Ramblings

I was lucky enough to get my hands on some beautiful browns in town a few weeks ago. I was also lucky enough to get a short little write-up about it over at Orvis. Check it out:

http://www.orvisnews.com/FlyFishing/Picture-of-the-Day-Surprise-Brown-Trout.aspx

Originally posted @ FishExplorer.com

I am not one for superstitions. I don’t mind walking under a ladder or having a black cat cross my path and don’t believe that breaking a mirror brings seven years of bad luck. But I am pretty sure I jinxed myself. The previous two blogs that I wrote have come back to haunt me. I should never have mentioned how slow it is at my day job and I definitely should not have written anything on the LDR issue.

It all started this past weekend when some friends and I hiked in to a canyon to get some exercise and do some fishing. The canyon is an amazing place. If you are looking for solitude and some decent fishing, that is the place to find it. On this day however, the fishing was off for most of us and most of the day I didn’t even have a bite. Then I happened upon a nice pool and saw a decent rainbow swim out from shore. So I sat there and fished him for a good thirty minutes. After multiple reties and depth changes, I hooked in to him. He was a big rainbow, at least 20”!But, as you may have already assumed, he got off after a minute of having a bit of fun. LDR.

Then Monday roles around and it’s off to work again. Work was just as slow as I had mentioned previously. I sometimes bring my fishing gear with me to work just in case I can leave early and try my luck at the local fishing hole, but it seems that every time I have it with me we get busy at work and I get bummed that I’m not leaving early to go fishing. So this day I did not bring my setup and wouldn’t you know, I got off early. I rushed home, grabbed my gear and headed to the creek.

It was on fire! I have never seen so much action since I started fishing it last year. Sitting and watching, I was pretty sure that the chub in the river were spawning so the browns were coming out to play. So I tied up and started casting. I fished for three hours, I caught three little creek chub and that was it. With all the action I was seeing in the water, I couldn’t get a single trout out of the water. I did however get blessed with yet another LDR by a nice brown that was pushing 10” or so.

Tuesday morning arrives and I am feeling pretty superstitious at this point. I kept telling myself I should not have written a word about LDRs. I should not have mentioned getting off work early. I should have kept these things to myself and I may have been able to land a few more fish because of it. But then again, what a difference a day makes.

There was no difference in my work load at my day job. Same old same old – go in at 6 a.m., get a handful of jobs completed, bitch and moan about how there is no work coming in, and then leave at 1. But this time I had my fly rod in the car.

I was on the water at 2 and had a few hours to fish until I had to pick up my son from daycare. So I went over to the same spot I had visited the day before. I sat watching - same action underwater as I had seen previously. I wondered what flies to tie on, looked in my fly box and grabbed a couple then put them back. Grabbed another and put it back and then finally settled on a couple of flies I had tied up last year but never used.  The rest of the day was insane!

By the end of my session I had landed two in the 8” range, two in the 16” range, and my final fish of the day was probably my biggest brown trout to date. In my head he was close to 24”, but I’m aware that the imagination can round up numbers when one is holding one of the larger trout one has ever caught.

What really matters to me is the feeling of having something that size take a fly that I created myself, catching him on a 3 wt. rod and getting to hold him in my hands. I did also have half a dozen LDRs, but honestly those didn’t matter to me at all. All that mattered was that on this day, my luck had changed.

 

Originally posted @ FishExplorer.com

So I realize that a tug is a tug. I should be happy that a fish was fooled by a fly I tied, took the bait, and that I got to have a little fun with him for a bit. But I want to know who came up with the ‘Long Distance Release’ saying,

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great phrase. It helps ease the pain of not getting the fish into the net. It helps to justify the fact that you must have done something wrong — had too much or too little line tension, didn’t have the rod high enough in the air, or just that the fish was smart enough to know how to jump at just the right angle to get that fly unhooked.

These things happen to everyone at some point or another, but hopefully for me, they’ll happen less frequently the better I become at fly fishing. But every time I have a fish on for more than a few seconds, I am already picturing it in my net. When that doesn’t happen it can be a bit frustrating. Recently I was fishing the rainbow spawn and had the biggest fish of the day on the line. It must have been at least a couple of minutes, which feels like an eternity, and then the fly popped out. Frustrating to say the least, but then my friend said to me “Hey, nice LDR, at least you didn’t have to mess with the net and the fly stuck in its mouth.”

Although true, this statement didn’t make me feel any better. I was looking forward to holding the 28” rainbow (well probably closer to 20”, but in my head I’m sticking with 28”). It’s frustrating to know that I may have done something wrong, — that I should have been more aware of exactly where the fish was going.

But at the end of the day I got over my mishap and was excited to have had a fish on the line. So until I become a master angler, I will have to live with my love/hate relationship with the term “Long Distance Release.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9rdj-FRN8o

And as long as we are discussing LDRs, might as throw up some video proof of it in action.

