Being Decisively Defeated: Losing Battles to Big Fish on the South Platte River and Memories of Battles Lost on the Taylor

Rilke wrote a poem about a man watching an immense storm and suggests that there are some things in life that we are better off not challenging. Rilke suggests we can be petty in our attempt at controlling life.  He writes, “When we win it’s with small things and the triumph itself makes us small…What we choose to fight is so tiny. What fights with us is so great! If only we would let ourselves be dominated as things do by an immense storm we would become strong too.” He goes on to say, “Winning does not tempt that man. This is how he grows, by being defeated, decisively, by constantly greater beings” Rilke

I thought about this poem when I spotted a huge rainbow years ago. The big rainbow lay deep among two large submerged boulders on the Taylor River. Fish grow so large on the Taylor tail-water from feeding on Mysis Shrimp that is difficult for me to give a fair estimation of the fish’s size. As I made the cast, in my mind, I said to myself, “Over 32 inches and over 15 pounds.” And in looking back, I really do think the fish was every bit as big, perhaps even larger.

The first time I hooked this fish was on an RS2 nymph trailing behind a mysis shrimp on 4x fluorocarbon tippet. The fish shook his head several times as it twisted and arched out of the water falling down stream on the leader and breaking the tippet. The second time I survived the initial head shake and downstream leap. I fought the fish for several minutes before it suddenly seemed to say, “I have had enough of this game,” as it bolted across river and then back up stream along side a boulder breaking off again. There was nothing I could do.

Both times my line came back stripped of everything. My two flies were gone. Decisively defeated.

It is odd how when it comes to fishing we keenly remember the fish that get away. We remember being defeated. The fish and opportunities in life that get away from us seem to haunt us. As this poem suggests, perhaps we can grow from such “defeats”, if we handle them properly. I confess, I am not very good at growing from my defeats.

What interests me more though is the strange elation I can sometimes experience when I am decisively overpowered by a fish.  In contrast, I do not really remember very well the “victories” of those thousands of fish I have caught over the years. But rather it is those fish that defeat me and get away that I remember best and that stir something deep inside me.

I also thought about this poem  today  when after teaching a women’s fly fishing class on the South Platte, I spotted a  big rainbow. I made several casts before the big fish struck. The fish was hooked with the raising of the rod. Its’ powerful body contorted and twisted and then moments later the 5x leader severed.  

I stood on the bank with a stripped leader. I wondered if maybe it was a bad knot I had tied. Maybe there was a nick in the tippet or some wear and tear that did not allow the leader to endure the strain.  

Or maybe I was flat out defeated.

Yes, that was it!  I was decisively defeated! 

May there always be something bigger that lurks below the surface of the rivers I fish and below the surface of my heart that I know will always defeat me. Fishing in waters where I am not in control and often defeated has strangely and mysteriously become my greatest pleasure in fly fishing.   

(3) Trico Tricks/Techniques for the South Platte River: "STOP", Learning to Do Nothing Well

In my recent posts I have been offering some tricks to fishing the trico hatch on the South Platte River. I would like to offer another simple, small piece of advice.

Sometimes, while guiding and my client is casting away laying his trico dry  fly over fish I will politely say, “Stop, lets just watch .”  I will then ask the client to take the leader and fly in his hand and to simply observe. I ask the client to watch exactly where the fish are rising and try to figure out their feeding sequence. We try to observe the timing and the rhythm of their feeding. We watch the drift, speed and direction of the naturals and or the bubbles. And then after some observations, I will say, “Take a deep breath and plan your next cast. Think about where and when you want the fly to land,.” I may add, “Now make this cast count. Expect a rise.”

Over the years I have seen this little trick of taking a pause to be very effective. It stops us from “beating the water”. It helps us understand the flow of the section of river we are fishing and the feeding patterns of the fish. I have learned in life (and in fly fishing), that sometimes, we are better off doing nothing even though it is difficult to stop and do nothing well.  It is very difficult for us to simply stop and watch. Yet this little break can work wonders and once again is one of my most effective simple “tricks” for fooling very selective trout.  

(2) Trico Tricks: Using Peripheral Vision: Seeing the Big Picture

In my last post I briefly touched on the need for the fly fisher to rest the rising fish in a run for a few minutes by simply casting to other fish in the immediate area. This seems to be effective because it allows the fish to get back into their rhythm of feeding on the natural tricos. And so when you cast to the other fish and or come back to the original fish you can sometimes trick them into taking your artificial Trico by catching them "off guard". So, the short rest period allows the fish to eat natural after natural. I picture the fish almost thinking, "Yum, yum, yum;..... Yum, yum, yum", with each rise. By allowing  the fish to feed, you are sort of lulling it to sleep. The fish will slip out of that  hypersensitive state of awareness of possible danger from all your casting. 

