TROUT WARRIORS

FEEDING VETERANS’ SPIRITS IN THE ENCHANTED CIRCLE

By Briana Olson

“When you see the beauty of the fish, you almost don’t want to eat them,” Louis says softly when I ask if the Trout Warriors eat the fish they catch. The answer is no—the group, which uses fly fishing and fly tying as a form of emotional and physical healing for disabled veterans in northern New Mexico, practices catch and release. “It’s more about the challenge than dinner or trophies,” adds Noah.

I’m momentarily surprised, although I know that the brassy Rio Grande cutthroat, New Mexico’s state fish, is renowned for its colors—and for occupying a small fraction of its historic waters. Through a decades-long restoration project, some 120 miles of stream in northern New Mexico’s Rio Costilla watershed were restored for the trout, and in fall 2022, volunteers released ninety thousand Rio Grande cutthroats into Rio Costilla and Comanche Creek. Perhaps that’s one reason that Doc Thompson, the Trout Warriors’ coordinator and president of the program’s nonprofit parent, Enchanted Circle Trout Unlimited, describes the fish—not only cutthroats but wild browns, rainbows, and brookies—as partners and relatives. Beyond conservation, it also feels like a way to express how the group’s mutual supportiveness extends into the animal world.

“We treat each other like brothers and sisters,” Louis says of the Trout Warriors, and the care and love the group members feel for one another is palpable, even through Zoom. (The group’s twenty-some members represent three counties, and snow conditions had effectively closed the Enchanted Circle to travel the day I’d planned to visit.) Speaking to what he gets from fly fishing that he gets nowhere else, Gulf War veteran Victor talks of the serenity of being on the water but also of what Doc calls “the camaraderie factor,” reflecting on the experience of being part of a like-minded group in the military.

“I like the outdoors,” says Ed, who was born and raised in the Española Valley and served in Vietnam. “Fly fishing has helped with my PTSD.” His words, simple and direct, belie the complex, difficult, deeply personal, and often lifelong struggles encompassed in that acronym.

“Fly fishing is almost like a zen experience. Trout are very smart fish—you have to be in the moment,” Noah says. With the ocean fish he cast for during his thirty years in Florida, he explains, you knew right away when you had one. In contrast, he describes trout as selective and wily. You get the feeling they’re inspecting the fly, considering it, he says, and then sometimes declining and moving on. “When we’re fishing, we’re in their world.”

Between May and October, the Trout Warriors meet monthly to fly fish, usually with the support of skilled volunteers. Funded entirely by donations, they also, Doc says, strive to go on a fly fishing healing retreat every year—an experience that allows them to deepen their connections both to the trout’s world and to one another. Fly fishing has been romanticized as a solitary endeavor, but one after another, the members of this group express the joy of watching other people fish—not only the thrill of observing a good catch but the joy of watching the expressions on one another’s faces. Off season, they get together once or twice a month, sometimes in person and sometimes via Zoom, for fly tying sessions.

I first learned of the Trout Warriors from Comanche Creek Brewery, whose original location sat within twenty feet of the eponymous creek. As it turns out, the Trout Warriors owe their name, in part, to a variety of hops. A few years ago, Doc approached Comanche Creek Brewery owner and head brewer Kody Mutz with the idea of a fundraiser beer. At the time, Kody was working on a new beer, a Helles lager made with warrior hops—now known as Trout Warrior Lager. Originally, I’d aimed to meet some members of the group at the brewery, but blizzard conditions and other logistics dictated that we meet virtually.

When, admitting my ignorance about fly fishing, I ask what goes into fly tying, Kelly compares the art of fly tying to a grandmother’s cooking. She runs through all the layers, from learning about entomology—“all the phases of the bug, learning how to tie the bug in the different phases of its life”—to learning about what fish eat in the different rivers and creeks they visit. Echoing what others have shared about developing mindfulness, she says, “Every time I come back to the table, I’m a beginner again.”

Earlier, Doc told me that the physical nature of fly fishing is good for reconnecting motor skills, but the members of the group have as much to say about the satisfaction of workmanship. Ed shares the excitement he felt the first time he caught a fish with a fly he tied himself—a zebra midge, he thinks. Victor talks about attending a workshop in rod building and the fifty-plus hours he spent building his rod, saying, “I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands.” The patience he and others have gained seems to breathe in the space they give one another on our call, listening as carefully as they speak. Reflecting on his own joy in working with glass and wood, Louis tells me about the mosaics he’s designing for the footstools and benches he’s building—some for his grandkids, some for a silent auction that will benefit the Trout Warriors.

One such auction is held in conjunction with an annual fundraiser at Comanche Creek Brewery. Opened in 2010 after Kody and his wife, Tasha Mutz, relocated from Denver to old family land in Eagle Nest, the brewery moved to its stunning location on NM 38 in 2019. In addition to brewing the Trout Warrior Lager twice a year and hosting fundraisers for the Trout Warriors, the brewery, which leans toward German styles like Altbier and Kölsch, has become a solid gathering place in the community. When I finally made it up in late January, a local father-son duo played sweet songs while others added plates to a table set up for a community potluck. The meadow beyond the patio was still snow covered, and as dusk approached, light danced in through abundant windows while community vibes (perhaps along with the effects of a glass of rich, silky porter) brought radiance into the space.

Not every regular is a local, yet the brewery offers a space for those fluent in remoteness, the curves of Palo Flechado Pass, and the expanse of the Moreno Valley, whether it’s the season for fly fishing or ice fishing. In that sense, it’s kin to as well as supporter of the Trout Warriors. While the group’s members include veterans of the post-9/11 Afghanistan and Iraq era alongside those like Noah, whose military service stretched from the Cuban missile crisis to the Gulf War, Doc says they’ve faced similar hurdles and challenges, and he sees the group making a difference in members’ lives. 

“It’s important to me as a veteran to get support from other veterans,” Kelly shares near the end of our Zoom gathering. “We tend to minimize the contributions of people who weren’t in combat,” she says. “Being in the military is its own kind of journey. Being in this group helps me understand how much healing I’ve done and how much is left to do.”

Given the Trout Warriors’ praise and gratitude for his work, I can’t conclude the interview without asking Doc what he’s gained from them. He’s quick to reiterate that while family members from past generations served, he did not. Then he says, “For anybody, whatever you’re dealing with, it’s one foot in front of the other. And you’re not necessarily alone in what you’re going through.”

Contact Doc Thompson with interest or questions, at doct@flyfishnewmexico.com.