Back to the Arkansas: Exploring Pueblo's Tail Water and Arriving Back

“We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time”. T.S Eliot

Yesterday, my dear friend the Reverend Jim White and I returned to explore the Arkansas below Pueblo dam. How could we not? Jim had landed a 25 and a half inch rainbow just  two weeks ago.

For me, there is something about this fishery that is a throw back in time. It reminds me of a time decades ago of fishing for large trout that were not yet ultra selective and over fished. It brings me back to a time when fished hooked went wild and ballistic. It brings me back to a time when fish caught were not all scarred up and with broken off flies in their jaws. And even the somewhat urban setting reminds me of fishing my roots back in New Jersey.

So, Jim and I explored its waters down below Pueblo Boulevard. Since neither of us had fished this section of river we never knew what was just around the bend and what possible large forms lay in the riffles, runs and pools. Even this exploring was reminiscent of a much earlier time in both our lives of exploring our first waters as kids. And somehow this unknowing made our exploration all the more exciting and also innocent and that innocence also brought us back in time.

Did we arrive where we started in some way? And did we know the place as for the first time?  We caught numerous rainbows and some that were 18-20 inches on RS2’s, Pig-sticker worms and size 18 bead head pheasant tails.

Did I see a 20 inch rainbow as I once did 30 years ago when I caught my first “trophy trout”.? Not quite, but perhaps, somewhat. I have not ceased from exploration. I am still exploring trying to get back to that place and to know it as for the first time.

And my faith?  Can I return to an earlier child like place?  Yes, I  think so; Perhaps.  Yes, I would like to know once again what it is to believe in a loving God as for the first time.

I shall not cease from such exploration.

Edges Carved In the Earth: Narrow Living Waters

 

Over the decades I have deeply pondered the words of Jesus when he spoke about being the way, the truth and the life.  I have meditated on how he described himself as being the vine of life and a narrow path that leads to life. I have also deeply considered what he meant when he said he came so that we might have life abundantly and wondered how much that statement, in fact, not only that statement but all these metaphors were meant for us to be experienced in the here and now rather than in some state of heavenly bliss in the future.

When Jesus said the path to life was narrow and few people find it I take that literally in the here and now. I literally picture a narrow band or edge that contains life and is difficult for most of us to find even as we perhaps believe correctly theologically. I picture a narrow gate or path, perhaps even hidden; “That place among the rocks, is it a cave or winding path, the edge is what I have”(Roethke).  I picture a narrow edge where, “Even here, though something can bloom, on a silent cliff edge an unknowing plant blooms, singing, into the air”, and how,  “If only we too could discover a pure, carved out,  human place, our own strip of fruit bearing soil between river and rock”. (Rilke). I think of the men of faith described in the book of Hebrews who lived “in cracks in the earth and holes in the ground”,  and somehow found a rich life in those edges even as they did not receive what was promised.

Do I have life? Am I truly alive in this faith I profess?  Where is my vitality? Do I experience the flowing rivers of living water from my innermost being?

Most often I do not experience these rich waters of life yet, perhaps the closest I come to such experiences occurs when I am standing thigh deep, in clear, cold waters of rivers that have carved their edges into the earth. And I think I get closer still when I am fly fishing these rivers, these edges,  with friends and sharing in that wonder and mystery. 

This past weekend I taught fly fishing to two friends in 11 mile Canyon. We found a narrow band of life as we found Rainbow and Brown Trout moving and feeding in the South Platte River. My friends learned the techniques of fly fishing quickly as we walked up and down that narrow carved out strip of fertile water and we found those fish willing to take our offerings of well presented flies. We briefly and gently held some of those fish in our hands before releasing them back into those living waters.

And, in some very real way, I think we found a narrow carved out edge of life.   

Fathers, Mothers, Sons and Daughters: Fly fishing as a Rite of passage

It seems that many of us have a sense that getting kids outdoors and doing activities such as fishing is a good thing. We may not agree why we think the outdoors and fly fishing can be beneficial to young people but there does seem to be a general consensus of, “Lets get kids outdoors”.