I think one of the best ways to do this is to try to see the bigger picture while fishing. I  try to use my peripheral vision to pick up other  fish that are rising outside of the main run I might be fishing. Out of the corner of my eye, I might catch a glimpse of a surface disturbance upstream or downstream or across or somewhat behind me. I may even hear a gulp. I try to pay attention to these cues and cast to these other fish for a few minutes before going back to the main run.. 

Beginner fly fishers sometimes have a difficult time paying attention to the big picture as they can get so focused on a limited piece of water. I guess we could say it is quite easy to be “short sighted”.  It can be difficult to see the “other” fish in the area because one can be so focused on a few fish in one drift line. Try to remember even a seemingly “small” section of river is quite large and can hold many fish in all kinds of unlikely places.

Use all of your vision. Look around. Even while you have one eye on the drift of your trico try to have another eye looking around for other rising fish.  The river you are fishing, the world, and certainly life is all quite large. There are more fish than the immediate run you are fishing.

 I think of a line of poetry from William Blake, “If the windows of our perception were cleansed everything would appear as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern”.

Maybe it is similar to trying to “see” God looking through the narrow chinks of our caverns. It is far too limited and short-sighted.

(1.) Tricks For Fly Fishing the Trico Hatch On the South Platte River (Eleven Mile Canyon) Wait a Minute, Cast Somewhere Else

“I may be old and I may not be as strong, but I know many tricks”, said Santiago, the ‘old man’ who hooked the giant marlin in “The Old Man and the Sea”.

One of the most simplistic tricks, (but most effective and overlooked), while dry fly fishing the famous South Platte Trico Mayfly hatch is to simply cast somewhere else. I have watched fly fishers cast again and again over the same fish in the same exact drift line hoping the fish will eventually take the fly. I do know that determination and persistence will often pay off but I have found that if I simply take a few steps,  cast to a different fish and a different feeding lane that I sometimes pick up a fish right away. Or even if I do not pick up a fish by casting in a different spot I often will get a rise when I cast back to the original feeding lane. I call this “fishing in circles” and “resting the fish” or “finding a fish that wants to play”.   When I think about it logically this approach makes some sense. If I can turn around to cast to fish behind me or just somewhere else,  then  the original fish I was trying to catch will quickly began to set up and feed more heavily without me disturbing them. They quickly get in a rhythm of their own with out sensing me,  the fly fisher throwing line on top of them, poking them with hooks, etc. Even just resting fish for a minute or two allows them to gulp down hundreds of bugs unmolested. And then when I do come back to them and cast over them I find them more eager to take my fly. They are less wary having enjoyed eating hundreds of “real” bugs. When I am guiding others and we come back to the original run of fish, I will often say to my client, “Ok, they are off guard now, make your first cast count. Expect a rise on the first cast. Don’t tell the fish you are here again by making a bad cast”.  Over the last several days (and decades) I have given this advice to my clients and it has been effective.

I am not sure if there is some parallel that can be made to real life. Maybe it is as simple as knowing that when you find yourself doing the same thing over and over and it is not working, try something different. Or even if what you are doing is working, “examine” it, and try something new anyway. You might discover some new insight.

New Vitality On the South Platte River in Eleven Mile Canyon: Trout Rise As the Young of Heart Laugh

Vitality in individuals is of immeasurable value to our society. It means a lot to me. I am moved when I see it and crave it for my own life.

Today I took two dear friends fly fishing in Eleven Mile Canyon. While they were close to 60 years in age they giggled like 16 year old's as they hooked many beautiful trout.

Several years ago they married and have just recently moved from the east coast to Colorado. They refer to this new life as a “second life” or a “second chance”.

All morning they were in awe of the mountains, the flowing water, the sunlight, and the blue skies. Perhaps most of all they could never get over all the fish in the South Platte River feeding on trico mayflies. These fish danced on and off their lines. They kept saying, “Look at all these fish”!  Bob and Allison did a little dance of their own on the river.

As always, a good presentation of a little size 22 parachute trico mayfly dry was the ticket. Down and across reach mend casts where by the fish sees the “fly first” made the difference in success. 

It was wonderful for me as a guide who takes way too much for granted to experience their love for each other, their love of the beauty of Colorado and their love for the fly fishing experience.

I felt their vitality. I felt their rebirth. It became a part of me.   I am a little bit more alive because of them.

