Cutthroat

Fished the outlet stream of Mitchel Lake, after hiking up to Blue Lake.  Busted brush and willows to find open spots in the small stream.   Close quarters combat style fishing but the trout were hungry for my #14 caddis dry fly and were very strong fighters.

Cory, Dean and Sons

Cory and Kyle came to Colorado for a long weekend at the beginning of August.  We camped near Parshal for our base camp and explored the Colorado River near the Breeze Unit and also up in Rocky Mountain National Forest.  I was proud of Stefan being bale to hang in there all weekend with us, and at his desire to wade into the water with me, even when he didn't have waders on.

Stefan Ice Fishes - Willow Creek Reservoir, CO

 

click here for Stefans Video

So this was a big deal.  Not just that Stefan caught his first fish from under the ice, or that he was able to recognize when a fish was biting and set the hook and reel it in all by himself.

A few days prior I got up early and left the cabin before he and Nadya were awake.   I had a lead from a friend on where to go and I needed an ice auger to test the location.   It was 2 degrees when I started the 30 minute drive to the tackle shop in Granby to rent the auger.  By 8:30 I had broken through a few holes that were drilled the previous day and began my first ice fishing attempt.   After a few hours of sitting in the quiet, I landed three just after 10:00 and returned to the cabin knowing I had a least found a location that harbored some fish.

The next day we hired I guide to take Stefan and I out on Grand Lake.   We were set up with a tent, gear and even a depth finder to see when a fish came near our bait.   Even with all of this we only landed one fish in 5 hours of trying, and Stefan was a patient trooper through it all.  The guide gave Stefan a new ice fishing rod and small box of lures.

Stefan was excited and wanted to try again, so we went out the next morning before heading home.   I took him back to the first reservoir where I had caught the three fish.  AFter re-tapping the same holes, immediately after dropping a line I had one one and let Stefan reel it in.   Then, with him sitting on a bucket fishing his own hole he told me he thought there was a fish at his bait.   I told him to set the hook and he did and shortly after he reeled in his very own caught fish.   After getting it in we did some high fives and I, still on my knees, pulled him close and hugged and swirled him around. 

We then set a goal to catch four before leaving, and when we did we set a goal to get ten.   Every fish catch was marked in the snow with the handle of the ice scooper.   Then we were at 9, and the action had slowed over the nearly two hours.   Stefan wanted to see me drill a brand new hole with the manual ice auger.  After about 15 minutes and several breaks we were through the 2 feet of ice.  As a last attempt before we left, I dropped the line in and immediately had a hit.   I pulled the rod hard over my head and heard the twang of the line snapping and then saw it coiled up on the slush in the hole.  I yelled to Stefan that the line had broken and I would need to pull it in by hand.   Playing it up a bit, I danced around the hole while pulling line in and exclaiming that "its still on!".  Then we had out 10th, Stefan marked it, and we stepped back to look at the tally before walking back to the truck.

It was nice, not only that we caught a bunch in short time and Stefan had caught five of them himself.  It was also nice in that I had put the work into getting a reco, scouting the place early one day before anyone got up, and that we did it on our own without the guide.   

Foggy Morning Duck Hunt

Colorado River

Fished the Colorado near he kids fishing pond.  Saw a few deer hunters in the car park.  I caught four, including a nice 16" brown and similar rainbow, and lost four more, on small nymphs.  I had driven over in the morning (on the water 3 hrs after leaving the driveway), fished for four hours, and drove back before dinner.   Water was low and easily wadable, sunny bluebird sky, in the low 20s in the morning and mid 50s when I left.

Stefan Fishing 201

Stefan, my dad and I went to Coot Lake tonight for an hour after dinner. This is the third time in three weeks and he has improved each time. First time he hooked the fish and I removed the hook, showing him how to hold the fish so as not to get poked by the bluegill spines. Second time I took the hook out and placed the fish in his hand and be threw it back. This time he caught one, and before I knew it he had the fish in hand and wiggled the hook out and casually tossed it back in as if he'd been doing it for years.

