I have seen Blue Mesa Reservoir in Gunnison, Colorado, at full capacity for years, until now.
Blue Mesa is at the mercy of Lake Powell, the grand Utah reservoir, which is at the mercy of Lake Mead, all to fill the water glasses of Las Vegas. Blue Mesa is at it lowest pool since the dam was completed. Everyone wants to blame climate change for what is happening, but let’s be frank, water usage in the desert is stupid. When reports are read that include true stupidity – Lake Powell loses a whole reservoir a decade to evaporation – and in 30 years, 16 years have had higher outflow than inflow. It sounds more like mismanagement than nature.
They are draining Colorado dry.
In 2021, when it dropped to 45% capacity, I was worried it would never come back. Trees thrust through the surface of Lake Fork arm, creating a boater and angler nightmare. 2023 saw a return to full capacity and I felt the crisis was over.
The winter of 2025-2026 had no snow. The first thing I saw when I began my journey to Blue Mesa in August 2026 was dead grass and smoke in the distance from one of the many wildfires striking Colorado. The two marinas on Blue Mesa were closed, all boats were removed by July 1st, and only rafts and personal water crafts were allowed. Highway 50 follows the Gunnison River from its namesake town, curving gently into the wide vista of Iola Basin at the Lake City Bridge.
Iola Basin was gone, only the river in its place.
A wide dry vista, with cars driving to the banks of the river where we usually trolled in 60 to 80 feet of water, trying to stay above its channel. The river was not where we thought it would be. The Lake City Bridge stood high above the lazy river. In years past, we felt claustrophobic passing under the bridge, ducking our heads, as the lake continued upstream. There was no lake as far as I could see. Iola has reappeared, like rock cairns marking a cemetery in the new grasslands of the basin.
The Gunnison River ran free past the town of Iola, whose remains appear as bleached white markers in a sandy plain, on its way to create the Black Canyon. In 1956, three years before I was born, congress passed the Colorado Storage Project Act creating Blue Mesa, Morrow Point and Crystal Dams, changing the landscape of the region. Curecanti National Recreation Area debuted in 1965 to mange the three reservoirs.
Iola, Colorado, was known for its fly fishing, hunting and guest ranches. Author Shelly Read, a fifth-generation Coloradan, grew up visiting the Gunnison Valley, penned a fictional story of loss, displacement, home and family through the eyes of Victoria, a young woman in Iola. “Go as a River” has been published in 34 countries and translated into 30 languages. What drained Iola basin?
Three books and visits to the west have forever changed my mind on dams and reservoirs and how we have tried to change landscape never meant for water.
“Glen Canyon Dammed” and “Glen Canyon: Before Lake Powell” preceded my first trip to Utah’s majestic, massive landscape and what was lost and abused by the so called Bureau of Reclamation. “Cadillac Desert” opened my eyes to what unbridled, unplanned development can do to our water resources. And then, I began visiting the high country to fish for Salmon on Blue Mesa Reservoir and Morrow Point Reservoir outside Gunnison, CO.
“Glen Canyon Dammed” told the history of Lake Powell, a dam that never should have been built, and a canyon that John Wesley Powell called “grander than the Grand Canyon.” In the 1950s, the Sierra Club led by David Brower agreed not to oppose the Glen Canyon Dam to save Echo Park inside Dinosaur National Monument, stopping the destruction of Federally protected land, which Glen Canyon was not. Brower, who served on the Sierra Club board until his death in 2000, regretted the decision and succeeded in convincing the national Sierra Club board to publicly support efforts to drain Lake Powell in 1996. Until that happens, Blue Mesa is a spigot for Lake Powell. Michelle Garrison, water resources specialist for the Colorado Water Conservation Board, said, “Blue Mesa tends to be pretty dry when Lake Powell is dry.” Lake Powell is at 21.3% capacity, a record low and nearing dead pool status, with Blue Mesa at 21%, also a record low.
The saving grace for Morrow Point and Crystal Dams are power generation, which require full pools. Morrow Point, the dam marking the beginning of the Black Canyon, has a 173 MW hydro power plant (117th largest nationwide) which is vital for the western electrical grid. It’s smaller sister, Crystal, located 6 miles downstream within the canyon, generates local power and its water is primarily used for irrigation of in the Crystal Valley of Colorado, and played a vital role in the wildfire battles, serving as a source for aerial drops.
