I picked up fly fishing about 4 years ago on a trip to Colorado with my wife’s family – her dad is a fly fisherman and it looked like a fun way to spend some time together, so I thought I would give it a try. I caught my first fish on a fly that trip – a brook trout about the size of my finger – but nevertheless I was “hooked” as they say and quickly became obsessed.
I haven’t had many opportunities to fish trout waters since then, but last summer we again went to the mountains so I decided to hire a guide for a day to try and level up my skills as much as possible – I told him I didn’t care if I only caught one fish, I just wanted to get better. It was worth every penny. Not only did things start “clicking” but I caught quite a few beautiful fish.
Fast forward to this summer and, once again, our trip to the mountains found me on a trout stream with my newfound confidence from the previous trip leaving me with visions of nets full of trophy trout, only to come up empty handed after three days, questioning everything I thought I knew and if fly fishing was even for me. One tiny brown on the next to last day basically saved my trip and my dignity, and a couple of dry fly eaters on a small creek on the way home left me looking forward to the next trip.
This past weekend I was fortunate to make a somewhat last minute trip to the San Juans with some buddies. Knowing I only had two days to fish and not much time to research, I found out what I could here (shout out to some helpful community members) and stopped in a local shop to get a little intel and a few flies.
Day 1 was on a pretty well known river just south of town. Based on what I had read, it could be somewhat technical and challenging, so my expectations were tempered, but I set off with the double nymph rig and a positive attitude. I probably didn’t make it a half a mile up the river and had caught 10+ smaller rainbows, then spent an inordinate amount of time trying to catch one of probably 15 larger fish I saw in a deeper pool, actively feeding on emergers but in a really tricky section to drift. The day ended with a bit of frustration but overall some renewed confidence in my abilities.
Day 2 I planned on getting up into the mountains somewhere and found myself on a pretty desolate stream despite the near constant traffic of trucks and side by sides on the road in. A short hike down and some bushwhacking across the meadow and I was looking at some crystal clear water with a healthy population of very skittish cutthroat. The wind was up, the brush was high, and if the fish didn’t see me before I saw them and darted to cover, then they certainly took off after I hung my fly in the brush and had to get it untangled. I recognized that these conditions were difficult for almost anyone and tried to cut myself some slack and stick with it. I tried a couple of different dry flies and got some refusals, so I decided to tie on the hopper dropper rig and see where it got me. A couple of moments later I watched a decent size (by my standards) cutthroat chase down and gulp the hopper, and I was just praying I could get it to the net. That is probably the fish I’m most proud of catching up to this point, as it was definitely hard earned.
Anyway, wall of text I know, but I just wanted to share a little bit of my journey as a fly fisherman, and encourage anyone out there who might be struggling with putting it all together to stick with it. There are easier ways to catch fish, sure, but it is really rewarding when you find fish and catch them on your own. Thanks to all the folks here who share their knowledge, experience, and photos/stories that keep the stoke going for the rest of us!
Posted by tbomb06