As some of you know, I have the (sense the sarcasm here) wonderful fortune of working at a ski resort in the winter time. Now what is so bad about that you might ask? Well, on the whole...it's a pretty good gig; especially as far as the industry that I work in goes. However...my other gig takes place in the summertime, in the river, with the trout. Enough said. And it's cold in the winter time at the ski resort and not very conducive to catching trout. Are you sensing my pain? So recently...when my heater went out, and then I tried to get it fixed, and the repair guy botched it, and then I went to the store at 5:00 a.m. to get a portable heater the next day, and then I plugged it in and it went kaplooey, and I immediately called the boss and told him I was sick. Yeah...sick of this $hit.
Not to mention Christmas stress. And Job stress.
So I said boss, I'm sick, I'll see you tomorrow. And what a coincidence...67 degrees in Denver. 67 minus 15 (or so) degrees to calculate Estes Park temperature. That = 52 degrees and that = > 32 degrees. That = Chris fishing today. That = Chris giving it back a little.
And oh my...it was so nice. I decided the minute I got there that if I didn't even catch a trout, I would be okay. It was just nice to be ditching class. Nothing beats that. So I realized quickly after showing up and downing my first Oatmeal Stout that I had the river to myself. Perfect for a food & beverage manager who needed a day away from people.
I rigged up a Hull's Mirage nymph and trailed a size 20 red zebra midge behind that. I was ready to throw some eggs and worms, even some sow bugs or baetis but the conditions never really called for it. Low flows, cold temps, and a ton of wind. I mean a lot of wind. I was happy to have my Hydrogen 5 weight Hydrogen which cast beautifully and cut through all but the strongest (roughly 60 mph) gusts. I set at about 4 feet deep as the flows were a meager 23 C.F.S. I started at the big bend across from the go kart course and worked my way up the straight away. Pretty slow going for the first 20 minutes or so. Being somewhat short on time (I didn't get up there til later in the day-calling in is good for sleeping in after you drink a celebration beer at 6:00 a.m.), I moved aggressively. I found myself above hole number 5 at a slick where I never have any luck. Once I moved in, I could feel it.
Sure enough, 3rd or 4th cast, a decent rainbow on the zebra. There was that feeling I sought out. Stress defeated. Life's Ass...kicked. After netting him and dealing with some more wind, I caught a slightly larger brown; bigger but not as healthy or pretty. Having felt that I had succeeded, I headed for the truck. I downed another Upslope and kept staring out at the section above the foot bridge. It just looked fishy.
I never fish that spot though. Took a couple clients in there before. Worked out alright, nothing special though. But as I drank and stared, I just couldn't help but think how fishy it looked. I was convinced. I pulled the rod out of the truck and went back out.
First cast, a real nice sized mouth came and hit my (hook-less) indicator. This ought to be real good I realized real quick. Next cast...I fell asleep and missed the most obvious bobbing (literally) on my indicator. I think I was amazed at the ease of the situation and forgot to set.
Not the next cast though. That cast yielded me a real nice, just colorful as could be 15" rainbow. Day complete. Success.
Ont he way home, I had an unbreakable smile and even let out a couple of yelp's of joy. More like screams but whatever.
Amazing what an hour and a half can do to change the 'tude. You know...if the boss would let me do that every week I would be a much more happy person. Have to work that into the next Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA). Until now...I'll just have to call in sick sometimes.
So I can come back well. Much more well.
Tight Lines
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