IT’S MORNING at Kooyooe Pa’a Panunadu, or Pyramid Lake, in Nevada, and I’m fly fishing for the biggest cutthroat trout in the world. It’s my first time at the lake, and I’m here with Autumn Harry, the first Paiute woman fly-fishing guide in its history.
The pressure is on. The anglers down the beach just doubled up. I’ve yet to get bit, and my window of opportunity is closing quickly. On the other side of the lake, the sun is beginning to crest a series of rugged high-desert mountains. According to Harry, direct sunlight kills the fishing. On a clear day like today, most fish are caught at dawn and dusk, and we’re not planning to fish this evening.
I lift the two-handed switch-rod handle up by my head and launch my floating line forward. I’m still learning how to cast this rod and the motion is awkward, but I manage to get my indicator rig out to where the rocky shoreline drops off into deep turquoise, where trout are known to cruise.
“I’ve got a good feeling,” says Harry from a tufa rock next to me. “It’s going to happen soon. I just know it.”
I strip in the slack, point my rod at the cork, twitch it once, and watch it bob in the chop. Any second, a 20-pound Lahontan cutthroat trout could make it drop.
AN ANCIENT REMNANT
I’d met Harry at the lake early that morning. After a short drive down a rough dirt road, I found her rigging up at her old white Chevy Silverado. She’s nearly 6 feet tall and is wearing a silver nose ring, a beanie, a puffy jacket, and Patagonia waders.
We could still see the stars, and the headlamps of anglers stretched in a line along the shore’s dark outcroppings. It’s mid-March, prime time for the