Did you ever forget your fishing rod...twice?

South Platte River, Cheesman Canyon, Colorado
Arrived at the river at 0800 this morning.  19 degrees on its way to the upper thirties.  Clear.

Since I was first in the parking lot and I knew it would take some time for the water to warm up, I drove down the canyon a bit to get my bearings to this new area.  Then, I geared up and began walking the snow packed Gill Trail toward the river for about 10 minutes.  The hike up the south side of the mountain got slippy in my wading boots, so I returned to the truck to put on my hiking boots.  In the parking lot now was another guy and we traded small talk.  After gearing up again, wading boots in hand, I started out once more and glanced over my shoulder at the other guy and noticed he was stringing his rod.  Then the thought occurred to me...I had better take my rod, as well!  Who knows how far I would have gotten if I had not turned around for my hiking boots.

After hiking through a pine forest up the side of Cheesman Mountain, 15 minutes later I was at the top looking down at the canyon, where I could hear the river.  Over the next mile I crept along the side of the canyon, hearing the roar of the river below and catching sight of it in bits and pieces as I moved on.  The dirt path took me past boulders, sage grass, and pine trees for a bit more and then I saw a nice spot from 300 feet above.  Nice vantage point from which to plan the hunt.

Down over the hill, walking stream side now, I saw a nice fish in a foot of smooth water.  I changed boots, sneaked in the water, and proceeded to put the fish down quite quickly after a few casts.

Around 1100, after messing around the run for a bit, getting used to the river, and straining to see my small indicator I decided to put on a larger indicator to get a better sense of my drifts.  I cast into a slot that fed a deep hole and immediately hooked and landed a nice 14" brown on a #22/24 black bead head thread nymph.  He fought nicely with a jump or two thrown in for special effect.  He was a nice colored fish, with a bright, butter-yellow belly, sharp white fin edges, and pointed red spots on his side.

I caught a bird, too, who somehow got tangled in my leader as it fell on the rock on which he sat.  After pulling him from the air I untangled and released him.  A bald eagle flew over me on his way down stream.  Boulders the size of large houses in the stream.   

A few midges popped at 1:00 but no risers.  No one seemed to be catching anything.  It was as advertised...crowded.   Guys we in nearly every nice looking spot and when I got back to the parking lot there were about 30 vehicles there.  This is a Monday, MLK holiday....I likely will not visit it on a weekend.  Clear water with flow at around 200cfs.

Pics below.