5/26/2013 Eleven Mile Canyon Fly Fishing Report

We fished the canyon at 50 CFS. Lots of fishermen, little water. Good numbers of fish holding to whatever depressions/structure they can find.

San Juan worms, RS2's, periwinkle midges, Cheeseman emergers all took fish. Some dry fly activity to small midges. Try a small parachute adams or G. Gnat.

Fish lightly. Walk lightly.  Catch quickly and release quickly. Try to be content fishing for a few hours.  Maybe only try dry fly fishing.  Fish are getting stressed in these conditions and I can't imagine what it will be like when the summer crowds arrive.

Eleven Mile Canyon: Fishing Report May 4th, 2013

I guided 3 beginners today and found good fishing in the  low water of  Eleven Mile Canyon. Some dry fly fishing starting on BWO's and midges.  Nymphing was good on double and triple fly rigs:  San Juan worms, RS2's, Periwinkle nymphs and other small midges. Hopefully the water will come up again. Looking forward to Caddis and Tricos and some of the best dry fly fishing anywhere. I fished 5x to the San Juan worm and 6x to the smaller flies.

To See A Trout Rise; Getting Ready For Blue Wing Olive Mayflies, Caddis, and Trico Hatches On the South Platte RIver

Meet Clarisse, a 17 year old from on of my favorite novels, “Fahrenheit 451”; a story about a futuristic society where it is illegal to read books. Books are burned. All independent thinking is suspect.

In Clarisse’s world most people are in a rush and do not have time for day dreaming or contemplation or for truly seeing nature.  In this world you can be arrested for being a pedestrian because the state does not want anyone to really think too deeply about anything. In this world most people simply interact with their technological devices.

But Clarisse is different. She notices things in the natural world. She has no interest in the technological devices of her times. She does not like the ‘parlor walls’, (a type of flat screen interactive device that people talk to and refer to as their “family”). She challenges the mad rush every one seems to be in. She says,  “I sometimes think drivers don’t know what grass is, or flowers”.

Clarisse understands what it means to, “Consider the Lily of the field”.

Clarisse challenges the main character, Guy Montag, one of the firemen, to think and feel for the first time by simply asking him some questions; “Are you happy”?  “Have you ever smelled old leaves”? . She goes on, “Bet I know something else you don’t.  There’s dew on the grass in the morning”.

I think of a line from the book of Job, “Who has begotten the morning dew”?   

Guy Montag did not know about the dew.  He did not know how to answer Clarisse. Do we?  Maybe if we can’t see the morning dew we will not see the fish rise or at least we won’t see it in the same way.  

I am an educator who like many of my colleagues is concerned with the disconnect many of us have from the natural world. I particularly worry about many kids who know little of the morning dew or the sound of snowflakes falling in a forest or what it is like to walk in a Spring meadow.

Can we hear the sounds of a  river?   

Or, can we see a fish rise?

I think Marissa could.

With the small mayfly and caddis hatches coming soon to the South Platte River we can only hope to sharpen our vision.  

Causing Less Damage On Pueblo's Arkansas River Tail-water: Why Land the Fish? Why Keep Pounding the Run?

“Now everything's a little upside-down. As a matter of fact the wheels have stopped.
What's good is bad, what's bad is good”.   Bob Dylan

This past Saturday I was fishing the Arkansas in Pueblo and was surprised to find one of my favorite runs open. It was already late.  There were 5 fishermen below and 7 above.  I stepped in between and starting casting and was immediately hooked into a feisty rainbow of 18 inches. In the next 20 minutes I hooked up several big fish and several smaller rainbows on a variety of small zebra midges, (red, green, black, olive). Most of the fish shook free and I never touched. The fish shook free because in part, now a days I often sort of fish “lazy” allowing slack in the system during the battle half hoping the fish will free itself from the barb-less hook.  When I lose fish sometimes I think I must be a bad fisherman or that others might think so. But then I think; Why “land” it? Why take it out of the water? Why net it ? And then the obvious fact comes to mind; I am going to release the fish anyway. After hooking a fair number of fish(and landing some), I decided it was time to leave. I was happy to not cause any more damage to the fish. I was happy to not hook anymore fish. And I certainly did not want to “land” any more.  I have little need to tell people of how many fished I caught.

For quite some time I now realize that something beyond Catch and Release is needed to protect our tail-waters. And maybe what I describe above begins to touch on this issue of something beyond catch and release.  I realize that this is a bit of a touchy subject for fly fishers. As fly fishers we tend to think we are ‘above’ doing damage to our trout fisheries because we practice catch and release and fish with flies. Yet, it is my opinion that nothing could be farther from the truth. Something more is needed.

As Bob Dylan wrote, “Now everything is a little upside down”.  Maybe we might have to re-think things.  Maybe, sometimes, the “good is bad” and the” bad is good”.  So when I am fishing ‘badly’ I may actually be fishing in a manner that is good and beyond catch and release.  And when I am fishing “good” I may be causing more damage. And when I fish like a fool I may actually be wise.

And I guess it doesn’t make much sense to most fishermen to walk away from a run while one is hooking big fish. This is a “little upside down”. It kind of reminds me of some of the things Jesus spoke on; “The last shall be first, the first shall be last; He who will cling to his life will lose it.” 

