Black Canyon of the Gunnison and West Tomichi River Park

Day 2 of my trip to Gunnison Colorado involved my father in law, Mark, and I visiting a couple of spots that contrasted one another greatly.  Our first stop was Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.  We went there for the opportunity to drive down to the river and do some fishing but we stayed for the scenic views.  Unfortunately, I wasn't able to wet a line at any point due to a series of landslides that had made the road to the river impassible.  While I was a little bummed about not being able to fish, I came away from the park with the belief that this Canyon is one of the most beautiful locations I have ever visiting.

If you ever get a chance to visit this park, there are a large number of spots to visit.  The visitor center is a great place to start.  It is full of interesting information and points out notable locations.  Along the scenic drive that takes you around the south rim of the canyon there are places to park and short trails to hike.  The trails lead to spots that overlook the canyon and provide stunning views of rock formations and the Gunnison River at the bottom of the canyon.  The hikes are easy but if you're scared of heights, you might notice a rise in your pulse.

As we left the park, I started looking for another spot to fish.  My wife, Wendy, and my mother in law, Sharon, were due to arrive in the early afternoon so I knew I needed to pick a spot near the airport in Gunnison, Colorado.  I didn't have high hopes about the fishing because I felt like I would be hitting a lull in the day but we didn't seem to have anything else better to do.  So when I stumbled on a small park that was on the bank of the Gunnison River in the city of Gunnison and located very close to the airport in Gunnison, it seemed like an obvious choice.

When we pulled up to the parking lot, we were the only vehicle at the park.  By the time I got my waders on and fly rod rigged up, the parking lot was almost at capacity.  When I was finally ready to start making casts, rafts were drifting by, families were splashing in the shallows, and other anglers had started fishing.  While the situation seemed to look increasingly more difficult to fish, I was determined to at least make a few casts and hoping to catch one single fish.

I started off throwing a couple of small flies under an indicator but quickly found that I needed to make a couple of changes.  I was fishing right where boat traffic was passing through and my backcasts were getting close to families that were sitting on the bank.  I decided to tie on a soft hackle and move further downstream where the river widened and became less populated.  The reason that I settled on the soft hackle was because the water was fairly swift and reminded me of the a situation that I had experienced with my former basketball coach, Jeff Tebbencamp.  

One day on the White River near Cotter, Arkansas, coach taught me how to swing a soft hackle.  It was unlike any fly fishing I had ever done at that time. It took me a little while to recognize the bites and how to properly set the hook, but eventually I picked up the technique.  I then used the same technique at Bennett Spring State Park to catch trout which gave me the confidence boost I needed.  So as I stood in the Gunnison, looking at the soft hackle I tied on, I thought to myself, "Well coach, let's see if I can make you proud."

It is important to note that this was an idea that did not come from anywhere else.  I'm not being arrogant or trying to boast.  It's just important to the story.  Fly shops never mentioned swinging a soft hackle.  AI didn't suggest it.  Internet research never recommended it.  It just felt like it might work.  Don't get me wrong.  I had tried other things that this was just another dart that I was throwing at the dart board and hoping for a bullseye.  When a fish hit my fly so hard on a dangle on my fifth case, I just about came unglued.  There was no need for a hook set and the fish was properly buttoned.  I landed that fish with a smile as big as the Rocky Mountains and while joy filled my heart, my brain turned quickly to my basketball coach.  That fish would not have been caught on unfamiliar water, in the middle of the day, in a river full of fly fishing rafts and families splashing around in the water if it hadn't been for him.  

I made a few more casts in that spot and after not getting any bites, I decided to move downstream where there was similar water and fewer people.  I landed two more fish and I was a variety of emotions rushed through my mind like the riffles I was fishing.  None of them were big fish by any standard.  However, they were all brown trout and I cherished their beauty as long as I could before successfully releasing each fish.  I think brown trout are the most beautiful freshwater fish in the world (feel free to disagree with me like my dad does) and I see every single one as a gift that I get to borrow for a few seconds.

Eventually it was time to head back to the truck and go pick up the ladies which would make our group whole.  As we waited for the flight to arrive and the women to deplane, I thought about the beauty that I had witnessed since I woke up.  The canyon, the mountains, the river, and the fish all got tattooed on my brain and I hope the ink never fades.  People find beauty in a lot of places.  For some, it is a New York City skyline at night.  For others, it is graphics in a video game.  Some folks find it in their imagination while creating the mental images that are inspired by a book.  For me, the most beautiful things (not people, you will always be #1 if you're reading this Wendy) that I have ever seen in my life come from nature.  The sights and experiences of that day were beautiful in the truest sense of the word...and my trip to Colorado wasn't even half way over!

