I have always been a slow learner. Ask any of my grade-school teachers. Or my first platoon sergeant. But I get by…just takes a few attempts to get it right. Late season canyon fishing, among other things falls right in line. It always takes me over a month to grasp the reality that “the best time to be there is mid-day” means THE
MIDDLE OF THE DAY! The tall rock walls make that mid-day window of winter sunshine very narrow. It took me over an hour to trudge down to a remote stretch of river the other day…an area I knew I would not have to share. I only intended to spend two or three hours down there in the canyon, and I knew to hit it mid-day. But I pissed around at the house too long, miscalculated the drive time in the snow…and ended up on the water by Too late. Nothing but shadow. And cold. And no bugs around. I caught three very small brown trout on small midge pupa sunk to the bottom of pools with split shot. After an hour I could not feel any part of my hands. Then I trudged back up through the snow pack. It took twice as long going up hill. I arrived back at the truck well after dark and my back was killing me. For three 7 inch trout. Was it worth it? I leaned back, stretched my aching back, fumbled for my truck keys in the dark… Nope. Not worth it.
But I’ll do it again tomorrow.