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Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Crickets
The crickets have been out the last several weeks, and in the last few nights they have been very active. We've been sleeping with the windows open nearly every night this summer and have had the pleasure of hearing these little creatures call to one another as the cool night air slowly wafts across the bed.
You all know the sound so I won't try to explain it, especially since I could not do it justice. Let's leave it at the fact that these beautiful sounds are much more complex than can ever be described in a few words.
Cricket sounds are a gentle potion of both happy and sad at the same time, and remind me of the title of a Pink Floyd song, The Delicate Sound of Thunder. At first, when you hear the crickets its often a small, faraway sound, and then it slowly creeps up closer to you until they are infiltrating your ears with that wonderful rumble...but you know from experience that the rain is not far behind. As I listen to the crickets, I am thinking that this is one of the glorious sounds of summer, like the cicadas, the ice cream truck, and the joyful screams of kids playing in the sprinklers, yet it also means that autumn is not far behind.
Indeed, the air is cooler now and a bit more crisp than it was a few weeks ago and I am reminded that we must yet again brace for winter's grip on us. Yet at the same time the crickets take me back to wonderful boyhood memories of scouting for deer prior to archery season, to a last fling with a small Wisconsin spring creek not so long ago, to Canadian fishing trips, and that childhood anticipation that came with the promise of another school year ready to begin.
You all know the sound so I won't try to explain it, especially since I could not do it justice. Let's leave it at the fact that these beautiful sounds are much more complex than can ever be described in a few words.
Cricket sounds are a gentle potion of both happy and sad at the same time, and remind me of the title of a Pink Floyd song, The Delicate Sound of Thunder. At first, when you hear the crickets its often a small, faraway sound, and then it slowly creeps up closer to you until they are infiltrating your ears with that wonderful rumble...but you know from experience that the rain is not far behind. As I listen to the crickets, I am thinking that this is one of the glorious sounds of summer, like the cicadas, the ice cream truck, and the joyful screams of kids playing in the sprinklers, yet it also means that autumn is not far behind.
Indeed, the air is cooler now and a bit more crisp than it was a few weeks ago and I am reminded that we must yet again brace for winter's grip on us. Yet at the same time the crickets take me back to wonderful boyhood memories of scouting for deer prior to archery season, to a last fling with a small Wisconsin spring creek not so long ago, to Canadian fishing trips, and that childhood anticipation that came with the promise of another school year ready to begin.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Boulder Creek and Blue River
I fished Boulder Creek again on the way over to Breckenridge, where we stayed with some friends from Kansas City. I arrived before 6:30 and started at Roger's Park area but found it to be not real productive, so I moved upstream to where I fished a few days ago. It was a little better here, though the fish were not nearly as aggressive as last time. I picked up a few small browns and rainbows. Very small grey caddis were swarming, and a handful of green drakes were coming off.
I took the Peak to Peak Highway from Nederland to I-70 over to Breckenridge. Shortly after arriving and saying hello to Nadya, Stefan and our friends we had a nice lunch together. Afterward, Kevin and I went on a recon mission. We stopped in the flyshop in Breck and then hit the Blue River near the Colorado Mountain College. A storm had just moved out, and the skies were grey with some intermittent sprinkles. I caught two nice browns - one smashed a Trude dry fly in the margin of the near bank, and the other I saw flash at the #16 bead head pheasant tail dropper as it quickly slid under some overhanging willows on the far side.
We fished down stream to the beaver ponds where Kevin was standing below the dam, casting up into the pond. I could see some blue wing olive duns sitting on the surface across the pond, and fish were rising to them. Kevin hooked one and I netted it as it slid over the dam's falls.
Just upstream from the dam the stream widened with a long riffled run. I saw a few fish rising in 3 ft wide eddy on the far bank that was partially covered by an overhanging willow. A good sized head slowly and repeatedly popped itself up out of the water far enough that I could see its eye. I missed the takes after many futile drifts.
On the stream side of the eddy, I later saw another fish rising to emergers in the current, sticking its nose out of the water that was clear enough to see that it was a large rainbow. I tied on a #18 BWO emerger and after a few drifts I had the pleasure of seeing him rise up to it, open its mouth, and retreat down as I set the hook into the 20" fish - one of those fish that had a mouth that looked too big for its body.
