By Paul Lebowitz

EASTERN SIERRAS – Roadside lakes perfect for scratching that ever present kayak fishing itch are in plentiful supply in the Eastern Sierras. Oh sure, Crowley’s a bit tougher than in the past, with quagga mussel concerns limiting lake access to the launch ramp. That’s a heck of crawl from Green Banks or even McGee Bay. Otherwise it’s all good: stunning Convict, the easy limits of the Mammoth Lakes basin, the lovely June loop, and more. Just stop the truck, drag the ‘yak a few easy feet to the water’s edge, and get your trout on.

I contemplated how much easier those options would have been as I trudged up the trace of a steep and rutted old fire road, huffing and puffing with a ‘lightweight’ (everything’s relative) Malibu Mini-X kayak in tow on a kayak cart. With me on this mile-long uphill jaunt to little McCleod Lake were a couple of local mountain men. They were breathing hard too, even reserve firefighter and Mammoth Kayaks founder Rob Witherill, the provider of our rides.

“It’s a nice wake-up for a flat-lander, eh?” a cheery Witherill said of our day-break hike.

Yeah Rob, I thought to myself, it’s not the steps, it’s the ‘ups’ – some 9,500 ft, where a deep breath of air is about as satisfying as a stalk of celery to a starving man. A newly arrived low-lander can suck it down all day and never feel sated.  

All that was forgotten the moment we reached the lake, where the crystalline waters oh so appropriately reflected a mirror image of Crystal Crag, a granite cliff soaring over the pine-rimmed oval. In minutes we’d launched the ‘yaks onto this occasional province of the float-tuber, rarely if ever kayaked.

Robert Anderson cast a fly and bubble combination – McCleod is barbless, artificial water, catch and release only – and soon had a hit. It wasn’t until he started trolling a spoon that the first pretty little cutthroat stuck.

In the meantime, Witherill and I worked over a drop-off out of reach of shore, getting another feisty fish every fifteen minutes or so. The lake was teeming with colorful trout. We’d watch them cruise calmly by in the still, clear water, right beneath our silent boats. “Not a bad way to spend a morning,” said Witherill as he reeled in another. Nearby, a luckless shore-bound fly angler looked on as a better cutty spun Anderson’s compact kayak in circles.

After a couple of sun-splashed hours we headed back down the trail. We walked with the kayaks in front of us, this time the boats pulling us instead of the other way around.  In the easy going, Anderson sketched out a plan to hike a ‘yak up to Skeleton or even Duck Lake. “My pack straps will fit right through the scuppers,” he mused.

The pair traded notes on a few more lakes where the kayak would come in handy, all a manageable mile or three from a road-head, some in wilderness (no wheels allowed) but not all.

“So you feel the kayaks were worthwhile?” I asked Witherill, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah! The guys on shore didn’t catch a thing the entire time we were there,” Witherill said. Anderson, who’d gotten every one of his fish while trolling, nodded in agreement. I couldn’t help smiling. The humble little boats are at their best when fishing the road less traveled. It’s no different when that road climbs to airplane altitudes, where the air is thin gruel, not even if it’s uphill both ways.   

AN UNUSUAL SPOT TO SEE A FISHING KAYAK – Little McLeod, a lake in the upper stretches of the Mammoth basin, gets few if any kayaks. It’s a mile from the nearest road, accessible only via a steep trail or overgrown former fire road. The views – and the fishing for hungry cutthroats – make the tough portage well worth the effort.

UP, UP, UP – Robert Anderson puts one foot in front of the other as he tows a Malibu Mini-X kayak up to McLeod Lake. Compact, light-weight kayaks such as these are excellent choices where getting to the fishing hole requires a long, challenging walk.

A COLORFUL REWARD – A McLeod cutthroat, ample compensation for a high-country kayak fishing trek.

The McCleod Lake trailhead departs from the west end of Horseshoe Lake, high in the Mammoth Lakes loop. If you go, bring a durable kayak cart and cinch your boat down tightly. Remember, barbless artificials only, C&R.  Rob Witherill’s Mammoth Kayaks is the Eastern Sierra’s first kayak fishing outfitter and rental service.