Cold Creek remains one of my fondest places in spite of it becoming overrun with private development and RV campers. Maybe it’s the memory of the delight when I first discovered the place back in the late 1970s. There were no cabins then as the land was owned by the Bureau of Land Management. The creek gushed mysteriously from the cave at the end of the arroyo, and the little jeweled trout seemed to thrive in the creek despite its diminutive stature. I became so enthralled with the area that my college grade point average dropped a whole tenth of a point during my final semester because I frequently ditched the early evening classes so I could explore around Cold Creek in the early springtime. As I mentioned in previous writings, I caught my first trout on a fly in Cold Creek when I was attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, forever capturing my sensibilities and birthing the fly fishing passion that still haunts me today (see November Cold Creek 2006 blog).
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