As a counselor, educator, father and fly fishing guide, I have thought about this topic for decades. My conclusion is that I think fly fishing can at least begin to be a component to a rite of passage for young people. Having observed young people for the past 30 years I have become convinced that some kind of a meaningful  rite of passage is needed in our culture to help young people move into adulthood. But I don’t think it is as simple as a father or mother hiring a guide for his son or daughter and making sure he/she catches a fish.

If a parent tries to guarantee that his child will catch a fish he is misunderstanding the process of a rite of passage and of an encounter with nature. Over the years of my guiding experience I have had this sort of thing happen quite often.  The father or mother  will pull me aside before the trip begins asking me (in so many words, some direct, others indirectly) to make sure their child gets hooked on fishing by catching a fish. The parent will stress, “The goal is for my child to catch a fish”, and often a parent might add, “He/she does not have a long attention span and if he/she does not catch something right away he/she will become bored and lose interest”.

A true journey and rite of passage has certain components that I believe are needed and one of those components is quite simply that there are no guarantees, or, at least not in regard to catching a fish. Nature is not under our control.  In the Bible when God finally spoke to Job out of the whirlwind I find His line of questioning very interesting. “Where were you when I laid down the foundations of the world? Tell me if you have understanding”. And then He goes on to question Job about the natural world that Job is not only ignorant about but also has no control over. “Have you ever commanded a single morning”?  “Who had begotten the dew”?  “Have you seen my storehouses of snow”? 

We cannot be afraid to have our children feel ignorant and not in control about certain things.  We cannot be afraid to allow them to fail. The self esteem movement has resulted in a sort of creed, “My kid must always feel good about himself”. I think this has gone way too far to the point where we always have to be holding our child’s hand.

Any heroic journey and rite of passage has a component of solo time. Many young people are rarely alone (And alone with cell phones, computer games and gadgets is not what I mean by alone time), that I think we need to do all we can to allow kids to be by themselves. Of course to ensure time alone, families are going to have to do some restructuring at home, setting strict limits and providing time outdoors.

I hope we can realize that ironically the period of being alone waiting to catch a fish is actually the time when some sort of a rite of passage can begin to take place. The young person learns and potentially is transformed by knowing that there are powers outside him/her self and that he/she is not in control. He/she learns that nature is more powerful. As the child tries to capture a fish he/she learns first hand that life is not all about him/her, that he/she is not the center of things and not entitled to anything. The fish can flat out ignore the young person’s attempts to entice them to bite.  This fact alone can be, in and of itself, transforming and a vital component of a rite of passage.

Perhaps it might be the best thing for a young person while fishing alone; thinking, pondering, problem solving, experimenting, to gaze at the sky around him/her; to then have a large Rainbow Trout slam the fly out of no where, peel off line faster than imaginable, and  leap through the air breaking the leader before the child can even guess what happened. And then the young person stands there decisively “defeated”, yet in awe, and bound and determined to try again. To me, that is closer to what it might mean for a young person to be “hooked on fishing”.

Second Chances At Rainbow Falls Private Fishing Club: Anglers Covey Guide Rendezvous

“Then I know there is room in me for a second huge and timeless life”. Rilke

I knew the big fish was there. It lay in a hole of Trout Creek right below the culverts.  I had tried to fish this hole before lunch and caught some nice trout but I saw nothing of the monster 26 inch rainbow. It was then time for the guides and friends of the shop to meet for lunch and share fish stories from the morning. As I ate some wonderful barbecued chicken I kept thinking about that fish. I thought, “Maybe give it a bit of rest and then when I return I will catch it off guard”.

I trashed my plate, grabbed my 2 wt rod that was rigged for nymphing, and headed up to the pool. My two weight rod would be a weak instrument if I hooked the fish but with the creek being quite small I thought I would have a fair chance of landing it.  Plus I did not want to take the time to rig my 5 weight rod as I got the feeling there was not going to be enough time. And there was not, because as I was walking up to the hole I noticed my friend and fellow guide David Caraghar headed up to the hole. He arrived first and I knew the code of honor was that he who gets to the hole first, fishes the hole.

