The Worst Snowpack on Record Is Reshaping Everything Anglers Know About Colorado Trout Season
There's a moment every spring when the rivers in Colorado start to wake up. The ice pulls back from the banks, the bugs begin to hatch, and the trout that spent the winter sluggish in deep pools start moving again. That moment came early this year — weeks early — and it's the clearest sign yet that 2026 is going to be unlike any fishing season most anglers in the West have ever experienced.
The numbers are stark. Colorado is sitting on the lowest snowpack levels recorded since the state started tracking the data back in 1987. A record-breaking heat wave in March pushed temperatures high enough to start melting mountain snow more than a month ahead of schedule. The rivers responded accordingly. What usually happens in late April or May is happening right now, and if that shift isn't on your radar, you're already behind.
Colorado state climatologist Ross Schumacher didn't mince words when the data came in this month. "There's no sugar-coating the data right now," he wrote. "It's now safe to conclude that this has been the worst year for Colorado snowpack in recorded history."
That's not a statement anyone in the fishing community wanted to read. But for anglers willing to adjust, there's still a season to be had — and in some spots, the fishing right now is as good as it gets.
The Water Crisis Underneath the Fishing Story
Before getting into casting angles and hatch charts, it's worth understanding what's actually happening with the water supply, because the two things are connected in ways that will affect every fishing decision made this summer.
The Colorado River Basin is currently operating at roughly 36 percent storage capacity, according to the Bureau of Reclamation. That figure lands with particular weight when you consider that the Colorado River system was already the most contested, most overallocated waterway in the entire country before any of this year's drought conditions set in. Dry years have been the norm for about 26 years running, and the river was never carrying as much water as the seven states drawing from it were counting on — a problem that dates back to the original Colorado River Compact of 1922. Negotiations over how to share the dwindling supply recently collapsed.
Lake Powell, which sits downstream of where the Colorado and Green Rivers meet, is only 23 percent full. If levels drop far enough to hit what water managers call "dead pool," the hydroelectric turbines at Glen Canyon Dam stop turning, and water deliveries downstream get thrown into chaos. To prevent that from happening, federal managers are releasing large volumes of water from Flaming Gorge Reservoir up in Utah and Wyoming — a move that is expected to drop Flaming Gorge's water level by around 35 feet over the next year.
"Anglers should expect reduced flows," Anna Perea, a public affairs specialist with the Bureau of Reclamation, told Outdoor Life. "Low flows may mean that streams will be warmer and fish may be stressed. Rafting and floating opportunities may be limited."
Closer to home, anglers on the Front Range took another hit this week when water managers announced plans to drain and close Antero Reservoir. Antero is one of the best stillwater trout fisheries in the South Platte watershed, but it's being sacrificed to prop up Cheesman Reservoir, which supplies drinking water to more than a million people in the Denver metro area. Colorado Parks and Wildlife has responded with an emergency fish salvage, lifting bag limits through May 13. Local guides are already speculating that CPW will try to relocate as many of the reservoir's trophy trout as possible before the water is gone. This kind of painful tradeoff isn't new — Antero was drained before in 2002, the last time conditions came anywhere close to what the state is seeing now — but it stings every time.
The suffering is also not limited to Colorado. The effects of a historically weak winter are being felt from the deserts of New Mexico all the way to the Washington coast. The only parts of the West that are sitting close to normal are some areas in the northern Rockies — parts of Idaho, Montana, and northwestern Wyoming — where snowpack hasn't hit record lows. Everywhere else, water managers, farmers, and irrigators are bracing for a hard summer.
A Fishing Calendar That No Longer Applies
For most Colorado trout anglers, the season follows a reliable rhythm. April and early May bring decent fishing before runoff muddies the rivers. June or July brings the post-runoff sweet spot when flows settle back into shape. By mid-August, the lower-elevation rivers start warming up, and the serious angler heads to the high country for alpine lakes and small feeder creeks.
