Fly Fishing in Colorado

[Vagabond]

Fly Fishing in Colorado.

Back in the mid-eighties, I had come across a little book, "Fly Fishing the High Country" written by someone little-known in the UK at that time - John Geirach. Now of course his books have an enormous following - practically cult status.

 

This book struck a chord with me - I had spent much of my formative years after the wild trout of the High Weald headwaters (I know others have written about "Trout of the Upper Medway" but where I'm talking about is a further ten miles upstream) Places where trout of over a pound are scarce, but are there for those that can catch them, and the brooks can be crossed with a single stride. Further experience with Scottish and North Country burns and becks had developed my love of tiny streams to the point of obsession.

It seems a far cry from the Rockies of Colorado to the brooks of the High Weald, but the fact that I could relate John's accounts of trout fishing and trout behaviour to my own experiences shows what deep insight lies behind his writings.

 

John has a degree in philosophy - and that shows too in his writings - like :-

 

"Let me try out an idea on you - perhaps the stature of a fly fisher depends not on how big a trout he has caught, but on how SMALL a trout he can catch without feeling disappointed"

 

The more I thought about that, the better I liked it. The rainbow I was most proud of catching was not the twenty-one pound triploid from a small still-water, nor yet the seven-pound grown-on stockie from the reservoir. No, it was the pound-and-a-half natural-spawned fish from the upper reaches of the Windrush - tucked away in a small pocket of smooth water with a swirly current protecting it. Only my very best cast was good enough to present a drag-free fly well enough to catch that trout - I can still picture it now, forty years on.

 

So a trip to the Rockies has long been on my agenda - but May is a bit early in the season - fewer anglers, but fewer hatches too, and the chance of late snowstorms stranding one high in the mountains. Conditions there in May are similar to those in the Scottish Highlands in March.

 

However, I decided to risk it - after all, Geirach had caught fish there in all months of the year. Briefly, the scenario is that non-native browns and native rainbows are found in the main streams, and as you go higher and the streams get steeper and narrower, the native cut-throat trout are found, and if you come across beaver ponds or "mountain meadows" (flattish places where presumably there was once a glacial lake) non-native brook trout are to be found where there are undercut banks. Rainbows and cut-throats are the only true native trouts, but there has been, in the past, indiscriminate stocking of browns, brook trout, and strains of rainbows from elsewhere. The new policy is to try to recreate a scenario with only the native fish present.

 

I started on the Eastern side of the mountains in the headwaters of the Rio Grande and its tributary the Conejos. Picture a steep rocky stream , floored with slippery boulders, fringed with stout willow bushes. These bushes are stout because they are continually nibbled by various species of deer and by beaver - in effect this is continuous pollarding and coppicing - so the shoots are tough and numerous - lethal to a careless back-cast. In fact the only way to make an overhead cast is to wade up the narrow stream between the willow fringes and cast straight upstream. If the water is too deep or too rough to wade, then you need to Spey cast (don't leave home without this skill or you will be struggling). The water is gin clear, so the trout spook easily - every bit of your stalking skill is required - and even then, as Dick Walker once wrote " You will scare more fish than you will ever know about"

 

Just to add to your difficulties, in spring there is often a severe westerly gale screaming its way over the Continental Divide and straight downstream. Its one thing punching a narrow loop into the wind on an open reservoir , quite another to deal with the intermittent swirls and gusts in a narrow canyon. At one point, called Windy Gap (I should have known) I had just laid a cast on the water when a gust swirled, lifted the surface off the water, and dumped my line, cast, fly and a couple of pints of water straight in my face - not nice, and was I glad to be using barbless hooks.

 

Another problem is related to the beavers - if you fish the recommended sinking nymphs which are needed when there is no hatch of fly, you discover what untidy builders beavers are - many sticks are wedged vertically in the stream - not visible from where you cast, but waiting to entangle your nymph. If you fished the stream regularly, of course, you could remove some sticks, and remember where at least some of the immovable ones were. A newcomer has to learn the hard way!

 

Ah ! Forgot to mention the altitude. Fished up to about 9,000 ft on these rivers and reached 11,000 ft further north. Scrambling up steep rocky streams at this altitude has reduced many strong young men to gasping wrecks, so I suppose an old boy of 68 is entitled to puff a bit ……..