I was curious about this fish though so I continued my walk to the hole.  I thought, maybe I can watch David have a shot at it. He knew the fish. I think we all did. David called him, Walter. When I approached David, I asked, “Going for that big fish”? He said yes, but then added, “I am not rigged yet, you fish for him.”

Perhaps I should have been a better gentleman and declined his offer. But I had this big fish on my brain so I accepted the challenge. I guess I justified my decision thinking as soon as he rigged up I would give him the hole.  I would only fish it for a few minutes.

So I started drifting an egg and a copper-john nymph through the hole. The water was a bit off color so we could not see down to the bottom where the big fish lay. I thought he would lie closer to the pipes where the water had more velocity and more protection but numerous drifts in this run only produced smaller fish. Where was Walter?

It was about this time that I noticed David was not rigging his rod.  I was so mesmerized by the thought of this big fish taking my fly that I had not noticed that David was not only allowing me to fish this hole but that he was sort of informally guiding me by telling me that the fish usually lay a bit lower in the slack water.  And it was also at about this time that our conversation shifted.

We were talking about faith and spirituality and life. We were quoting beautiful poetry to each other. We were talking about second chances in life even as David gave me a second chance at this big fish and it was then when I was hardly paying attention that the big fish struck the fly.

Being so engaged in our conversation I barely reacted enough to sink the hook into his jaw. The big fish was on and fighting. It was a strong fish but there was not much room for him to run so it was just a matter of time before he tired and David netted the 26 inch rainbow.

As we admired the fish and as I thought about our conversation,  I realized how I was generously given a second chance in life; not just for this fish but also in a much bigger way. I know David felt the same way about his life and I suppose our little dialogue was in a way, a celebration and a sharing of life. I think we also knew that if we talked to many of the other guys fishing on this day, we would find that they too, each in their own way,  were given second chances.

What would faith and life be without second chances?    

Fishing the Nooks and Crannies:Moving Out of the Mainstream Current, Pueblo's Arkansas River Tail-Water

 

Learning to fish the nooks and crannies can be an effective way to deal with the ultra selectivity that takes place on our popular tail-waters.  It seems that in our most popular Catch and Release tail-waters the fish get more and more selective as they are pounded daily by hundreds of good fly fishermen. This high level of selectivity has occurred on the tail-water sections of the Platte; Deckers, the Dream Stream, and 11 mile canyon.  However, the majority of fishermen fish the main obvious runs that hold large numbers of trout. At times, especially when we have no choice,  we need to move out of these main stream currents and fish the nooks and crannies.

By definition, nooks and crannies are places that are remote and where something can be hidden. In the case of fly fishing, nooks and crannies refers to those obscure little seam lines and pockets away from the main-stream runs that hold (hide) trout. Often times these little slots are not fished as heavily and therefore the fish can sometimes be more willing to take a fly.

I got off to a late start yesterday morning so when I walked along the Arkansas tail water I quickly noticed the main runs were already holding one or several fishermen.  I then started looking for those nooks and Crannies that were not being fished.  I moved in between two sets of fisherman and noticed two submerged boulders in the midst of nondescript water.  My third cast produced a fish on a bead head pheasant tail.  I watched the guys above and below and they were not hooking up. When I hooked my second, third and fourth fish both groups started glancing my way. It is always a good feeling when one can go in between groups of fishermen in seemingly marginal water and start hooking fish.

For the next few hours I would move around looking for those in-between places.  I ended up hooking in to 14 fish with most of the fish coming from various nooks and crannies. My best flies were a size 18 bead head pheasant tail, apricot colored egg and a size 22 Cheesman emerger.   

