Day 25: Lost. Really, Scarily Lost in the New Mexico High Desert

It was a beautiful morning when I got up and about in the Gwynn Tank Campground. There was a parking lot for the trailhead to the Lake / Pond known as Gwynn Tank. I filled my backpack up with waders, boots, and fishing gear as I prepared for the trek to the lake. Google maps showed that I had a ways to go.

I panicked as I started up the hill to the lake. After 20 steps and an incline of 15 feet, I was at the lake. Gwynn Tank has been planted with Gila Trout and they have reproduced quite well. Visibility in the lake was 6 inches. I probed the water with an intermediate line stripping back the famous Sheep Creek Special, followed by a Louise Special (Black mohair leech with lots of red and blue sparkle material). At 10 AM I saw no activity from fish, but a few bugs were on the water. Miniscule fish, less than 1 inch in length, were coming out of the water to eat the bugs. The fish population is growing. I’m sure that the evening would be a lake full of active fish. I’ve seen this happen before in high mountain lakes. A seemingly sterile pond becomes alive with fish at dusk.

I didn’t want to wait 8 hours for dusk. For me, this pond was a bust. Time to head out, back to a Wifi area and research creeks in the area that I can find and fish. Remember, Google Maps isn’t working and my OsmAnd+ on my Kindle Fire shows hundreds of Forest Roads but no clear destinations. Also, Forest Roads can be fantastic, rutty, broken, and / or 4 wheel drive. Taking them is a crap shoot (readers will remember the broken road on the way to The Mary’s River).

I had a half a tank of gas, easily enough to get 50+ miles out of the wilderness, but which way? I did my best to figure out a way out, but I got lost, really lost. I kept back tracking with no idea where a town may be as my Kindle map showed places as little circles. Towns that I knew of like Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, were way too far away on dirt roads.

I headed towards Willow Creek as the name was familiar to me. It turned out that Willow Creek is a water that has been enhanced with Gila Trout. I found a fishing spot while lost, and panicked.

I parked and got set up to fish this tiny creek. I found that my 4-weight Redington rod had a broken tip. This is not good as I sent a rod into Redington two years ago and haven’t received a replacement. My repair account incident number has since been deleted, yet no rod has been returned.

There was a small pool about 50 feet upriver from a road crossing. I could see half a dozen fish in the pool, but unfortunately, they could see / sense me. As soon as I could see them, the all lazily swam to the end of the pool and hid under a submerged bramble of sticks. I couldn’t get on my knees and crawl / scoot as the dry river bed was 100% rocks. AARRGGHH1.

It was very frustrating trying to flip a fly into water because there were willows above the creek, behind me, and lots of crappy little sunflower-type weeds along the gravel. My fly caught many, many bushes before getting close to the water. Letting the water rest and coming back five times lead to no success. Beautiful fish just lazily hiding under branches when I show up.

I did get a couple of rises downstream from an even smaller riffle/pool. Darn little 3-incher loved my flies, just couldn’t get caught.

So, heading upstream to hopefully find more pools, I found something I’ve heard of, but have never seen.

A beaver dam creating a giant, beautiful pool. No easy paths around so I left to find civilization again.

Not so lucky was I. My plan was to drive a road, thirty miles from the Willow Creek Campground, to a town / area called Goodwin, I think. The road started out fine but after two miles became quite rough. Fortunately a truck was coming down the road towards me and I flagged them down, asking if the road went all the way through. The driver told me “yes, but it is really rough”. I told him I was lost and just wanted to get out. I was directed to retrace my route back to a road called Bursum and follow the signs to a place called Reserve. Turns out Reserve is a town and not just a place on a map. Perhaps I would not run out of gas and have to emergency GPS call out for assistance. Away I went……it was confusing but after 2+ hours I made it back to civilization.

I cannot express in words my frustration, worry, and panic as I was lost, really lost, and fearing the worst. Thankfully some fellow travelers helped me get out. It was not a fun time, but now it is.

Tight Lines!