It was 7:00 a.m. in early September, and I was dressed for the ski slopes.
Our Orvis fly fishing guide, Kenny, took the misty 39-degree weather in stride as we followed him through the tall late-summer grass towards the South Platte River near Deckers, Colorado. I couldn’t help but question why I had agreed to go along with my husband on this expedition. Or why I hadn’t booked it in August.
As the mist cleared, it revealed a sauntering stream devoid of but one other person of interest. The person of interest, in this case, is not one associated with criminal behavior but another angler who is close by. Fly fishing etiquette dictates “first come, first serve,” and keeping a respectable distance is the golden rule.
And just then, a family of deer crossed the river.
It was time for us to “suit up.”
As part of our guided tour, we were supplied with waders, boots, and the all-important regulation wading belt that would keep us afloat should we inadvertently fall into the water and were carried downstream like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day float. The belt also had its own attached koozie cup holder, so you could take a drink while waiting to be rescued downstream. However, Kenny advised us that the river was flowing at a slow rate, so the likelihood of that happening was nil.
Bugs in the morning, bugs in the evening, bugs at suppertime…
The river became our classroom for the next 30 minutes as Kenny introduced us to the science of fly fishing, and I began to think this sport was more entomology than ichthyology. Apparently, trout only feed on what is hatching, and it changes throughout the day. Also, the precision in which the “bait” or “flies” are tied requires a good pair of reading glasses (more on that later) and an abundance of patience and knowledge. I was short on both and anxious to catch a fish. But first, casting 101.
What appears to be a singular, fluid movement is far more complicated. Good fly casting has nothing to do with strength—it’s all about timing and positioning, placing women at the forefront of natural proficiency. Unfortunately, I did not fall in that category. Kenny pointed out that my technique was akin to Brad Pitt’s in the “River Runs Through It,”–all lunge and no finesse. I closed my eyes and pictured Pitt without a fly rod. That seemed to help.
Don’t leave fish to find fish
We spent the first half of the morning wet nymph casting without much luck. Our fearless guide took it all in stride, biding us to stay put. As the weather warmed and the sky turned Colorado blue, I could see why so many anglers stand for hours mid-stream without ever catching a fish. It is the purest of Zen moments.
But new hatches were occurring, and we had to stay ahead of the fish. Kenny switched my wet fly to the caddis dry fly and thankfully took over my rod. And bingo–a strike! I found my rod back in my hands as I reeled in my prize—a beautiful rainbow trout. I was immediately surrounded by my personal river paparazzi (husband and guide), who ensured we had the proper poses for photos. And then I reluctantly released my first catch into the stream.
But, the fishing wasn’t quite over for the day. Soon after that, my husband snagged a brown trout, and our guide dropped his prescription glasses into the stream. Unfortunately, though I found a new sport to love, Kenny never found his glasses.
Several outfitters in the Pikes Peak Region offer clinics, lessons, and fully-guided tours at various lakes and rivers.
Colorado Springs • Anglers Covey • 295 S 21st St. Colorado Springs • (719) 471-2984 • AnglersCovey.com
Woodland Park • South Platte Fly Shop • 405 E. Highway 24 Woodland Park • (719) 686-8990 • SouthPlatteFlyShop.com
Cañon City • Royal Gorge Fly Shop • West U.S., 49311 W U.S. 50, Cañon City • (888) 994-6743 • RoyalGorgeAnglers.com
Pueblo • The Drift Fly Shop • 943 US-50, Pueblo • (719) 543-3900 • TheDriftFlyShop.com