These truths are the most upside down of all and are the essence of the more that is needed.

"To Know What Occurs But Not Recognize The Fact": Community Life 2

Often in relationships we know certain facts but we don’t “recognize” them as William Stafford suggests in his poem on community life. Stafford compares a community to a circus that is trying to get to the park. The elephants parade along holding each others tails. But one elephant wanders, the others follow and the circus is in jeopardy of never arriving. The community is lost.

The poet calls this “cruel, and maybe the root of all cruelty, to know what occurs and not recognize the fact”.  So what is cruel?  Is it cruel that someone from the community wanders off or is it that the others follow or is it that we know what occurs but we do not recognize the fact? Maybe it is all cruel. A community has lost its way.

In relationships, to not recognize the fact might mean that we know something is wrong but we simply do not know what to say or do. So, we “let it go”. We almost pretend to not see it and we fool each other. I would have to agree that there is something cruel going on here and yet, my guess is that it happens quite often. .

What is the poet’s solution? Stop pretending and learn to talk at a deeper level. As Stafford says we should appeal to the deeper parts of each other. He asks us to, “Appeal to something shadowy, a remote important region in all who talk”.  He asks us to be clear with one another, “The signals we give-yes or no, or maybe- should be clear”, and he asks us to be awake.  “For it is important that awake people be awake”.  Finally, he asks us to keep the lines open with one another, “or a breaking line may discourage us back to sleep”.

But it is far easier to pretend. It is far easier to “Not recognize the fact”.

When I see a big Rainbow trout lying deep among big boulders and submerged logs I quickly know the challenging and difficult cast I will have to make. I can pretend I don’t recognize the facts and carelessly cast and make a mess of things, getting all tangled on rocks and logs and probably break the line.  Or, I can know the situation, recognize the facts and act accordingly; artistically and tactfully. Eyes wide open. Awake.

Following the Wrong Elephant: A Few Thoughts On Church Life

William Stafford’s poem on community life, “A Ritual to Read to Each Other”, among other things, warns us about following the wrong guru.  If we hold on to the tail of an elephant  that has gone off the path, then, “the circus won’t find the park” and “we may miss our star”, because we, “followed the wrong god home”, and “allowed a pattern that others made prevail”. 

This can easily happen in church communities where we tend to prop guru’s up in high places. This can also easily happen as a community if we don’t really know and value each other and the individual members do not have a voice. Instead we give all authority to one voice.

“If you don’t know the kind of person that I am and you don’t know the kind of person you are a pattern that others made may prevail and following the wrong god home we may miss out star”. 

“Following the wrong god home”, can mean many things. Churches can follow mainstream cultural themes such as the god of money, numbers, size, or celebrity worship instead of listening to the voice and life with in its community members.  Romans Chapter 12 clearly states we are all needed and we all have our own voice. We all have our gift to offer up and that we should not conform to patterns of the world. We should be counter cultural because our roots are in God, not the culture.

Sadly, many churches are structured in a way that there is the idolization of one man. This is the head preacher or minister.  People come to hear him speak. People come to hold his tail.

This is not an issue of this head elephant not being gifted or not speaking the word of God. But rather it is the issue that there are lots of other members in the community who are largely passive and should have a voice.

Maybe we would be better off to hold on to each others tails instead of the one that is all dolled up for the circus.

I know the same thing happens in fly fishing communities. We prop people up. We listen only to him.  Yet, I have found the most useful information coming from “ordinary” fly fishers of my community, who are just out there fishing and catching fish.  And they really know something.

Fishing After School: Chasing Childhood Images on Pueblo's Arkansas River Tail-Water

“Oh childhood, O images slipping from us. Whither Whither?”  Rilke

Fishing after school brings back memories. As a kid, I would rush home, grab my fly rod and rush up to a private pond that was loaded with Largemouth Bass. Back then, I only carried a fly rod and kept in my pocket an extra white marabou streamer. No vest. No waders. Not even an extra leader.

This past week, after school, I drove down to Pueblo’s Arkansas River. Of course I am no longer a student but rather I am an educator. Yet I felt some of that old excitement of being a child and looking for big fish. Some things never change. And some things do.

I now carry a lot of equipment. Too much perhaps.  I was geared up with two rigged fly rods, my vest stuffed with fly boxes containing thousands and thousands of flies and numerous pieces of tackle, leaders and tools and gadgets.  And of course I had waders. How different from fishing during the simplicity of childhood when I only wore shorts and sneakers.

The big rainbows were there. I could see them just as I could see big bass in the shallows of the pond I fished as a kid.  My eye sight is still good.  In certain ways sight casting to bass was similar to casting to rainbows.  Spot the fish, put the fly in front of the fish. I didn’t need the extra tackle. Extra tackle does not help the eyes. I caught several large bows 19-22 inches and several smaller fish. As is most often the case, I missed many. It didn’t matter.

I only fished two hours. I accomplished what I had hoped for and brought something back unexpected.  Something from long ago, a deep and loving memory of being a child on a  late sunny afternoon walking a pond stalking fish with seeing eyes, hope in my heart and fly line looping over head toward the skies.  

Oh images, do not slip away.