Trico Hatch In Eleven Mile Canyon: Spiritually Belonging and Not Belonging

 I often wonder if you are a person who believes and has faith that ironically you then might be uncertain of where you belong.

There are times while fly fishing you find your self standing in the South Platte River in the midst of a Trico Mayfly hatch and you tie on the best Trico imitation you can find in your fly box and cast it through the thousands upon thousands of swarming naturals. It  lands on the surface of the currents that are covered with thousands of spent wing spinners and dozens of trout are sipping up the bugs all partaking of this natural phenomenon. If you are lucky you might spot your tiny fly drifting along among the thousands and thousands of naturals on the water and luckier still, you might see a trout among the dozens that are rising almost imperceptibly sip in your fly from the surface. Almost instinctively as though on automatic pilot and in a flow of your own, you raise the rod and the fish upon feeling the hook bolts downstream and leaps out of the water. As you remain in contact with this fish connected by the finest leader material made by man you may think how this all leaves you feeling strangely a part of this flowing world and how you are connected to it by the tiniest hook and almost invisible leader. Yet it all seems bigger than any world you have experienced in years, maybe decades and in some sense is too wonderful to explain to anyone when you get back home.

The only drawback is that when you are home and then have to drive to work on Monday morning the truth hits you as you realize you were and are a part of something much bigger than you and more wonderful than you can ever understand and probably at the same time you now know you are less a part of the smaller world you left behind and are now struggling to rejoin. As you reflect a little deeper you then know that the trick is to not just fool the trout you fish for but to somehow learn the art of living with wisdom, integrity, vitality, perspective and wonder in both worlds even as you remember thousands of mayflies falling down toward you from the sky and thousands that drift away in the currents toward sipping trout.

And then if you read the waters correctly you also might realize you do not completely  belong to either world. Not yet. 

Eleven Mile Canyon Fly Fishing Report: You Know the Fishing is Good When You Go 0-4! Trico Madness

 

The large Cutthroat was about 400 meters above the double tunnels. I have seen it before. He laid in a run on the far side of the river up against a rectangular shaped rock. For those of you who know the area, this run is right across from what my friend Greg calls the “whale rock”.  The fish was sipping on trico spinners in the foam line totally unconcerned that my client and I were right upon him dropping our trico imitation in the foam line. My client did a great job of putting the fly on top of him and the fish took the fly but the fish managed to get free after several seconds. We dropped the fly in again and once again the fish took the fly and once again shook his head a few times breaking free. This scenario played out the same way a total of 4 times and it all took place in only several minutes. We were zero for four with this fish.

It was a bit comical. I usually brag about how smart and finicky the fish of South Platte River can be but with this fish I kind of poked fun of it for taking the fly 4 times in the row and not learning. However I have noticed over the decades that the Trico hatch can bring about some strange feeding patterns in trout. The fish go nuts for these tiny bugs because there are so many of them. And since they are so tiny the fish have to eat a lot of them to get any nutrition. So, they gorge and gorge, selectively on this tiny bug, yet sometimes lacking caution. The fish get so caught up in the rhythm of feeding that they will sometimes take an artificial fly again and again. Years ago, one day on the dream stream, I once caught a rainbow that had 4 flies broken off in his mouth (and they were all my own hand tied flies that my client had broken off that morning).

As my client and I kind of laughed at this fish we wondered if the fish was laughing at us. My client reminded me of that comical definition of insanity; Of doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results.

But regardless of who was laughing at who the fishing sure is good when you go 0-4!

Colorado Fires Calm Down While Fly Fishing in 11 Mile Canyon Heats Up!

Maybe it was the short break the fish were given due to a fire closing the Canyon. And then Highway 24 closed not allowing the usual crowds to hit the canyon. I have often wondered how our fisheries would improve if we gave them a break.

The past two days I guided in 11 mile canyon. I can’t think of a time when it fished better. Dozens and dozens of fish lined up in the riffles and runs sipping trico mayflies, PMD’s and midges. My client fished dry flies for at least 2 hours. And when the dry fly fishing tapered off,  even the nymphing with bead head pheasant tails and RS2’s was productive.

During the Trico spinner fall it seemed that anything small black and white that was properly drifted took fish. At times my client was getting a strike on virtually every cast.

The losses due to the various fires in Colorado were horrible and beyond my understanding. I cannot comment. Anything I say would fall flat.

But after returning to 11 mile canyon I do wonder what possible benefit could take place if we gave our fisheries a rest. Maybe we could find a way to rest our fisheries intentionally rather than have fire keep us out. Maybe a closed season? Perhaps close the canyon for one day a week?

A day of rest might do us and our fisheries good.