Originally posted @ FishExplorer.com

My day job is working in an industry that is slowly going the way of the eight track — printing. I thought I was starting a good career 12 years ago by teaching myself digital graphics, but as it turns out, even the Encyclopedia Britannica is going the digital route so my industry is not doing well. It seems like I may have to start rethinking this whole career thing and find something else to earn a living by. Good thing my hobby, my passion, will never be in decline as far as I’m concerned. So at least I have that going for me.

Last year, as my company had three separate layoffs, I was lucky enough to have been told a secret. A secret about big brown trout and big rainbow trout right here in Denver. I didn’t really believe it at first, but as they say – the proof is in the video. So I went searching the YouTubes and came across a handful of videos of some decent fish being caught here in town. It was my mission last year to catch some of those fish and I succeeded way beyond my expectations. I had more success with one species, the brown trout, but the rainbow trout had alluded me. So I made it my goal this year to get in to some bows.

My first couple of outings didn’t yield much, but I kept searching. I knew that the rainbow spawn would hit early this year because of unseasonably warm weather across the state. I would go fishing after work, because when there isn’t much work to be done I get off early – which is a double-edged sword. I would also go for a few hours on the weekend when I wasn’t hitting some tailwater elsewhere. I was determined and persistent and it finally paid off.

 

One Sunday morning when my mother-in-law took my three-year old son to swimming lessons and my wife was busy, I shot up the road to try yet again, and wouldn’t you know, I found the bows! When the timing is right, it is quite easy. The hard part is actually finding the time. Last year I fished the same spot on three different occasions and came up skunked.

This year, this first quarter, I got lucky and the timing was perfect. Within the first 20 minutes I had my first rainbow on and in the net. I had another five in the net by the end of the hour. The next hour was slow and I was about to try another part of the river when I got a phone call from Alan, a fellow FxR member. He was in the area picking up some equipment to try his hand at fly fishing, it was good to meet up and wet a line with him.

 

I showed him my spot and told him to have a go and within five minutes…fish on! The next couple of hours were slow, with me only netting one more rainbow, but she was a beauty of a rainbow, if I do say so myself. Glad Alan was there to play photographer and also glad he was there to do a little dredging and do his part for the river clean up.

The next week I hit the same spot two more times and did fairly well but not as good as the first, which is to be expected. Can’t really complain though, because my first quarter numbers kept me in the black.

Jon

Can’t wait to see this full length movie from RC Cone – Presented by Imago

How do you Breathe?

Originally posted @ Deuter

Decisions…Decisions

The past few years have not been so good to certain football fans. Particularly to me, having grown up in Buffalo and now living in Denver. So the decision was fairly easy to make – go fishing! It didn’t hurt that the weather was a perfect 50 degrees with not a cloud in the sky (not bad for a mid-December day). I threw my equipment into my Speed Lite 20, hopped in the car and drove 15 minutes up the road.

On this day there would be no hiking above treeline, or stuffing my pack with 50 pounds of gear and hiking for ten miles. It was going to be an easy day in town. It had to be since everything above 7,000 feet was frozen solid and I really didn’t feel like hiking in an auger to cut through a frozen lake. So a nice stroll along the creek would have to suffice.

I started out at a new spot that I hadn’t fished before. Not knowing what to expect, I was surprised when I walked up to the first hole and saw half a dozen fish slowly swimming the shore. Unfortunately, I saw them from a foot bridge and there wasn’t a clear area to cast from. So I hiked down below the bridge and roll casted as far as I could. Not good enough. Either my cast or my stumbling over the snow-covered rocks had scared the fish, and after half an hour I decided to continue exploring.

I walked the side of the river for another half a mile. I saw a few good spots that might have held fish but there didn’t appear to be any signs of life in the water. I wet my line in a couple of spots, got tangled up in more than a couple of spots, and after an hour decided to pack it in and drive to an area that was more familiar.

Arriving at the parking lot, I was greeted by a park ranger. He was shocked to see someone out in that area fly fishing. He tried his hardest to get me to give up my secret locations, but I was purposely vague, which may have been the annoyance that caused him to ask for my fishing license. He wished me luck and I was on my way.

Another nice thing about fishing while a football game is on is that most people are actually sitting indoors and watching the game. Not that this area gets much pressure from fishermen, but it was nice not to see the crowds of hikers that I normally would see in the area.

As I got to my first hole, I was getting ready to cast in to a deep pool, when a couple of fighter jets roared by overhead. Obviously they had just done a fly by over Mile High Stadium and the football game was underway. I took this to be a good omen and three casts later it was fish on!

