First of all, my daughter Maia and her beau Johnny arrived on Saturday. They drove straight through from Denver in about 12 hours and were pretty tired. We all decided to get up early on Sunday, eat a quick breakfast and go fishing. My first real chance to go fly fishing. Yea!!
Maia, Johnny and Butch.
So even though they have only been fly fishing since May, they are very well equipped and seem to know their stuff. They even had a number of flies that they tied themselves (and continue to tie during their stay.) and Johnny had an extra pair of waders that sort of fit me - the feet were a little small - so I could do the stream wading thing with them. Marie was going to come with us, read a book and watch Zoe and Butch, Maia's little dog. We got all packed up and headed out for a day of fishing.
Butch with his fishing pack.
Maia and Johnny staging for the trip.
We headed out of the lake area about 10 miles to Red Rock Stream, an area that had been recommended. It took me a while to gear up. Getting fishing line through tiny fly hook holes is tricky. You almost need a magnifying glass. Maia and Johnny are off fishing the creek and I am up at the car for what seemed like an hour trying to get my act together. What a novice!
Meanwhile Marie decided that there was really no place for her to set up so she left in one of the cars and took Butch and Zoe back to the resort.
So, finally I got all rigged up, got my feet into the undersized (for me) neoprene feet of the waders and headed down to the stream. Maia and Johnny had already caught fish. I am trying to maneuver through the muddy bottom water to find a place to cast my fly. Finally got it going.
At first I was casting too long a line and whipping the flies right off my line. Plus I was tying the flies on the line wrong which all resulted in my losing about half a dozen flies and having to spend more time tying flies onto the leader. ACHH!!
Finally figured it out, mostly and was able to actually start fishing. I see why people love this sport. There is a lot of knowledge that one needs to be good, so it is almost more of an art than a sport. Then the almost Zen feeling of being alone with one's thoughts and with all the sounds and inhabitants of nature is quite overwhelming. Then when you actually catch a fish...OH YEAH I caught a fish! A 10 inch (okay, not exactly a whopper) cutthroat trout who proceeded to swim around some logs and get himself free. Oh well, I was going to let him go anyway...
Hopefully the first of many to come.
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