As I have written previously on this blog I am learning to feel somewhat comfortable fishing (and living) in these in-between places. Spiritually, these in-between places are sacred and in fly fishing they can be exciting places to fish. As fly fishers we could all become more productive and skilled by learning to fish these places especially on those days when the river is crowed and only offering these edges.  Fishing the nooks and crannies requires more sensitivity, discernment and specificity to learn exactly where to cast in order to get the proper drift without hanging up. Often weight has to be adjusted if nymphing.

Fishing the nooks and crannies can be a lot more demanding than fishing the classic large runs of the main current. In some sense, fishing the mainstream runs can be quite mindless. Fishing the nooks and crannies requires planning, active problem solving and adjustments to be made on the spot.  These nooks and crannies cannot only be very rewarding but they will also make you a more versatile fly fisherman.   

So, the next time you get to the river late and you are forced to fish the nooks and crannies do not be disappointed. These in-between places can hold hidden surprises.  

"Half As Long" Authentic Dialogue

In A River Runs Through It, Norman Maclean remembers being a young boy and trying to write an essay for his Father.  Every time he submitted it the Reverend Maclean would give it back to Norman for revision and say, “Half As Long”. Maybe this is why his best work, “A River Runs Through It” was only a 100 pages or so.

I tend to think many things should be half as long. There have been many speakers who I know could have said what they had to say in half the time or as I sometimes sarcastically say, “It could have been spoken in 5 minutes”. I would imagine there are fishing guides who explain way too much and talk and talk about how much they know about fly fishing, all the techniques, and bugs,  as the client stands there wondering  if he signed up for a lecture or a fishing trip. Ironically it is often educators of various sorts who should be the best at understanding attention spans and keeping their audiences engaged who often go on and on.  And then there have been many sermons I painfully endured and thought, “It could have been half as long”, or, spoken in perhaps 5 minutes, or,  perhaps not spoken at all.

I guess when it comes to preachers I often wonder if any of them, or if any of us (since in some sense we are all “preachers” of one kind or another), had nothing new to say, (or, if not something new but  maybe even if we were simply bored with saying the same things over and over),  if we could be honest enough to simply state this fact. Can we imagine a preacher getting up in front of the congregation on a Sunday morning and saying, “I am sorry, but I just don’t have anything to say this morning.”?  Or could a guide, when the fish are not biting simply shut up and not go on and on offering up explanations about why they are not catching fish? As Christians, as authentic human beings, as preachers and teachers and guides,  I often think we would be better off to say less.

In C.S. Lewis’s fantasy novel called “Perelandra”, there is a planet that has never experienced the fall. The “first” woman lives on this planet and knows nothing of sin, deception and double talk. A man from earth is sent to this planet. He and the woman talk. At one point she asks him a question of which he does not have an answer. Like many of us would do, he tries to answer the question anyway and the woman laughs. He asks her, “Why did you laugh at me”? She honestly responds, “I laughed because you had nothing to say about it and yet made the nothing up into words”.

Is that what we do sometimes when we have nothing to say about the Divine or about why we are not catching fish?  We take nothing and make the nothing up into words?

If that is the case, and I often think it is, I sure do appreciate and prefer the words, “I just don’t know”.

Breaking Free From Our Father's Instruction: Casting/Stepping Into Liminality, Advanced Casting Techniques

In the movie, “A River Runs Through It”, there is a beautiful scene where Norman, Paul and their Father, are all fly fishing on the Big Black Feet River. We then watch as Paul wanders off somewhat and starts casting in a different direction with a different technique, and is catching fish. The narration reads, “Then I saw something remarkable. For the first time, Paul, broke free of our Father’s instruction into a rhythm all his own.”

I have been thinking a lot lately about fishing and living spiritually from the edge.  Some people such as Richard Rohr are calling this edge liminal space, a space in between and how it can be a blessed, sacred and prophetic place. It can be a place of death and rebirth and therefore a threshold of creativity.