Forget all of that this year.
Cole Tretter runs Minturn Anglers out of Minturn, Colorado, where his shop sits along the upper Colorado River and its tributaries. He's been fielding calls from anglers trying to plan summer trips and his answer is the same every time.
"People are calling the shop and asking when's the best time to fish, and I'm like, 'Right now,'" Tretter said.
His guides are already operating on a shifted schedule, encouraging clients to book earlier in the summer than they normally would. The typical fishing calendar has slid forward by somewhere between four and six weeks across much of northern Colorado. Ice melted faster, bugs are hatching sooner, and in some stretches, runoff has already started doing its thing.
"What I've been telling people, as far as river flows, is that we're a month ahead," Tretter said. "But then as far as hatches and the spawn, we're even more ahead of schedule. Typically rainbows start spawning at the end of March into April, but I heard reports of fish spawning as early as February this year. And then with things like caddis hatches, we're seeing some really intense hatches right now that aren't typically happening until May or even June some years."
The main stem of the upper Colorado has been especially productive this spring. Flows have been on the lower side — water managers are focused on filling the upper reservoirs that function as the region's water savings accounts — but the fishing has made up for it. Spots that Tretter's clients typically wouldn't see good action until May were producing in late March.
That kind of early-season momentum is encouraging, but it also comes with a clock attached to it.
The Southern Half Is Already Struggling
Not all of Colorado is in the same boat, and the divide between north and south is worth paying attention to if you're planning a trip.
The Colorado River Basin and the northern half of the state are faring comparatively better in terms of snowpack. The Arkansas and Rio Grande River drainages to the south are in significantly worse shape. Down in the San Juan Mountains of the southwest, and across the border into parts of Utah and New Mexico, the situation is even more severe.
Katie Weeman, marketing and communications director for the Colorado Water Conservation Board, put some numbers to what's happening on a statewide level. "Right now, more than one-third of Colorado is in severe drought or worse, with extreme and exceptional drought already impacting key headwater regions," Weeman said. "Colorado's statewide average snow water equivalent is sixty-one percent of the median, which is the second lowest snow water equivalent in the past forty-six years."
The March heat wave that accelerated snowmelt has also made the drought conditions worse as spring has progressed.
Tretter acknowledged that recent snowfall in the central and northern mountains has provided a small dose of relief, but he's not putting much stock in it at this point. "It's been snowing up here, which is great. We love that," he said. "But I think at this point, it's all going to be too little too late. I don't think any amount of snow in April or May is going to save us from what's inevitable."
Watch the Water Temperature Closely
If the fishing is four to six weeks ahead of schedule in terms of hatches and productivity, it's reasonable to expect that the problems that usually arrive in August will show up in June or early July. For trout, that means water temperatures.
Trout begin to stress when water temperatures climb into the 68 to 70 degree Fahrenheit range. At those temperatures, the fish burn more energy just surviving and have less capacity to recover from the fight involved in catch-and-release fishing. This is when states implement what are known as hoot-owl restrictions — rules that typically require anglers to stop fishing by midday when river temperatures peak.
Each state handles these restrictions differently, and Colorado Parks and Wildlife did not respond to a request for comment about the specific thresholds that might trigger closures on major river systems this summer. But Tretter and his guides aren't waiting around for an official announcement to start planning for it.
"As of right now, when we're booking out ahead for July and August, we're booking only morning half days," Tretter said. "We're probably going to be getting on the water at like 6 or 7 a.m. But I've also heard rumors and warnings about the potential for full-day fishing closures, which means they shut us down entirely."
For anyone fishing independently, a stream thermometer is essential gear this season. When water temps start creeping above 67 degrees at lower elevations, experienced anglers will shift their attention to smaller, higher-elevation streams where cold water from snowmelt and springs keeps temperatures down even during hot spells. Getting off the big rivers by midday and letting the water cool overnight is a habit worth building now, before restrictions force the issue.
