The Road to Brainard

The road to Brainard Lake is now open, allowing access to Red Rocks Lake (which winter kills every year...and this year has apparently been stocked with a handful of 6 to 8 inch rainbows). But, if you are looking for a close, but fun area to take the family (maybe camp?) over this 4th of July weekend, this might be your spot. The entrance fee for the area is $9 and the pass is good for a week. There are seven different lakes to fish. The two lakes that you can drive right up to are Red Rocks Lake and Brainard. Long Lake and Mitchell Lake are excellent, as well. Fishing them involves only a short walk along a maintained trail...and can be worth it. The fishing is often better and there are fewer other people. The recreation area is just west of Ward (30 min west of Boulder) You will see the signs on highway 7.

Lucky Man

I have never been a man of means. Unless you consider stubbornness and persistence to be means. (Maybe they are, but you sure as hell can't fold them up and put them in your wallet.) I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth...it was more of a clunky, metal Coleman camp spoon. And I did not fare well in the classroom scene, so there were no grants or scholarships rewarding my graduation. I didn't even attend my high school graduation. About the time my fellow classmates were being handed their diplomas and flipping their orange and blue tassels from one side of their silly hat to the other...I was being handed an Entrenching Tool and attempting to disassemble (and reassemble) an M16 in the the dark. And then, for most of the years of my civilian life that followed, my blue-collar work ethic and Army-induced sense of loyalty were generally taken advantage of by selfish girlfriends and crooked employers. But I kept on keepin' on. Put in 80 instead of 40. Never settled. Never satisfied. And as they say, within 12 hours the stopped clock is right...the dumb hog gets his nut...and sooner or later the studio apartment full of circus chimps bangs out a best seller on an old typewriter. Things begin to fall into place. I start getting published. My flies begin turning up in more and more fishing reports and fly boxes. And a real fisher-woman falls in love with me. Finally met my Eddy. Yup...things start to happen. But, I have kind of lost track of all the things going on in my life this past year. Too many things. Too many hours. Too busy.

But...three days ago things all slowed down long enough for me to actually focus on what was in front of me. My sister was back around to this side of the globe. Her annual migration. And she got to meet Erin. My Eddy. These sort of meetings can go a multitude of ways...sisters and new girlfriends. Rottweilers showin' teeth and sniffin' ass. We have high standards for the mates of our siblings. New members of the tribe. So there was only one way to do it, I figured...take them to a bass pond and see what transpired. And...well...like Forrest said, peas and carrots! They hit it off. And caught a lot of fish, too. I made a few casts, but mainly just hung around to take photos.

That is about the time it hit me. Standing in warm, waist-deep bass water...swatting mosquitoes, fiddling with the camera...and grinning. Damn I am a lucky man!

Carpin' With Cooper

Hey Jay, Here is a picture and a brief story about our trip. Netted 12 of these bad boys ranging from 9-13 lb. and there were just as many hookups and break offs. These fish were hungry and aggressive. If you missed them on the first cast and they saw the fly, they were looking all over for it, doing whatever they could to find that tasty morsel. We used a variety of crawfish patterns. One of the them was all white and they went crazy over it. One of the really cool things about carp fishing with Chris Cooper this trip was fishing from a skiff push pole in the back and fisherman in the front. You felt like you were salt water fishing for Bone Fish or Tarpon.
--Scott
 
(Send me your fishing story! jayzimangler@yahoo.com)

Fly Shop Coffee

John Gierach once wrote an essay entitled Camp Coffee in which he described in detail the enjoyment of taking a break while on the river--a stop to look around...smell the roses...don't be in such a hurry to get to where you are going. To die. I guess. Valid point, loved the story. But most of my coffee is consumed in a fly shop. Not along the South Platte. Sure...I work there, and we keep a peg board above the coffee maker with at least two dozen mugs hanging. Some of the mugs have been claimed (by a long-time customer, guide or shop employee) but most, for all intents and purposes, are considered communal. For use by any of our friends and customers who are in need of a hot drink or a little mid-morning kick. And there in lies the problem...most of the mugs are communal. Those of us with our own mugs hanging have tried, in vain, to mark and/or distinguish our mugs as ours...private mugs. Nothing seems to work. Not Sharpie pens, Babcocks! Don't Use! ...nothing.

But, I think I have finally solved the problem. Since I switched to this nice blue mug, I have not once had to wrestle it away from a friend or stranger. I get some odd looks and questions from time to time...people think I am a bit macabre...but, then again, I think they already knew...

