots,” and if they listen and execute, they usually get plenty of action, because few know the river as well as Loe.

He gained much of his fishing expertise longlining for swordfish, but he spent his off-seasons in this region and has drift-fished the Lower Owens for 13 years.

His best day was 147 fish caught and released, and many more hooked. “That was between me and my brother-in-law,” he says. “We figured we had over 300 [hookups] that day. They were mostly browns; the largest was only about four pounds.”

Loe finally retired from his job as a commercial fisherman and in December 1998 started Sierra Drifters, guiding trips throughout the region but specializing in drift-fishing the river.

Last year, the outdoor press helped out with features on his unique operation. This year, he hasn’t needed much help.

In January, he posted this report on his Web site (https://www.sierradrifters.com): “This has been a memorable season. More big fish (4 lbs.+) have been caught than at any time I have ever experienced. The largest so far . . . a 9-pound, 26-inch rainbow nicknamed Troutzilla, caught by Jimmy Toy of Westlake Village. [It] was given a run for its money by Chuck Hunt of Santa Barbara. Chuck’s fish, a ‘buck’ hook-jawed rainbow, weighed 7 pounds and measured 22 inches.

” . . . Chuck had another 20-inch, 4-pound hen he landed that day and added 33 more browns and ‘bows to start the New Year.”

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It was 9 a.m. when Loe and Young put in at a remote stretch of river above town, before a gathering of cows that actually seemed to be interested in what was going on. The hour suited Young, who had arrived late the night before.

“There’s no reason to start any earlier,” Loe explained, “because the fish don’t start biting till after 9.”

Young recently had returned from Argentina, where he spent weeks battling three- to seven-pound trout in a blue-ribbon fishery running through a ranch owned by a friend. That trip did wonders for Young’s casting ability and before long he had his hook into a 15-inch rainbow . . . then a much smaller brown . . . then another rainbow . . .

It wasn’t Argentina, Young agreed, but nor was it L.A. A recent series of storms had plopped a glistening blanket of snow on the Sierra to the west and the White Mountains to the east. The valley was golden and seemingly deserted, the weather, at 4,000 feet, ideal for casting one’s cares away.

Around each bend seemed to be something new . . . a four-pound Alpers trout clearing the water and shaking the hook . . . a pair of ducks taking flight . . . a beaver dam breaking loose by the rising river . . .

Finally, as the boat drifted closer to town, there was the lonely old man who wanted the world to know he was going to be enjoying some wild brown trout along with his Alpers rainbows.

Sierra Drifters can be reached at (760) 935-4250.

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FISH REPORT, PAGE 14