If You're Planning to Float, Plan Earlier
Floating the rivers of Colorado — in a drift boat, raft, or kayak — is one of the defining summer experiences for anglers across the West. This year, that window is going to be shorter and more compressed than usual on most systems.
Smaller tributaries are already showing the effects. The Eagle River, which Tretter guides, came up briefly in late March and appears to have already peaked for the year. There simply isn't enough remaining snowpack on the surrounding peaks to generate another significant runoff pulse.
Down in Durango, in the southwestern corner of Colorado, Duranglers co-owner John Flick has been running guided trips in that part of the state since the early 1980s. His operation holds special, limited permits to float the upper Rio Grande, which is regarded as one of the premier dry-fly rivers in the state. The surrounding San Juan Mountains also offer some of the best backcountry fly fishing in the region, with a network of wilderness creeks that most anglers never see.
Flick is still planning to run floats on the upper Rio starting in May, even though runoff in that drainage has likely already peaked. He's taking some encouragement from recent snowstorms and staying optimistic about the near-term picture.
"The only thing that could change things now is if we keep getting these spring snows and it stays cold," Flick said. "Come August, I don't know. But I know the first part of the summer is going to be just fine as far as fishing and floating. Usually we float into the second week of July, and I would think we'll still be able to float at least through the third week of June."
That's a shortened window compared to a normal year, but it's still a window worth booking into.
A Longer View From Someone Who's Seen This Before
Forty-plus years of guiding in Colorado gives a person perspective that no data chart can replicate. Flick has lived through droughts, bad winters, fire years, and all the variations in between. His long-range read on 2026 is grounded in that experience, and it's worth paying attention to.
The 2002 season is the historical analog most water managers and guides are pointing to this year. That was the last time Colorado's snowpack came close to the historic lows being recorded now, and it was also one of the worst fire years in state history. Flick remembers it clearly.
"That was a similar spring as far as snowpack, but we didn't get any of this precipitation that we're getting right now," he said. "I've been here long enough, and so have some of the older farmers, to know that we'll get the moisture. We always do. It just might not be when people want it."
He's also watched the broader shifts in Colorado's weather patterns unfold in real time over four decades. The winters are shorter and produce less snow. The summers run hotter and drier. Those changes have rippled through the fishing calendar in visible ways. When Flick started guiding back in the late 1980s and into the 1990s, he told clients to stay out of the high country until August. Over the years, that marker shifted earlier and earlier. By recent seasons, the Fourth of July had become a reasonable reference point for good alpine fishing. This year, he thinks some of those high-elevation creeks could be fishable as early as the first week of June.
"It's all kind of moving forward because we just don't get the snow that we used to," Flick said. "But we've seen all these ups and downs as far as weather and snowpack goes. So we don't panic too much."
The Best Advice Right Now: Get Out There
There's a version of this story that turns into nothing but doom — record drought, crashing reservoirs, dying rivers. That version isn't wrong, exactly, but it's incomplete.
The fishing in Colorado right now, in the early weeks of spring 2026, is genuinely good. The hatches are intense and happening weeks ahead of schedule. The fish are active. The crowds that typically show up in June haven't materialized yet because most people are still operating on the old calendar. That gap — between when the fishing is good and when the fishing is expected to be good — is where opportunity lives.
The guides who know these rivers best are telling clients to book now, fish mornings, carry a thermometer, and adjust expectations about floating windows and late-summer access. That's the playbook for this season.
Flick put it as plainly as anyone could. "Everybody is already worrying about hoot owls and all that shit. But I think we have a long ways to go before that," he said. "Ski season sucked. But you know, it might just freaking rain all of June."
He's been watching these rivers long enough to know the difference between a crisis and a season that just needs to be approached differently. This year falls into the second category — for now. The window is real, and it's open. The question is whether anglers are willing to move with it.