Glad my dad was there to see this, too. He mentioned to me later this eve that he was impressed with Stefan.

Next Stefan wants to learn how to tie the hook on. After that he'll be able to fish on his own. What will I do for him now?

Roaring Fork and Frying Pan with Dad

Sunday

After packing up the truck we left the house around noon and stopped at Rocky Mountain Anglers on the way out of Boulder to pick up a license for Dad.  After a pleasant four hour drive filled with good chatting and nice scenery we arrived at Roaring Fork Anglers fly shop in Glenwood Springs to gather some intel, and then we were off to Frying Pan Anglers in Basalt for the same.  Before checking in to the cabin we went back down river and stopped at the Whole Foods and City Market for some food. Stefan and I talked on the phone here and reminded me he wanted to come with us. The last few weeks he’s realized it would be nice for him to come along, and he’s been asking if it will happen when he’s 8 or next year, which are both the same. In the evening in the cabn we rigged up to fish the Toilet Bowl pool the next morning and I tied up some newly invented mysis shrimp patterns.

Monday

We started at the Toilet Bowl very early and were surprised to see a camping van next to the river, with the camper already fishing the hole.  It was a cold morning with no luck though I did have some big fish look at my fly in the run right below the hole.  We drove down to the Big Bend pool by 8:45 and I walked from the truck through the willow trees to riverside and saw fish rising.   We waded across this wide, shallow section and fished the far bank.  Big fish were 3ft downstream of us feeding off of the bugs we kicked up.  Activity picked up around 10:30-11:30 with the fish feeding on small emergers, and we could see the fish rise up vertically in the water column before sipping them in. I caught two here after many rejections and many more casts.  We went back to the cabin for lunch and fished the cabin’s private water across the road in the afternoon, but had no luck for the hard work we put into it.  We drove up over Ruedi Reservoir in the afternoon and then fished the Gauging Station pool in the evening.   Right when the sun went off the water there were fish rising until 7:30.  I caught two more and dad had several hits on dries.   It was a lot of fun watching the activity even though we missed quite a few of the strikes.

Tuesday

We started back at the Big Bend pool at 8:30.   Fish followed the same pattern as yesterday – they were on emergers and very small stuff and very picky.   One hit my blood knot.   They refused most offerings due to micro-drag.  In the evening, just as a heavy rain let up, we had several hits at the Gauging Station pool with Wooly Buggers and Grey Ghost streamers.  I had one hard strike on a black Wooly Bugger in some rapid pocket water.  I had decided to fish the Brooks method (heavy sunk fly, short amount of line out, guiding the fly in the water around close boulders) and immediately had a hit.  A big brown tore down stream, leaped out of the water, and then was off.   I had another similar hit a bit further across the stream but this time the fish broke me off.