Morning broke overcast and chilly, with the hike down Pine Creek Trail always foreboding the journey home after a full day of fishing. Steep steps are gracefully sectioned with sitting platforms affording stunning views of the river and dam within the beginning of the Black Canyon. The river is tame and almost placid with Blue Mesa at its back.
A single dock holds three boats, two pontoon and a runabout stationed by the Park Service. Kyle Jones, our fishing guide, has carried a backpack full of supplies down the 1.2 mile hike, it is definitely a pack in, pack out location. As the current takes you down stream, the grandeur of the Black Canyon is immediately apparent. These upper reaches are known for being some of the steepest and oldest exposed rocks in North America, If God used building blocks, this is where he played. Walls of blocks stacked hundreds high form monuments around you. One side of the river is completely different, trees and rocks coexist in a landscape that looks like a bear’s habitat, and it is as our sightings attest.
Kyle regaled us with tales of the Hermit of Black Canyon and how his house was spotted appearing from the water during the early summer when Morrow Point was at its lowest.
The hermit, as told in an August 11, 1944, newspaper story by the Union Star of Brookneal, Virginia, with a Gunnison dateline, was Robert Nelson, 87-year-old, coaxed from the canyon by the local sheriff after his cabin was destroyed by fire. The swedish native spent 48 years in Colorado’s Black Canyon, long before the Gunnison River was dammed to create Morrow Point Reservoir. The story is preserved with Hermit’s Rest Trail, a steep climb down to Kokanee Bay, but no mention of Robert Nelson in any of the National Park Services descriptions. Google AI gave me a totally different person. The newspaper article from Virginia is the only reference I could find.
All morning the wind came into the canyon from the east, cold and steady. The fish were biting on the high line. Kyle said the wind will stop at noon, we’ll have an hour of great fishing, then the wind will come from the west, and everything will change. It happened like clockwork, just as predicted. As we cruised back up river, we reminisced about our past years on Morrow. It was always consistent, it was always spectacular. We had six salmon, a dozen Rainbows, and we had sent several back to grow larger. With that kind of reward, the more than 200 stairs to the top of Pine Trail didn’t sound so bad. Still had to stop at every landing, but it was worth it to emblazon that vista into my memory, a place I will always return to.
With the closure of the marinas on Blue Mesa on July 1, 2026, due to low water and not a single boat launch open, our next option for lake fishing was Taylor Park Reservoir, located 30 miles north of Gunnison, with incredible views of the Rocky’s Collegiate Range. Finished in 1937 by the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation as part of the Uncompahgre Project, its purpose was irrigation and storing the water of the Taylor River, a Gunnison River tributary. In 2024, power generation was added by the Gunnison County Electric Association, a benefit to local residents. Situated at an elevation of 9,321 feet, it is the highest lake that I have ever fished.
After Morrow Point and Blue Mesa, it is the poor third cousin. I am not a fan of Lake Trout, which are its biggest calling. They claim the Brown Trout fishing is phenomenal, but we didn’t see that. And it is touted for its Pike fishing, but again we didn’t see that either. And at $750 for a guided trip on a pontoon boat with no canopy, not even worth the price. For that same price, Morrow Point is the place to fish around Gunnison.
That night, as we ate fresh Salmon and Trout off the grill, we prepared for our International Dark Sky park experience at Elk Creek Campground in Curecanti National Recreation Area, on the shore of Blue Mesa. In years past, we launched from or rented from the marina at the site, but driving down the boat ramp, the concrete ended a long way before water appeared, and there were no docks. Neither were there any boats in the campground, an observation shared by many of the campers walking by. So instead of fishermen, we found star enthusiasts. Park rangers led a program In the campground’s amphitheater complete with a powerful telescope giving a view of Mizar and Alcor, dual stars marking the end of the Big Dipper’s handle.
Away from the amphitheater, prone in a gravity chair, the stars filled the sky. Every movement was visible – planes, satellites, the Perseids meteor shower – sauntered and flashed through the immense vista. And then the Milky Way. With a cloudless sky, the haze rising from the landscape was other worldly, the heavens were reminiscent of a Van Gogh painting.
As the stars-cape rotated around our campsite, I was on a different planet from my East Coast existence. Try looking at the stars in New England. It sucks. I can’t wait to go back. I’m just praying for rain.