Big Bugs, Big Bugs...Big Bugs

This is June on the Front Range of Colorado—the rivers are looking more and more like a giant Yoo-Hoo tanker truck jackknifed somewhere up in the canyon. The water is high and brown…like chocolate milk. Get it? But don’t despair. This is the season for heavy leaders and big bugs. And I do not necessarily mean 4x and stoneflies…I am talking about 1x, 4 inch streamers and warmwater! The bass fishing has gotten silly good and the local carp flats are beginning to put out double-digit fish counts for those with the right drive and flies! Come by Rocky Mountain Anglers in Boulder and check out some of our new fly bins. Business has been smoking good this year (thank you, all!) so we took some of the profits and had a guy build us some new fancy fly bins out of beetle-kill lumber. Plus we absolutely stacked the new bins with flies. We, unarguably, have the best and deepest fly selection in town! And, boy, do we ever have a ton of big ones…streamers and bass bugs coming out our ears!

Carp on top...with cottonwood seeds!

This is the time of year for the cottonwood drop. The white, fluffy seed pods have been floating around for a couple of weeks now. They can clump together on your leader and be a serious hassle to remove. In fact, they are the main reason I stopped building my own leaders...the more knots, the more aggravating white balls of cotton!The one bright side to all this as been the great opportunity to match the hatch and take carp on dry flies! Yes. You just read that. Matching the hatch. Carp on dries. Take some time to adjust...


Read a story about the best material for cottonwood seeds...ever!

Fat Stacks of Greenbacks

I have fished Lily Lake for many years. Done well, most of the time…but regardless of the quality of fishing that particular day, I invariably lusted after the middle of the lake. There just had to be more and larger trout out deep. Just had to be. So, I have always promised myself to one day get out there in the middle. Belly boat. Canoe. Hell…one day just tie a streamer onto my ankle with 3x and swim out there! But, I did not have to strip down and swim. Not today. Erin Block and I lashed a canoe to the roof of her Toyota and made haste to the lake. Was a beautiful day, not too much wind and, unlike our last trip to Lily Lake, there was not eight inches of ice covering the entire surface. Lily is slightly less than 9000 feet, so it will usually be one of the first high cutthroat lakes to ice off. It is also relatively shallow, so the water tends to get warm fast. It is already up to 64 degrees, making the fish a tad sluggish after even a short fight—the main reason to fish this lake early and then leave it alone for the rest of the summer.

Lily Lake also happens to be the most accessible lake in the Rocky Mountain National Park (along Highway 7 several miles south of Estes Park) so we were expecting not to be alone. And were right…there were maybe a dozen other anglers. About half spin fishermen (having no luck) one hapless, ill-advised old man with a Tenkara pole—it’s from Japan, he told us—and the other half wielding fly rods. All were shore-bound. Erin and I shared the middle of the lake only with a small inflatable raft being paddled around by four or five underdressed college girls. Row row row your boat… They would all try to sing in unison, then smack the water with their paddles and continue a high-pitched blather about dating some boy. Poor boy…hope it was worth it.

We saw no fish rising, but did see some midges around and two larger (when compared to the midges!) callibaetis mayfly adults on the surface. So, we rigged black leeches with skinny tan callibaetis nymphs behind them. When the wind was pushing us around we would set the rods down and troll, only picking them up to cast during the moments of calm. And we caught greenbacks. Not many, though. Ironically, it took us beaching the canoe and casting from shore before we really got into the fat stacks! Blind casting was delivering nothing, either. We found the most productive approach was stalking the bank and sight cast to cruising fish with one of Erin’s micro-streamers. Lily Buggers, we took to calling them…

Sharpie (The Tier’s Companion)

Unconventional tricks. Cheap tricks. I love ‘em all. Peek into any avid fly tier’s kit bag and you will learn some cool new stuff to add to your own arsenal. The best ones are usually the simple ones. One of my favorites is having a black Sharpie marking pen handy on my fly tying desk. Here are some of the ways I like to use it.

Sex up a streamer. This is a cheap trick to add parr marks or other stripes and markings on otherwise bland streamers. Sometimes I will just darken the very top of a baitfish or sculpin, but every now and then I will completely change the appearance of the streamer by adding very aggressive markings. When I do this I will use one of my larger pens and be sure to have a folded napkin or old newspaper underneath. Be sure to press down hard enough on the first side so that it outlines the markings to follow—to maintain a sense of natural symmetry.

Touching up a midge. I never like spending too much time on any one midge pupa. Simple and slender is the key to tying them successfully…especially a larger chironomid. Keep the abdomen long and skinny and build the thorax up slightly fatter with thread. Use the Sharpie to darken up the top of the thread thorax before coating the fly with Softex or Loon UV Knot Sense.