Wednesday

It was a grey, cool, 50 degree morning with a few left over sprinkles and low hanging clouds filling in the crevices of the peaks above us.   The first two days were slow going, since we had started on what is undoubtedly the most challenging part of the river – it gets tons of pressure every day of the year, there is a lot of insect activity so the fish can be selective, and the currents are the type that would cause excessive drag unless you were constantly on your A-game.  After thinking about it overnight I decided to return us to the Gauging Station hole today and swing streamers since this is what was giving us the most consistent action and played to dad’s preferred style of fishing long, deep runs down and across.  As we were crossing Baetis bridge I looked down stream and made a spur of the moment decision to turn downstream instead of up, away from the Gauging Station hole, to check out the water below.  It looked good and no one was there so we parked along the stream and rigged up.  Dad suggested we first try above Baetis bridge before anyone gets there so we walked up and fished from the right bank.  I had rigged Dad up with a sinking leader, shot, black wooly bugger and a pheasant tail nymph.  He caught two from this hole.   At 10:00 Dad went back down to the truck and I crossed the bridge to fish the left bank.  I got into a really nice hatch of Baetis and Pale Morning Duns.   Many fish were poking their noses out, rolling up out of the water all around.   I caught four nice fish on #18 parachute Adam’s and PMD dries and missed many more.  It was a classic episode with a lot of activity and where I could target a particular rising fish.  After a while I returned to the truck and learned from Dad that he caught a few more there.   Throughout the day fish rose sporatically in this water where we had parked, which was called the Slide Pool.  At 2:00, under classic cool air and overcast skies, Baetis started popping off and fish followed. I had seen this begin – the fish started about fifteen minutes earlier chasing emergers rising in the water column.  I caught several nice fish on the surface and then, 15 minutes later, clumsy PMDs started coming off.   I tied a 2 fly rig of Adams with a PMD dry trailing it and caught several more.  At 3:00 the sun came out and under blue skies everything stopped.   We went back the the cabin and made dinner before heading back out.   Once we returned to Slide Pool I just sat on the river’s edge watching the stream breathe.  I was reminded of my favorite English chalk stream, the River Coln, and its quiet elegance.  Only a few flies were active now – a few midges, a couple of caddis, a BWO or two.  I sat and watched the colors evolve on the hillside across stream, which reached high up into the sky and became our constant companion throughout the week.  I thought Mom would love to paint this hillside as it changed its colors.  Dad caught a few more fish including two right at dark on a dry spinner rig we made the night prior.  The Slide Pool would become our favorite part of the stream, one that we wouldn’t have found if not for that spur of the moment decision to turn downstream instead of upstream.  It’s often those unplanned events that lead you to great experiences

Thursday

Today we floated the Roaring Fork River form Carbondale downstream seven miles.  We met up with the guide at Frying Pan Anglers in the morning before following him down to the boat launch.  We were originally planning on floating the Colorado but, after a day of rain, the guide informed us the ‘Raddy was too discolored to fish.  He suggested the Roaring Fork, though he had not floated it in several months and the water was very low.   This fact, plus a bluebird sky did not make me feel confident that it would be a productive day but we decided to forge ahead anyway.   Not soon after we got in the boat we pulled to the right bank edge to re-rig and were greeted by a young lady and her black lab playing a banjo on the bank of the river. By the end of the day dad had put three in the boat, lost two large fish and had may strikes.  The magic ticket was either a two-streamer combo stripped in fast, or a tandem rig of Ice Breakers and Pheasant Tails.    One of the things that we were constantly reminded of is how small the flies can be, as we were having luck on size 20 and smaller.   Dad hooked into a large rainbow that took him down stream almost into the backing.  We chased him with the boat for several hundred yards and anchored up, but the guide could not get out to net the fish as we were in a no-trespassing part of the river and eventually the fish broke loose.  The other fish was a 20” brown who stayed deep came off after a long fight, right at the boat as I tried to net him while untangling it on the anchor rope at the stern.  I caught about 12 fish including a big rainbow and two big browns.  We then checked into our new cabins at Snowmass and made bacon and eggs for dinner.  We smelled gas when we walked into the cabin and called the owners over to inspect it.  When making dinner, I tried to light the stove and couldn’t get it to work until I realized it was an electric stove.

Friday

We decided at breakfast, on the spur of the moment, to drive up through Aspen to Independence Pass. We stopped at Starbucks in Aspen and later joked how we were underdressed for that event. It was a beautiful sunny autumn morning and the aspens were in golden bloom and the sunlight sliced though them in classic fashion.   When we arrived at the pass, above those aspens, we walked to the lookout point and I took a few pictures, with many cameras, of a leather clad biker troop who were traveling from Louisiana.  We then hiked up to Linkins Lake, which is above tree-line.  It was a very cool experience, and fishing in a lake above tree-line had been on my bucket list.  I caught a nice 10” brook trout in full spawning colors and my dad caught a small one.  We walked up the tiny stream feeding the lake, over a cushion of soft peat-like earth, and Dad spotted some brookies in a small pool.  We crawled on our bellies and hands & knees to the very edge of the pool and peered over the edge to see about five nice sized trout.  I slowly inched my rod over the pool, keeping only a foot of line out of the water, but the fish saw the shadow of the rod on the floor of the pool and immediately spooked. We both really liked the lake and the hike up to it, and talked about how it reminded us of a time we were in France with Nadya and Mom and, at spur of the moment, decided to take the train into Paris for a few hours.  It’s often those unplanned events that lead you to great experiences. That evening we fished the Slide Pool on the Frying Pan again where Dad caught one and lost one at twilight on Rusty Spinners.