Fishing The Hog Trough on Taylor River and Hiking Pine Creek Trail

Recently, I returned from a trip to Colorado where I got to spend some time fishing among other things.  While I have fished in some numerous parts of Wyoming, I had only fished the Big Thompson in Estes Park and a lake in Rocky Mountain National Park near Estes Park.  My experience was minimal but not anymore.  

I won't bore you with all of the details of our trip, and instead just focus on the fishing.  The first leg of our trip was spent in Gunnison, Colorado.  My father in law and I drove out on Thursday, July 16 and we stayed at a VRBO that was right on the Gunnison River.  My wife and mother in law flew in on Saturday, July 18, so for a couple of days my father in law, Mark, to do whatever we wanted.  So after a nice breakfast at the W Cafe on Friday, July 19, we started exploring.  

He had heard about a place called The Hog Trough which was a catch and release section of the Taylor River and the name certainly got my attention.  After picking up some flies at Willowfly Anglers which is a part of Three Rivers Resort.  The folks I spoke to were really helpful but also cautiously optimistic.  They said that while the section I was headed to was full of big, beautiful fish, they were also hard to fool. 

When I arrived, I found out how right they were.  There were brown trout everywhere you looked with a few rainbows sprinkled in as well.  It was a little crowded but not like a Missouri Trout Park so that didn't bother me.  After fishing for almost an hour and only getting a few fish to sniff my flies, things changed.  Clouds rolled in, the temperature dropped, and sprinkles started to fall.  I noticed the fish were becoming much more active which gave me hope and optimism.

What I'm going to tell you next might seem like blasphemy to some, but I stand by my decision.  I put all of the size 22 nymphs away that I had recently bought and tied on what I would call, "A Missouri Trout Park Special".  The reason is two fold.  One, I actually had success on the Big Thompson with flies that work on trout at Missouri Trout Parks.  Second, I had confidence in this fly.  I find that confidence in a fly or fishing lure is extremely important and I had faith in my fly.  In case you are wondering, the fly I am referring to is just a 1/80 ounce jig with a thread body.

What happened next was beyond my wildest dreams.  I was hoping to just land one fish and I didn't care about the species or size.  I ended up missing two fish, losing one, and landing two absolutely beautiful brown trout.  After the rain stopped and clouds moved off, things went back to being slow and we headed to the next spot.

Our next destination was a place called Pine Creek Trail.  A very nice gentleman that I met on the water told me about it.  He said that at the bottom of the 232 step trail was a section of the Gunnison that was fed by a dam that held back a reservoir.  This sounded like my kind of spot and I was willing to put in the steps for smaller crowds and better fishing.

To make a long story short, the hike was nice and the scenery was beautiful but the water was not conducive to fishing.  It was fast, deep, and wide.  I actually ran into a guy that suggested I go talk to a fishing guide that was down the path.  That got my attention because I was hoping to get some good fishing advice.  Oddly enough, the guy I that told me about the guide, I later found out was the wide receivers coach for the Denver Broncos.  I thought that was interesting but was more focused on the guide.

The fella I met was a really nice guy named Kyle.  He is a part time fishing guide and had all kinds of information to share with me.  As I started to look over his rig though, I could tell that I was grossly outgunned for this section of the river his 24 foot (I'm guessing but it was big) pontoon that was equipped with heavy spinning tackle and down riggers communicated to me that fly fishing from the bank was going to be a lesson in futility.  I still fished a jig with a scud dropper and did the best I could but ended up getting skunked.

In all, it was a great day.  I caught some browns (the most beautiful freshwater fish in my opinion) on new water that was tricky.  I hiked down into a canyon and got to learn a lot more about the area from a nice guy.  Mark was extremely accommodating in terms of taking me where I wanted to go and his encouragement was genuine which made me feel supported in my endeavors.   There is more information to come in regards to my trip, but this was a great start to fly fishing some spots that were new to me in Colorado!

My Cabin Was Broken Into and I Was Robbed but There is More to the Story!

Disclaimer: I spent a lot of time debating whether to post this story or not.  I didn't want this post to appear that I was looking for sympathy or donations because I am not.  On the other hand, I started this blog to share my stories and experiences.  Ultimately, I decided to share this post because there ended up being more information than just a break-in and to hopefully find the positive in a negative situation.

I have a small hunting and fishing cabin that sits on a piece of property that was owned by my great grandfather.  It's nothing fancy and I don't spend as much time there as I used to, but it is still a special place to me.  I've taken friends and family there for hunting and fishing trips and it has served me well for over 14 years.  Thanks to the good folks at Premier Barns, I have never had a mouse, a snake, or any structural problems because it was built so well.  Unfortunately, while I was on vacation in Colorado, I had my first problem with the cabin.

