Life Stirring On The Dream Stream

South Park, Co. Temperature: Zero.  In-between sucking the ice off of the guides of my fly rod and dealing with a frozen, jammed reel, we found life stirring in the frozen tundra of South Park's Dream Stream. My friend Greg and I caught numerous fish nymphing for resident fish. Best fly patterns were an orange egg, black midge and red midge. The big/big fish are not up yet but it was probably better I did not hook a monster with a frozen reel and with ice jammed in the guides.  

Being at Home in the New Places We Fish

When ever I fish new waters in a new place I can feel kind of lost. I may not feel "at home" in a strange place.

What is comforting however is that I can often apply some basic principles of fly-fishing combined with instinct, in order to find my "place" among the fish in the river.

I search for fish hoping to sight them holding in the pools, runs and under seam lines. If I cannot directly see the fish I can try to read the water and predict where they might be holding.

I use multiple nymph rigs using three different searching patterns. Everyone has their favorites. I most often use a San Juan worm (brown or red), a bead-head Pheasant tail, and a small midge such as a black zebra midge, or an RS2.

When I fish with familiar flies and techniques I kind of feel at home regardless of where I fish. When I can sight fish and watch a fish take my "go-to" fly, for a brief moment I am no longer a stranger wandering in a strange land.

Looking Back to South Park: Warmer Days on the Dream Stream

Looking back over Wilkerson Pass at Sunset; down into South Park and memories of the 'Dream Stream'; Big fish rising to BWO's and Tricos; as I now also look ahead to Spring and warmer days.

Winter Fly Fishing Preparation: What Does it Mean to Go Far Ahead on the Road?

Moving along the time continuum or what I have been referring to as "Moving far ahead on the road,"  simply means, we are attempting to live with faith. If we believe, down the road, we will eventually be on the water watching BIG rainbows swimming around on the bottom of a run, then some preparation is needed. Winter is a great time to tie flies or perhaps take a class on how to fly fish. We can practice-cast in our back yards across the frozen snow, all in preparation. We might want to prepare our gear and practice our knots.

When I competed in wrestling (or even, now in running races), I remember trying to have the faith to believe, far on down the road, that I might find myself in a championship bout with a tough guy, yet, with a chance to win. If I really believed that as a possibility, then I would try to make sure I did everything within my power to be prepared and, if possible, gain a slight edge. I bring the future confrontation to the present moment, trying to believe that what I do in the present, might allow me to "hold on" in the future. 

If we do not believe that contest will ever happen then we will probably just sit on our couches watching TV.  However, if we can see on down the road, through the falling snow, we might just envision ourselves, standing on the bank, toe to toe, staring at a 25 inch rainbow on the South Platte. Will you be ready with the right fly to make the perfect cast? Is your skill set ready? Will you have the slight edge? Have you prepared yourself?

Do your eyes go far ahead on the road and touch the sunny banks of the river?

Will the knot you tied hold? Will you be able to hang on? Will you be able to keep up with that huge fish as it races on down the river?

Ahead of The Road

"My eyes already touch the sunny hill, going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has its inner light, even from a distance- and changes us, even if we do not reach it into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture waves us on, answering our own wave. . . but what we feel is the wind in our faces."  Rilke

We see the road ahead and our eyes already touch the sunny hill or for fly fishers, the sunlit river with rising fish.  But until we get there we might  have to endure a hard road. Good fishing lies ahead but for now, we feel the snow and cold winds against our faces.

However, we are already there. We already touch the sunny hill or the glistening river teeming with fish. Having a vision for our lives and where we want to go, transforms us. "It has its inner light, even from a distance- and changes us."

Sometimes our goals and our dreams feel this way. We already know even from a distance. We already arrived, "even if we do not reach it."

We hardly sense something. Something grabs us, a gesture waves us on, and we persist down the road, going far ahead of the road, we have begun, looking for trout...

And the elusive One that waves us on. . .

 

 

Winter Break Fly-Fishing

I take a certain satisfaction  engaging in activities that are in tune with the seasons. Few things in life are as rewarding as sensing I am in the right place at the right time such as fly fishing to a specific hatch.

I love that sense of,  "It is time."  I love to feel, "in season," or "tis the season."  Back east we had a "closed season" and anglers looked forward to "opening day." Here in Colorado, most of our waters are open to fish any time of year. One local exception is Spinny Mountain Reservoir which has a closed season and an opening day. Opening day is highly anticipated by many anglers. Being a part of this ritual of  "opening day" creates a sense of connection to the bigger cycles of life.  

More specifically there are certain times of the year to put on specific flies during  certain hatches. When we follow such specific 'seasons' fly fishing gives us a sense of belonging. There is a time for the fish to rise and a time to lay low.  For me, now, is the time when both I and fish will lay low.  I feel I do not belong on the river now.

Often for me, the month of December is a time for me to retreat from the river. While it is cold and snowy, I prefer to cross country ski. I bundle up and keep warm blending in with winter.

I feel more in harmony with nature when I allow the seasons and the weather to dictate what I do. If I fish now, I feel I am "standing out," exposed to the cold. I feel I am "fighting" against the elements of nature rather than being a part of it all.  

I am not sure when I will fish again. Year to year, December tends to be my down time for fly fishing. But, as we know, Colorado weather can change so quickly.  Perhaps a warm, lengthening, day in January might bring me out to the river again. However, for now, I lay low like the fish. For now, I allow the snow and the cold to come down upon me. But I am not exposed. I remain warm, becoming a part of the landscape, deep in powder.

I glide silently, low and deep, in the womb of the wood. I ski the mountain and forest, forever looking for a glimpse of the source of all this winter beauty.  I look for a hint of warmer days to come, when a fish might rise, as I too will rise from my own interior winter. 

The Mind of Winter

I think often about my place in nature. I wrestle with my sense of belonging. Sometimes I walk up to the river and on my first few casts I catch fish. Everything is beautiful, flowing, and everything is just right. I feel I belong.

Fishing or doing anything in harsh conditions can be different. Sometimes it just too cold and the wind feels too harsh to belong. Sometimes we are just waiting and waiting for things to warm up and for the fish to start feeding. During such moments, at least for me, I feel almost "God forsaken" in a God forsaken land.

Yesterday, I went skiing. It was cold, bitter cold.  "Cold on cold; snow on snow." Usually I love floating and flowing on snow. But, the cold wind was unrelenting. I had to turn my back on nature to keep my face from freezing. I was miserable wondering in such harsh conditions how this is "God's place." I found myself wondering if there was some way to "enter," to enter God's creation, and to enjoy it. If there was a way in, and I was supposed to be there, I was missing the point of entrance.

Poets give us clues. Could I be like a snow-man?  Poetic words by Wallace Stevens from a poem titled, "The Snow Man."

"One must have a mind of winter, to regard the frost and the boughs of pine trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time to behold the Junipers shagged with ice. The spruces rough in the distant glitter of the January sun. And not to think of any misery in the sound of the wind, in the sound of a few leaves,which is the sound of the land full of the same wind that is blowing in this same bare place."