I had a moment of panic this week when I realized, a) I haven’t been fly fishing in Colorado for four years and, b) I committed myself to getting out there this Fall, and my calendar is filling up with non-fishing activities. My panic was exascerbated by the joy I’m having reading John Gierach’s latest book on fly fishing in – you guessed it – Colorado. With trembling hands, I frantically opened my Colorado map and pulled up the Colorado Department of Wildlife website.
My goal is the area around Vail. I found a few sites where I can camp, because camping for me is part of the gig, but there are a few challenges. First, the only weekend I have open between now and Thanksgiving is a bit later than I originally wanted. Looking at average low temperatures for that week, 25 degrees F, I made a note to get a new sleeping bag that will allow me to truly sleep in the chill. Second, in an effort to avoid crowds, I’m looking at skinny water which will require me to cast accurately if I’m earnest about actually catching trout. It’s time to get into the back yard and work on tightening my casting loop. Oh, and the truck needs a tune-up. I really want to make the trip happen this year. The excitement is palpable.
There’s nothing like the bite of even a small trout on a dry fly. Or morning coffee in the dark amid the aspens, 5,000 feet above sea level. And eating the sandwich you made after breakfast while sitting on the bank at noon, planning strategy for the afternoon. And zipping up the tent at the end of the day, having made a spartan dinner by the fire, knowing you get to pull on the waders again in the morning. It makes climbing into the sleeping bag, opening a book, and giving up after ten minutes in bone-deep fatigue, worth hauling my aging butt out to Colorado with hopes for a single fish on the fire.
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