 

Caught brownies up to a pound or so from Rio Grande and Conejos, but no rainbows. There were notices up everywhere reminding you that the bag limit for browns was two fish. That meant two fish of 16" or MORE on some parts of the catchment and two fish of 12" or LESS on other parts - obviously part of a carefully thought out management policy. (as in so much fishery management, "carefully thought out" is not the same as "correct", but I don't know the background to this, so am merely reporting it, not defending or criticising it) More ominous were instructions to return all rainbows IMMEDIATELY. Presumably that means rainbow populations are in trouble - the "Whirling Disease" must have bitten hard, as these notices were on every river I fished, and the pattern was the same - brownies present - I caught some from each river fished, but not a single rainbow did I catch from a river.

 

In order to catch rainbows I had to go up to some small mountain lakes, at about 9500 feet - anything higher than that was still iced. No surface activity was seen, but I got several small rainbows on a high density sinking line and weighted nymph - it was necessary to wait 20 seconds after the cast before retrieve because the fish were really deep. These were the smallest rainbows I have ever caught - and remembering Geirach's thoughts, No, I was NOT disappointed.

 

We crossed the Divide to fish the Gunnison catchment ( a tributary of the Colorado - flowing west) - more browns, up to a couple of pounds, but still no rainbows. Even fifteen miles up Soap Creek of the Gunnison it was still brown trout from the tiniest trickle. Once out of the main rivers into the creeks, you can forget about overhead casting - the willows meet overhead. All casting needs to be roll, switch or Spey - you will find this terrain sharpens up your casting skills considerably ! Forget about distance too, up there, accuracy is everything.

 

We turned north to fish the Upper Colorado. More brown trout. By now we were approaching the headwaters in Rocky Mountain National Park. Here there were plenty of mountain meadows, but the brookies were not rising, nor taking my nymphs.

 

As a diversion, Norma got charged by a moose here - she was bird-watching whilst I was fishing, and became aware of a large animal "sounding like a carthorse" crashing through the willows towards her.

She stepped behind the largest rock she could see, and watched this moose go blundering past before remembering she had the video over her shoulder. It wasn't really charging her of course, but just for a moment she thought it was. That was the only animal incident of note. We saw coyotes in both Texas and Colorado, several sorts of deer, chipmunks and squirrel by the hundred, but no bear. Colorado fishing lore is a bit heavy on bear, but we encountered none apart from tracks and droppings.

 

"You are entering bear country, please read the special regulations"

1/ Do not approach bears. (I wouldn't dream of doing so without a formal introduction)

2/ Do not feed bears (I have no intention whatsoever of providing or becoming a bear's lunch)

3/ If a bear approaches you, scare it away. (Now this must take the prize - I don't know any bears, but I guess one approaching you is unlikely to be of a nervous disposition. - any suggestions anyone?)

 

Next day it started to snow, just as we found another mountain lake with small rainbows - nothing large, but at least I can now say I have fished at over 10, 000 feet in a snow blizzard AND caught fish.

During the snowstorm we drove back over the Divide to Este Park and the St Vrain catchment - this system flows east, via the Platte River to join the Missouri below Omaha. St Vrain is John Geirach's stamping ground, and we went to the famous fly-fishing shop in Lyons to pick up some flies tied by A K Best (John's buddy, and a first-rate fly tier, fly fisher and writer) AK only fishes with flies he has tied himself. I can identify with that - my favourite flies are ones I have tied myself from feathers from birds I have shot myself, but I am not averse to using other peoples well-tied flies - and AK's were superb.

 

How very appropriate it seemed, then, next day, to fish the headwaters of the North St Vrain Creek, spot a likely Brook Trout lie, float a dry Size 16 Adams (tied by AK) perfectly (no drag -for once) past the lie, and hook and land my first American Brook Trout. These, like the Great Lake Trout, are also charr - Dark green backs with light orange mottling, crimson bellies, and the tell-tale milky-white leading edge to the lower fins. Really handsome.

 

My final target was the St Vrain strain of greenback cut-throat trout - Colorado's State Fish. We located them all right in a high lake, but they were spawning. Although there is no close season in Colorado, I did not wish to fish for known spawners - there is no chance they will deliberately eat your fly and every chance one might get foul-hooked if you cast anywhere near them. Not my style. So we contented ourselves with video pictures of this beautiful little fish - green backs, orange-red bellies, and the vivid red slash under the gills for which they are named.

 

Finally, if you are just idly thinking of going to flyfish Colorado, DO IT - its well worth it.. Make sure you are adequately prepared, skillwise, because it is definitely not easy, but the personal rewards of catching fish (of any size!) in this difficult and challenging terrain are immense, and the scenery is something you will never forget.

 

Accounts re fishing in Texas and for Mackinaws on Lake Blue Mesa will appear on the coarse thread

 

[ 27 May 2002, 06:36 PM: Message edited by: Vagabond ]