I was in tight quarters, I was hooked in to a nice brown trout with tree branches a couple feet overhead and using a 3 wt. rod. I did not want this fish to get off the hook. I was on my knees and stripping line in as gently as possible. Within a couple of minutes the fish was in the net.

After a few pictures and a gentle release, the beautiful brown trout was back where he belonged. It was time for me to pack up and head home as well. Although there was only one fish caught in a few hours of fishing, it was a perfect day. The only thing left was to get home and watch the Broncos win their sixth straight game. What? Did you think I would actually miss the game? It’s 2011 and I have a DVR.

Jon

Originally posted @ Deuter.

Tis the end of the hiking season. Ok, the end of my hiking season. The snow is making its way to the high country. I wanted to get one last hike in before it was too cold and the high mountain lakes started to freeze. This time I went solo.

I had the morning free so I was up early and at the trailhead at 5:45 am. I put my headlamp on, got out of the jeep and was struck by the 28 degree air. I was prepared for the cold, so it wasn’t an issue as I hauled my Futura Pro onto my back. Have I mentioned how much I love this pack? Anyways, the 28 degrees wasn’t bad in part because there was no wind to speak of.

 

This was actually the first time I have ever hiked in the dark and I would definitely do it again. It was such a different experience, only being able to see the trail for as far as my headlamp would shine. I have been on this trail multiple times, but seeing it only eight feet at a time was a very strange sensation. Halfway through the hike the sky was turning from black to the darkest purple I had ever seen. I have always gotten up early but I have never been hiking on the side of a mountain at this time of day and I was glad I had. I’m positive that those of you who hike 14’ers have seen this many times, but for me it was inspiring.

As I approached the lake, the ground was frozen and the trickles of water running over the rocks were not fully thawed. For a split second I thought that the lake might already have started to freeze, but as I approached I was relieved to see that it hadn’t. As I was getting my gear together and threading the fly line through the eyelits, the sun was just starting to hit the peaks that stood 1,000 feet above me.

To give you a little background on the lake I was fishing, it is part of a group of lakes that my friends and I refer to as the Lockjaw Lakes – meaning the fish have “lockjaw” and hardly ever take a fly. You can see them swimming all over the place, but when your fly hits the water they either scatter or come over to have a look and then slowly swim away. This day would be no different.

The first hour of fishing brought no signs of cutthroat trout, but I did stumble upon a family of ptarmigan. I hear them all the time when I am at these high altitude lakes, but I have never seen them close up before. This time it seemed they couldn’t care less that I was in their area and were just slowly walking around. It was hard to spot them because their colors blend in to their surroundings so well and it was nice to just stand an watch them for a few minutes.

As my feathered friends moved on it was time to get serious about catching a fish. I started to see signs of life as one by one I noticed trout cruising the shore. But, once again, the flies I was using were of no interest to the fish. All I could think was “Not again!” I have fished this lake about a half dozen times and have only caught one trout. I was hoping that today would bring at least my second but the morning was slowly slipping away without a tug on my line.

Then it finally happened. I double hauled my line out as far as I could and let my wooly bugger sink. As I was letting the line meander under the water, I was fidgeting with my waders or my line or something on my lanyard when I felt the tug. “Yahtzee!” As I got the slack out of the line and put some pressure on the fish, it felt like a decent sized trout. I was being extremely careful because I did not want this fish to get off the hook, but I also did not want to tire him out. A good 45 seconds went by and then I was finally able to get him in the net. And boy was he a pig! Not the biggest I have seen come out of these lakes but a nice fat one nonetheless. The fish must have known that the snow is coming and were gorging themselves on food to get fat for the winter freeze.

I fished for another couple of hours, saw a lot more fish swimming all over the place, but nothing else would be in my net on this day. I packed up and started to head down the trail. I passed a handful of hikers on their way up and each one of them commented on the fact that I was already heading back and it was only noon. I told them that the early fisherman gets his fish, then heads back for a nice afternoon nap. And that is exactly what I did.

Jon

Here’s the video I put together from our Golden Trout trip. Enjoy!

Originally posted @ Orvis.

This is the original piece that I wrote for Orvis. Check out the edited version at the link above.

For the past eight years I have been hiking in to some of the most remote high mountain lakes in Colorado. I am not saying that I’m a snob and I thumb my nose up at the beautiful rivers we have here, but it is nice to get a little bit of exercise. It is also nice to get away from the crowds that frequent the Gold Medal fisheries that we are lucky enough to have here in Colorado. The dilemma I have faced since moving here eight years ago is whether or not to hike in waders. My answer up until this year was to leave the waders at home. That is until I received my Sonicseam waders.