Last Friday, someone or some people broke into my cabin.  They ripped off a shutter (installed for both security and to protect from hail), destroyed an exterior lock, and pried open the front door.  Thankfully, my cousin, who lives nearby, was notified of the incident and filed a police report for me.  He also gave me a call and gave me as much information as he could.  I am so grateful for his efforts and thoughtfulness.  I'm lucky to have him as a cousin.

I spent a big chunk of the rest of my vacation thinking about the who, what, and why in regards to the break-in.  I knew that some of my questions would never be answered, but I might be able to make some sense of the incident when I was able to see everything with my own eyes.  I arrived home last Sunday and was at the cabin bright and early on Monday.  Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I expected.  Yes, a window needed to be replaced but thankfully the front door still latched.  I put some plastic over the window and then started to take inventory of what was missing.  This provided some answers but also brought up more questions.

What surprised me most was what was NOT missing.  There was a number of things that held value that had not been stolen.  My boat (now at my home), trolling motor (also at home now), and wood burning stove had not been touched.  Instead, I was missing an ax, a spinning rod, and my grandpa's tackle box.  I was also missing a tool box, some tools from a caddy, and an army ammunition box.  The box contained steak knives, paper plates, paper towels, and other basic eating utensils.  At some point, I put the puzzle pieces together that these weren't items of monetary value.  They were items to meet basic needs and make life more more comfortable.

Just as I was about ready to head home, my cousin stopped by and that's when I felt like we MIGHT have cracked the case.  He informed me that a friend of his had found a homeless camp in the middle of a CRP field not too far away.  It was abandoned but showed obvious signs of recent activity.  It hit me like a freight train.  This activity didn't seem to be some bored kids looking to be mischievous.  It didn't seem to be adults looking to acquire some items to pawn.  It appeared to be some folks that were looking to make life easier and more comfortable.

Don't get me wrong, that realization didn't make me feel tremendously better.  What it did provide was some sort of pseudo closure.  It provided me an answer to the biggest question that I had: why?  Of course, I could be wrong about everything but it is at least a hypothesis that I can lean on.  

While I didn't want my cabin broken into, I do take some sort of solace in the fact that the items, which I rarely used and didn't really need, went to someone or some people that might get more use out of them than me.  I wish that I could have just met them face to face to hand over the items, but life doesn't always give you what you want.  I was mad at he/she/them for breaking a window, damaging my door, and for the cost of repairing the window because the ends don't justify the means.  On my way home however, I knew that I had to let my anger go.

There must have been some desperation to do what he/she/they did and for that, I am sympathetic.  They must have needed what I had more than I did, and I am not missing anything that was extremely important to me.  Nobody was hurt.  Nobody died.  Repairs have already been made and life has moved on.  I started to see the positive in the negative as well.

It took some time but I have forgiven the person/people.  I was raised in a Christian church that shared the teachings of Jesus.  One of the biggest elements of the Christian religion is forgiveness.  For me to not forgive those that have wronged me in some way, feels like turning a blind eye to what I have been taught and what I believe.  I'm not trying to alienate people that believe differently and I'm not trying to be preachy.  I'm just sharing my perspective.  

In addition, I am happy to announce that the window was fixed on Tuesday evening (less than 36 hours later after my request) by the good folks at Premier Barns. I have never fixed or replaced a window before so it felt appropriate to have the folks that built the cabin  to complete the repairs.  What I ended up learning was that the gentleman that replaced the window was one of the fellas that built the cabin.  When I bought the cabin, a father was running the business side of the small company and two brothers were building the structures.  Since then, two more brothers have started working for the company with the oldest brother taking over the business operations.  The oldest brother, who must have helped build my cabin, was the one that repaired my window because the other brothers were so busy!

Life is a roller coaster.  There are highs and lows.  There were highs that I experienced on my vacation (which I will share next week) and I cam home to a low.  Life isn't fair.  It can be a mean place that can beat you down.  Like Rocky Balboa once said, "But it ain’t how hard you hit; it’s about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward."  Sturgill Simpson once said, "Life ain't fair and the world is mean."  The Lord's Prayer states, "Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors."  In the end, a bad thing happened but it could have been worse.  Life moves on and dwelling in the past is not helpful or healthy.  Like Joe Dirt once said, "You gotta keep on keepin' on. Life's a garden, dig it!"

HUGE Custom Order

 

I am a part time fly tyer.  I have no aspirations to become a full time, commercial fly tyer.  I have just enough work to keep me tying flies which helps me both keep my skills sharp and learn more skills in the process.  I'm happy with running my online fly shop, helping others catch fish, and making a little money in the process.  The ladies at the post office know me by name and that feels cool.  Sometimes I get pictures of people holding fish on flies that I tied and that's pretty rewarding.  I take custom orders from time to time and those are usually pretty good pay days.  In June of this year though, I was approached by a good friend and asked if I could complete an enormous order.

