You could get paranoid like me and go back and edit out the river name
Even all the way up here with all the pressure on the rivers I won't tell guys where I go. The young fellas at the Mountain View Fly Shop think I'm funny but I believe they are coming round to see why I'm that way.
I once had a creek that had been forgotten by society at large. Even the old men from out in the Valley said all it had were 'little bitty brookies'. The facts were different. Back in the late 1800's there had been a farm up in the pass owned by a Remington, yes one of those Remington's. Well old Mr. Remington had a small dam to supply water to his livestock and he also got himself some Vom Burr brown trout fry via the railroad. he raised trout in his little dam and of course some got away during high waters. Then during the Great Depression there became 'The Municipal Water Authority' and the authority took over a lot of land either by buying it or by imminent domain, I'm not sure of all the details because the history was told to me by a man who was in his 80's in the 1970's.
I fished that creek and the 'Main Creek' that it flowed into for the years between 1968 & 1973. In 73' I got some giant brown trout. I stopped to show them to my Grandmother who later told all my uncles and cousins. Of course those people had friends.................... I still have they trophy I was awarded for catching the biggest brown trout of 1973 and I kept fishing my 'secret spot' until the mid 80's. Sadly by 1975 the area was full of the signs of fishermen. Empty bait containers, Eagle Claw Hook packs & discarded bottles of Mike's Oil Pac Salmon Eggs, and of course Power Bait bottles littered the ground as you walked the stream. By the 80's there was a trail and you could meet people from the city and it's suburbs 30 miles away talking out loud about the place when you went to a sporting goods store, it was over.
The mountains are still there, the streams still flow. I'm 5000 miles away and in the years since those days on Remington's Creek I've fished from remote Newfoundland to my home here in Alaska. I've fished the Rock Mountain rivers and creeks a lot for a guy who didn't live there and one thing stands out in my mind when I look back over the past 39 years since I caught those big fish. I have never fished in a better place for either numbers or size of wild trout and considering where I fish every season now, that's saying something. The events of my days on the creeks of The Valley remain bright as though they were last season but the fish are gone forever.
That my friend is why I don't tell where I fish ever again. It's true that I'll mention the Kenai River sometimes but if you ever saw the number of boats and people fishing it you would know that the fate of that fishery doesn't rest on whether or not the name slipping from my lips happens or not.
Silence is golden Paul,