Personally, the big issue is that there is smoke on the horizon. When I was a kid, I'd go fly fishing with my boss up in these glacial lakes, on public land, but we were most definitely trespassing thru private land to get there. Flagging tape and spray-painted dots on rocks defined the trail for those areas where we absolutely depended on GPS. The lakes were stocked with what we thought were Yellowstone cutthroats, but, a former pond in a tiny stream held brookies, cuttbows. Here, in the Arkansas River drainage, and depending on the source, they should have held either Yellowfin or Greenback cutthroats, before people did stocking. Pushing our luck, my fishing buddy even tried to stash his float tube up there so he wouldn't have to hike it in every weekend; it dissappeared immediately. One time we returned from the mountain to find our ride vandalized, flat tire, dead rat under the windshield wiper, something written in mud on the window, plus we were gettin rained on. Nervous and probably being watched, we quickly got the spare installed. Persistent and slow to learn, the next time we got permission from a local to park in his driveway, and we greeted him with a dozen fresh doughnuts for the spot, still crossing across private land, but, always respectfully kept the cattle gates closed behind us. Strange place, totally backwoods, and way creepier than my former Breaking Bad-set-neighborhood. From our perspective, we just saw residents hanging-out, waiting for fast-food and nature to take over, dogs barking always echoed in the overgrown canyon, cairion being heavily worked-on from the asphalt road by some scavenging bird. In '22 the area got roasted in a fire scar that claimed six-tenths-of-a-degree latitude; former residents lost all, and relief checks are still stalled. Closer to my residence, a 2003 fire claimed a trout-trail that has yet to be cleared, same for a fire in '11 and an event in '22 - debris falls are impossible to hike thru for any significant distance, and the parking is still closed. I've lied to the hikers about my activity when they saw my rod poking out of my backpack; now, I come clean, because I really don't want to try to fool smart people, and go totally clandestine, meaning all-out Tenkara. Btw, I was actually introduced to the reel-less method by a fellow Mudder on an informal trail-run, long before I saw it on the Tube. On a side-note, in '22, Colorado rediscovered a 'San Juan' subspecies of cutts. Oops, spilling the 411 on specific holes, but the opportunity might get squashed by a high-risk old-growth forestry project. I actually hate the way we practice forestry; not far, a community lost 1,400 structures during a June fire, most afternoons flooding or flood-watches ensues.