In fly fishing as well as in our spiritual lives sometimes we can get stuck into one way of doing things. The initial instruction was perhaps the first and only instruction we received; it worked (we caught some fish), so we stuck to it.  But when we rely on this one way of casting for all situations we are going to eventually find our selves approaching a new threshold and an invitation to change and recreate. And this is when the fly fisher can begin to become an artist.

To move into a liminal space means we approach a new edge and consider going beyond the previous ways of doing things. It is a threshold. It is a door or a gate that we can move through.  It is Paul, going beyond his Fathers instruction and creating a new technique and approach to his casting. It is in this liminal space where Paul is free to explore the possibilities and is not tied down to convention and mainstream thought.

While I personally cannot lay claim to having created any special or new way of casting I can relate to trying to go beyond standard, conventional ways of casting. Like many experienced fly fishers, I have learned techniques and approaches from other fishermen and have rearranged them somewhat putting them together in different combinations for different situations. And sometimes a somewhat “new” style emerges. But I doubt this is something new under the sun. 

It seems like most of us learned how to drift a fly by quartering upstream and then mending or high sticking the line. This technique works, but eventually you get to the point where you find different ways of achieving a good drift, even a better drift, with the fly in order to fool big trout. For me personally, (again I did not create this technique),  I know when it comes to fooling the biggest and most wary fish on a river I rely on an “across and down” technique to provide the most natural “fly first” presentation. This is particularly true when dry fly fishing. The trick is to present the “fly first” to the fish so that when the fish is looking upstream and overhead all the fish sees is the fly and not the leader.

Now if you are a beginner and wondering how to achieve this type of a presentation I invite you to enter that place of liminality. It is a place of uncertainty and if you try this your casting may look unconventional to others (I call my own style of casting, “slop and flop”), but I encourage you to go out there and keep at it and experiment. Be ok with looking sloppy, at least at first. Casting down and across is sort of like doing things backwards, inverted and upside down all at the same time.  It is casting downstream when everyone else around you is casting upstream. It is doing an “about face” and looking in a different direction. It is deliberately stopping casts in mid air.  It may also involve casting where (to others),there is least likely a fish. It is casting to that tiny slot carved out by a narrow riffle when every one else is fishing a big obvious hole. When fishing in liminal space anything can happen. Sometimes the biggest fish is lying in that narrow slot, takes the fly and then comes exploding out the water. Who could have predicted it?

We know individuals who lived in this liminal space. Gandhi spoke from and in to a liminal space when he refused to submit to unjust laws imposed upon him, even as British guards had clubs and  beat him.  Gandhi speaking the truth in love with a gentle voice and from a place of liminality changed history. Martin Luther King’s words of “I have a dream” echoed in a liminal space and still do. Cervante’s Don Quixote still lives on in liminal space between fiction and nonfiction, fact and fantasy,  being at the same time both crazy and yet visionary, naïve and yet believing.  Jesus spoke to us from a liminal space when he said things like “The first shall be last and the last shall be first”;  “The greatest among you will be the servant of all”, or “He who loses his life shall find his life and he who finds his life shall lose it”, and “You must be born again”.  In liminal space, things seemed to be turned upside down and paradox is common, if not the norm.  

In regard to the Christian church I wonder if Christians can do this “about face” and live in liminal space? I am becoming more and more convinced that we must do this exactly and find a way to do it respectfully. We need to move out of our comfort zones to the edge. But like any great spiritual truth, it is the way of paradox and it will not make sense. It will not be easy. Expect to be lost first before you find your way.  “That place among the rocks, is it a cave or winding path. The edge is what I have” (Roethke).

But this is a place of opportunity. Richard Rohr says it this way, “When you live on the edge, you are in a very auspicious position. You are free from its central seductions, but also free to hear its core message in very new and creative ways. When you are at the center of something, you usually confuse the essentials with the non-essentials, and get tied down by trivia, loyalty tests, and job security. Not much truth can happen there.”  

Look for those large trout on the edge. Turn around. Cast across and down, fly first, so the trout only sees the fly.  And then “hold on”, or, I mean “let go”. Rather, do both.

You are in liminal space.