The guy actually wanted a bigger order than I felt comfortable accepting.  I was able to talk him into placing a smaller order that I thought was less overwhelming.  What I agreed to was still overwhelming but less.  We settled on 20 assortments that would include 6 streamers and in a box with my logo on it.  He told me not to charge him less because of friendship but not to charge him too much either.  He said, "Just charge me whatever you would charge a stranger."  He requested 2 game changers, 2 lunch moneys, and then two more streamers of my choosing.  After we agreed on all of the details, I immediately got to work.

While I had a month and a half to complete the order, I also knew I was going to be out of town towards the end of July and didn't want to procrastinate.  In all honesty, I wanted to get it done early with the hope of impressing him a little bit.  I tied as many flies with the materials that I had on hand, then I ordered some more materials.  Then I tied some flies.  Then I ordered more.  Then I tied some flies.  Then I ordered boxes.  Then I tied some flies.

While I did enjoy the work, it was still work.  Members of my family laughed when I called it work.  They said things like, "That's not work.  You're doing what you like."  They said things like, "It's not work if you decide when and how much you work."  I also heard, "Tying flies isn't work."  My response to those claims was, "If you tied, trimmed, and glued eyes on 40 game changers, you would learn really quick that tying flies is work."  By the time I was done with the order, I had a bruise on my right pointer finger from the scissors I used, my shoulders were sore from leaning forward, and my cheeks were sore from smiling so much.  I got the order done and would do it again if asked.  After getting the flies in their boxes, I turned my attention to completing some side missions that I had considered completing if I got the order done early.

Fishing with My Buddy Jake!

If you follow this blog, you know I like taking folks fishing.  What I like even more, is taking folks fishing that I don't get to fish with very often.  My buddy Jake is one of those people.  He's a good dude that comes from a great family.  In fact, his family bred a couple of German Shorthair Pointers, one of which was named Waylon who ended up becoming a member of our family.  I only bring that up to show that our families appreciate one another.  Like I stated, Jake is fun to be around and we have a lot of fun sharing a boat.  

The last time that Jake and I got to fish together was two years ago and it was a memorable one.  We trolled tandem streamer rigs for hybrid striper.  Not only did we catch some fish, Jake ended up catching two hybrids at the same time.  Since then, I have gotten a little better at catching these fish and I was hoping to give him another memorable experience.

As fate would have it, this trip was just as good.  We targeted hybrid stripers with chicken livers and then got the fly rods out to catch some bluegill, redear, and small bass.  The hybrid fishing started off with a bang!  I caught the first fish and it was the biggest hybrid striper that I have ever caught on chicken livers.  I was starting to think that the chicken liver strategy only worked on smaller fish because that's all that I had caught so far. Catching a 20+ inch hybrid was a great indicator that bigger hybrids will eat chicken livers as well.  

After catching the big hybrid, we picked up a lot in the 10-16 inch range.  It was a little slow but we managed to put a hybrid in the boat from time to time.  It was the kind of fishing that was just good enough to keep your interest but wasn't good enough to be called great.  Those are MY standards, but then again, I spend a lot more time on the water than Jake does.  To Jake, the fishing was amazing.  He told me that he usually struggled on fishing the lake we were on (Watkins Mill State Park).  It made me feel pretty darn good that he was happy and having fun.

Before we had to call it quits for the day, I wanted to help him catch some fish on a fly.  We rigged up a 3 weight with a 1/80 ounce jig and a strike indicator for him and I threw a streamer on a seven weight.  I figured he would put up some gaudy numbers on his setup and I was looking for one good take on my Low Fat Minnow.  Jake did indeed get into some fish but I think it was too late in the day for a streamer.  Again, Jake was happy to catch a mess of bluegill but one more surprise lay ahead.  Out of nowhere, Jake hooked into a redear.  I say "out of nowhere" because we hadn't caught one yet.  Jake had never caught a redear before and this one was a pretty one.

I'm lucky to have time off in the summer (I'm a teacher) and I'm blessed to have a boat.  I am grateful to have had a lot of very kind people pass along fishing techniques and effective fly patterns among other things.  I feel like it is my responsibility and duty to pass that knowledge along to others.  When others have success on the water because of what I've passed along, it's a darn good feeling.  

That feeling arose as we headed back to the boat ramp when Jake said to me, "This might be the best morning of fishing that I've ever had."  I was flattered and humbled at the same time.  Could Jake have learned what I learned on his own and found success without me?  I have no doubt he could have.  Did it feel good to help him and share some success with him in the process?  It felt so good that I can't wait to help the next person!