Colorado 2020, days 6 & 7

As mentioned previously, on day 5 we fished for a little while on our way west toward Durango to see our Friends Jacob and Jillian. Jillian is my bag lady - she makes my rod bags. Jacob is a bamboo rod maker and fishing guide. They moved from western NC to southwestern CO a few years ago. I hadn’t seen them since they moved from NC a few years back and thankfully they were just as I last saw them but even more quirky and wonderful than before. Must be that Colorado living. To be honest, being that this portion of the CO2020 trip was 4 months ago and I’m about to round the corner on another year the memory is a bit foggy. But rest assured this portion of the trip was no less enjoyable than the others. I’ll try to recapture as much as I can remember…

Immediately upon arriving and unpacking a few things we start talking about what the next couple days will look like and I loved the sounds of it. They planned to take us to a couple special streams as long as conditions were right. Water had been low but still fishable recently. Jacob is a full time guide over there so he’s up on conditions and who’s been fishing where - it’s always great to have local insight when on a DIY trip like this.

Day 6 was slated to be a brookie and cutthroat day on a really beautiful creek that had a totally different character than any of the other spots we’d fished so far. A little bit bigger and more open but with plenty of tree cover and rocks to crawl over. In a lot of places we could fish two people side by side and we caught some very nice wild brookies along with incredible and decent sized cutthroat. We saw a few pairs of brook trout doing the spawning dance. This one pair near the tail out of a long and beautiful riffle distracted us for quite some time. Sometimes fishing isn’t about just fishing. Jacob fished one of his 8’ bamboo rods. Dave fished with my new 7’ 3wt prototype and I took both the 62-3 and 64-4 along to play with. Stimulators, foam ants and Adams style flies were mainly on the menu as well as a few small nymphs dropped behind the floaters. Some smaller pools where the fish were stacked up feeding at a plunge provided much of the entertainment but even though spooky the fish were where they ought to be. It was a lot of fun to catch cutthroat after brookie after cutthroat in the same sections. Fish were always where they were supposed to be too. It was an extremely satisfying, fun, and slow moving day on the water where everything seemed to go right. And, if I remember right, these were the San Juan strain of cutthroat trout which were thought to be extinct up til recently. YEAH BABY.

Unfortunately Jillian needed to stay behind to work on rod bags but she promised us that she would go on day 7. We ate bbq chicken wings and a kale salad for dinner and it was so nice to eat food in a kitchen with friends. I had been craving salads and this one was super tasty. Sorry, no pictures of the food.

Day 7. The whole gang was together. We planned to fish a special creek that J&J visit every so often and reserved for blind folded out of towners with their GPS turned off. The creek held some amazing views as well as fish. It was similar to the creek from the day before although a little smaller and a bit more geographic variety. Also San Juan strain cutthroats, if I remember correctly. The day’s location promised some amazing and unique cutthroat fishing. And it was amazing in many ways. Though it was one of those days that held a sort of funk over one of us. That certain angler couldn’t seem to spot a fish or set the hook at the right time. At one point everyone, except this one certain angler, saw a really nice trout rise to their fly, take it and go down all the while they had no idea what as going on except that everyone else was yelling at them to set the hook, which by the time that angler did set the hook it was too late. Then that certain angler had a temper tantrum and stormed up the creek to process and cool off. This was one of those solid funks that carried through the entire day. Beginning to end with no real explanation. If there was a twig to lose a fly on, I found it. If there was a slippery rock. Wham, spread eagle all over it. The water was that kind of cold that takes your breath away when it hits your chest and your other places. I honestly had no idea what was going on, it was like a funky little twilight zone and I wasn’t fully operational. With an enthusiastic crew of friends ‘encouraging you to ‘see’ the fish and ‘set the hook’ and the whole ‘what the —— is wrong with you!?’ echoing in the background to encourage you along the way only solidified that something was off. If fishing alone, you don’t reap the benefits of community. That’s okay though. Everyone caught fish that day. The fish were spectacular and the scenery was the best yet with lush blue/green plunge pools, cascades and falls. On my very last cast near where we walked in, in hopes of redeeming the day by washing off the funk I cast to a dished out shadow in the current that guaranteed the last fish of the day. Little did I know there was also a well camouflaged stick that quickly nabbed my little foam ant and sliced the tippet when I tried too late to correct my cast. Dave was looking down from the trail and tried hard not to laugh, averted his eyes and walked on. Stella gave me a little nudge as if to say, ‘it’s time to go, it’ll be ok.’ I laughed it off and walked out toward the car fighting off the thought that I had nagging in the back of my mind that wondered why I even bothered to continue fishing that day. As promised it really was an amazing day. And that’s just part of fishing, seeing the whole for what it is worth. It’s not all about catching a spectacular fish, though that helps, it’s both the humbling times and victories keep you coming back. The beers and burgers that night were particularly tasty and I slept really well on that hard living room floor. Yet another incredible day.

Days 8 & 9 coming soon. They’re good ones too so I’ll be sure to not forget.

Yay fishing!