Kevin was working some fish downstream from me. One was a nice rainbow that was cruising the shallows near him, slowly feeding on midges. Kevin's dry was sucked under on one of the passes, and quickly pulled out of its mouth without stinging the fish. A few minutes later we watched the fish come back and move up to the fly, suck it in, and Kevin put the hook into flesh. A few minutes later I netted the 22" rainbow for him.
That afternoon, we took the kids out to the upper part of Dillon Reservoir where the Blue River entered. Us, the kids, and the wives walked a good quarter mile through a willow thicket that paralleled the river and then opened up into a cool little beach. As the kids played on the beach Kevin hooked a rainbow on Powerbait hung under a bobber, and walked to shore with it so Piper could reel it in. After that, we drove around for a bit looking for another place to fish, only to end up back at the reservoir but at another spot. The kids were entertained on the beach and rocks, and I hooked up with a nice rainbow that I caught on a sunk Powerbait that Stefan soon reeled in. Kevin landed another. Piper was a trooper, rolling up her pants, wading barefoot into the lake with us and casting quite well for a long while.
Later that evening, Kevin and I went back to the Blue River, and I caught two more fish in the willow lined run - a small one on the BHPT dropper, and a nice strong rainbow on a Royal Humpy dry. We fished until dusk, at which time there were fish rising all over the place in the beaver pond, yet we failed to get a strike. I did have a hit, though, as I dragged a big mouse pattern across the pond just after sunrise.
I took the Peak to Peak Highway from Nederland to I-70 over to Breckenridge. Shortly after arriving and saying hello to Nadya, Stefan and our friends we had a nice lunch together. Afterward, Kevin and I went on a recon mission. We stopped in the flyshop in Breck and then hit the Blue River near the Colorado Mountain College. A storm had just moved out, and the skies were grey with some intermittent sprinkles. I caught two nice browns - one smashed a Trude dry fly in the margin of the near bank, and the other I saw flash at the #16 bead head pheasant tail dropper as it quickly slid under some overhanging willows on the far side.
We fished down stream to the beaver ponds where Kevin was standing below the dam, casting up into the pond. I could see some blue wing olive duns sitting on the surface across the pond, and fish were rising to them. Kevin hooked one and I netted it as it slid over the dam's falls.
Just upstream from the dam the stream widened with a long riffled run. I saw a few fish rising in 3 ft wide eddy on the far bank that was partially covered by an overhanging willow. A good sized head slowly and repeatedly popped itself up out of the water far enough that I could see its eye. I missed the takes after many futile drifts.
On the stream side of the eddy, I later saw another fish rising to emergers in the current, sticking its nose out of the water that was clear enough to see that it was a large rainbow. I tied on a #18 BWO emerger and after a few drifts I had the pleasure of seeing him rise up to it, open its mouth, and retreat down as I set the hook into the 20" fish - one of those fish that had a mouth that looked too big for its body.
Kevin was working some fish downstream from me. One was a nice rainbow that was cruising the shallows near him, slowly feeding on midges. Kevin's dry was sucked under on one of the passes, and quickly pulled out of its mouth without stinging the fish. A few minutes later we watched the fish come back and move up to the fly, suck it in, and Kevin put the hook into flesh. A few minutes later I netted the 22" rainbow for him.
That afternoon, we took the kids out to the upper part of Dillon Reservoir where the Blue River entered. Us, the kids, and the wives walked a good quarter mile through a willow thicket that paralleled the river and then opened up into a cool little beach. As the kids played on the beach Kevin hooked a rainbow on Powerbait hung under a bobber, and walked to shore with it so Piper could reel it in. After that, we drove around for a bit looking for another place to fish, only to end up back at the reservoir but at another spot. The kids were entertained on the beach and rocks, and I hooked up with a nice rainbow that I caught on a sunk Powerbait that Stefan soon reeled in. Kevin landed another. Piper was a trooper, rolling up her pants, wading barefoot into the lake with us and casting quite well for a long while.
Later that evening, Kevin and I went back to the Blue River, and I caught two more fish in the willow lined run - a small one on the BHPT dropper, and a nice strong rainbow on a Royal Humpy dry. We fished until dusk, at which time there were fish rising all over the place in the beaver pond, yet we failed to get a strike. I did have a hit, though, as I dragged a big mouse pattern across the pond just after sunrise.
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