Never thinking waders could be so durable and light, I packed them in for my first high altitude climb of the 2011 season and they haven’t left my pack since! I have really been missing out all of these years and probably could have been catching more fish if I had these waders sooner. One trip in particular this year was the ultimate test for these waders and my stamina when I packed them in along with 50 lbs. of everything else.

I planned the trip for earlier this year and three of my buddies were dumb enough to come along – Rick, Mike, and Ryan. This trip was different than any of us could ever imagine, and harder than we could possibly make up. We were going in search of Golden Trout. Some may know that the golden trout is native to California (their state fish), and also stocked in Wyoming. What you may not know is that the golden trout was also stocked in Colorado back in the 70’s and 80’s. Since then biologists have thought that the golden was unable to reproduce in the high mountain lakes they were stocked in and so it is thought they had become extinct decades ago. We didn’t believe them.

Going on a tip from a biologist friend and a hunch that we might be lucky enough to stumble upon these fish, we set out for a five day, 30 mile trek in to the wilderness. Since portions of the hike were off trail, we had to bushwack over deadfall and boulder fields to reach our destination. The first day took us nine hours and totaled fourteen miles. Needless to say, I was happy to get my 52 lbs. off my back and set up camp.

The following day we set out to fish a couple of lakes that we hoped were not barren. After putting on the waders and hiking through the brush and boulders, we waded into and fished two lakes for a solid five hours. The only bite I got on the end of my Helios was an eight-inch salamander. Chalk that up as a first! Anyone else ever catch a salamander on an Orvis rod before?

After we headed back to camp for lunch, a little dejected, Rick decided to take a walk downstream and follow a creek that isn’t on any maps.  Halfway into my sandwich I heard Rick stumbling and bumbling back up to camp.  The only thing he could get out was “I FOUND THEM!” Now at this point everything gets a little blurry but we all grabbed our rods and ran downstream. I probably should have been a bit more careful but I can tell you that the sonicseam waders held up without incident as I hurled myself over trees, branches and sharp objects that should have pierced the sides of my legs.

So as they say, we struck gold. It was quite unbelievable and so surreal that I feel like it was all a dream. But we made it there and back, 30 total miles and 6,000 vertical feet. It was a trip that we will never forget, and it just may be a trip that goes down in the record books.

Jon

3 species, 2 pics, 1 video

Labor Day weekend. A great holiday because you get a day off of work, a paid day off of work. Bad holiday because too many people are traveling. I thought, for a split second, that I would try and do one last hiking/fishing trip up in the mountains but decided against it because I have had first hand experience in the past of how the driving would be on this busy weekend. Instead I decided to stay put and hang low, only to go fishing for a few hours up the road at my infamous in-town fishing hole. And boy did it pay off!

I don’t think I have ever gotten more than two species of fish in one day. If I have it must not have been a big deal because I do not remember. I have gotten multiple species over a multi-day trip, but never in the same day. So this, I believe, is a first for me.

I headed up the road around 4:30 in the afternoon. Having my perfect 3 wt. setup already, I hit the water as soon as I parked the car. Soon after that, I started bringing in the fish. Two in the first hole, my first two casts. One in the second hole, my second cast. Three in the third hole, casts number two, four, and six. This would be an amazing start, if the fish were what I was after and if they weren’t all of 4” long. The fish I was catching were creek chub. Definitely not that exciting but I was still getting some action. I then came to the hole where I had previous caught a 20” brown trout and my hopes were high. Only to be dashed again by yet another chub. This had to have been my 16th or 17th creek chub that I hooked, it was getting to be too much. And then it happened, the line tightened and the rod bent, I had a “real” fish on this time. I got him in and indeed it was a very nice brown, around eight inches. I reached for the camera and of course he slipped out of my hand and was off to be caught another day.

I didn’t really mind not getting the shot, it was only the first hour of fishing and I was having a nice peaceful time fishing in town and I assumed I would get another chance at a brown. I assumed wrong.

I fished for another hour and a half and decided to head in the direction of the car and fish my favorite hole one more time. The sun was getting low in the sky but I didn’t really need to see that well, I knew where to cast and what to do. Another half hour goes by however, and not a fish was brought to hand. Then it happened, fish on! I could tell it was decent because the rod was bent and she wasn’t coming up. When she did come up, I could tell it wasn’t what I was after. It was another creek chub, but this time she had some size to her. Maybe 12” or so, the largest I have ever caught. Then I noticed something strange, another fish behind the chub. I thought at first it was just a fish coming up to see what all the commotion was about, but after a second I realized the second fish was hooked to my second fly! I was fishing a two nymph rig and caught two fish on the same line! Two different species of fish, on the same line!

 

 

 

 

Didn’t expect that did ya? Well neither did I! It just goes to show, no matter where or when you go fishing, you never know what to expect.

 

 

-Warning-
Vulgar language in this one, sorry to all the youngins and my parents.

Jon