Saturday

We woke up and drove down to the Colorado River at New Castle by 9:00.  A Trico fall was in progress but no fish were active on it.   The water was discolored.  Dad caught a fat rainbow and I had on a few that got off.  I did land a nice brown and a rainbow but they were foul hooked.  All were caught within 3 feet of the shore in fast water on a brown wooly bugger or a small nymph trailer.   At 3:00 we decided to leave.  We stopped at a c-store for candy, chips and a soda before returning to the Slide Pool on the Pan one last time.   It was an idyllic evening as the sun set.  A few fish were moving and Dad landed one.  At dusk, and after dark, we fished Rusty Spinners to fish that suddenly began podding up right along the edge.   I had many follows where the fish would put its nose up to the fly and then retreat without taking it.   I ended up landing a few on a #22 Trico spinner and a #10 Green Drake dry at dark, and Dad landed two at dark.  When we left we looked up between then canyon walls that surrounded us and saw a field of black brilliantly dotted with stars.

Finally, a spark

Today Stefan and I went fishing.   Although we'd been numerous times before, usually with me hooking the fish and him reeling it in, this was the first time I woke him "early" before mom got up. 

At 6:00 I got up and put two rods and a tackle box in the truck and then went to wake Stefan.   Although we talked about it the night before, I was not sure we would wake up raring to go.  I was wrong - he jumped out of bed.  We whispered as we got some breakfast and sneaked quietly out the side garage door so as not to wake up mom with the main door. On the way to the lake, I took a longer route over dirt roads, rather than the highway, and snaked through the countryside as the sun began to brighten.

At first he was bored and I thought it would be another quick trip.   Then, he took the spinning rod I had rigged with a slip bobber and Powerbait and dropped the bait into the water 12 inches from shore.  Immediately small bluegills darted toward his bait and teased the bobber under.  He was able to see the fish take the bait and he set the hook himself, lifting in small fish to shore.   Now he was excited, and he continued for 20 minutes pulling 8 fish to shore with countless others falling off the hook.  "This is fun", he said.  One monster, abut 2 inches long, gave us a laugh.   He also figured out how to work the spinning reel...opening the bail, tripping it, casting a bit.

Afterward, we topped it off with fine dining at Denny's for breakfast.

Roaring Fork Valley

Spend the last weekend of July doing some recon for an upcoming trip with my dad.   We'll be staying on the Pan and Fork cabin style.   I wanted to scout the area so that we minimize the time spent looking for places to fish.   As this was my first trip to the valley I doing a fair bit of driving around, but the fishing I did get in was good.

I started driving up the Frying Pan, marking likely spots on my GPS as I drove upstream.   I ended up below the dam and caught some nice browns and rainbows on 18ish emergers and nymphs.   Drove to the Crystal and was amazed at how low it was - if I pee'd in it it would have risen   Scouted the Roaring Fork and went back to the pan.  Caught a really nice 18" brown on the surface during a spinner fall at dusk.  No-one on the stream at this hour, which was quite opposite earlier in the day.

All in all, about 5 hrs fished and 8-10 trout landed, with most 16"+.

Eagle River

I had a few evening hours open up while we were in Edwards, CO.  It was the middle of a string of 95 degree days and I hit the river upstream of Eagle just south of the Diamond S Ranch.   Caddis were everywhere, thick, thick, thick.   Swarms of them hovering above the willow bushes, crawling on their limbs, racing upstream over the riffles.  But nothing was stirring on the fish end of things.   As the sun met the western mountain tops a few fish finally rose.  I had three take caddis on top but couldn't get them to net.  One good fish switched from a splashy rise to a rolling emerger chaser before I hooked him.  At one point I looked across river and saw two large elk at waters edge, with about a half dozen or so of their relatives in the field beyond.