Dot your own eyes. Cross your own tree frogs. Instead of finding sloppy ways to adhere stick-on eyes to your foam flies (that will inevitably fall off after the third or fourth cast) use the Loon UV Fly Paint to create your own. The yellow paint comes out an excellent glowing green when applied over a solid green foam. Once the paint is cured with a UV light it adheres fairly permanently to the foam. I do my frog eyes in four steps. 1: Apply yellow UV paint and cure. 2: Sharpie black pupals. 3: Cover with a coat of clear UV Knot Sence and cure (this prevents the pupals from smudging). 4: Apply a final coat of Hard-As-Hull or some other glossy head cement.

Ribbed for dry fly pleasure. Nothing looks as good on the slender body of an adult mayfly as quill or biot, but if you need some fast ribbing...build up the body with thread, then hit an inch or so of the thread with your Sharpie and wrap it forward. Pow! Ribbed.

So…those are four good ways to use a Sharpie in your fly tying. I am sure you have some of your own black magic. Please share. E-Mail me a clear photo and a paragraph and I will add it to this article! (jayzimangler@yahoo.com)

Nothin’ But Blue Skies

Oh, there were blue skies on Memorial day, too…but the wind was putting whitecaps on one of my favorite carp flats. There were a few families attempting barbecues in the nearby park. A sad parade of comedy, really. Small children and cooking utensils were being blown away. Lap dogs whipping around like flags on their tethers. I did manage to land one good carp, but it didn't seem to take the edge off the constant aggravation. BUT, the day after Memorial day...well! Nothin' but blue skies, a slight breeze...and hot out! And I had that day off, too. Who could believe my luck? I had seen plenty of fish activity the day before (just couldn't cast a fly against the wind) so I knew right were I was going. Back to the park! Avenge myself...and maybe rescue some of the little kids and dogs from atop trees. You know, be the hero.

Just as I was loading my "assault pack" into the truck I get a call from an old friend, Rob Chapin. He was just at that moment wadering up on Boulder Creek. So I convinced him to exchange the three weight for the six and join me for some fun in the mud and the sun. And the day was good. I got sunburt and borderline heat stroke...but the carp were willing to take a wine Backstabber so I saw my backing on several occasions! Rob's a medic, so I wasn't too worried (he had been covering the Boulder Bolder 10k the day before and had said this was one of the first years in a long time with no heart attacks...my reply was something along the lines of, "well, that sort of takes the excitment away, huh?" He just shook his head at me. So, there ya go, Boulder. Be glad you have Rob looking out for ya and not me. But, come on! It is like the Daytona 500 with no trading of the paint! Somebody gots to go down. Just the way it is.

Gonna Miss You, Brother

Thank you for all those hours of conversation. Thank you for your stories. Thank you for the big-ass bails of dubbing you used to give Rob and me. No one will ever make black leech dubbing as good as you. I have two small packs left. Gonna tie some PIMP leeches with it for this summer. Gonna use every last clump. Gonna use nothin' lighter than 1x and gonna catch a hundred friggen' trout. Shane Stalcup...gonna miss ya, brother.

Boulder Creek Fishing Report

Big water season is here. Runoff has started. Blaaah. The Big Thompson has breeched 300cfs two days ago, the Poudre is raging, South Boulder is over 250cfs and Clear Creek…well, a bit of an oxymoron. But good ol’ Boulder Creek is still holding her own! The only game in town, actually. The flows lower in the canyon and in town Boulder have been fairly steady the last few days at about 65 cubic feet per second. This means you will have to be a confident wader to fish the creek properly and need to be willing to remove your strike indicator and high-stick a pair of heavy nymphs.

Cody Burgdorff and I spent a few hours on Boulder Creek yesterday afternoon. The current was swift and a tad off-color…just the right concoction to scare away the feeble-kneed and fair-water types. We fished for almost four hours and never saw another fisherman. Excellent. Just the way we prefer it!

I fished a set of big Banksia Bugs on a 4x leader…and took plenty of fish. Cody used a variety of big nymphs, to include Girdle Bugs, Czech Nymphs and big Hair’s Ears. They all took trout—almost at will. There were size 18 Blue-Winged Olives hatching periodically all day, but it was the larger crane fly larvae and stonefly nymphs that the local browns were pouncing on. With the escalated flows and slightly dirty water, these juicy morsels get swept out from under their rocks. They are bigger and fatter than little BWO nymphs…easier to see.

Rainy Day Carp

Rainy day carp don't eat, they just watch ‘till they've seen all the flies you've got. (No...wait, that’s not how the Gordon Lightfoot lyrics go.) Sometimes carp will take a fly even in the least likely conditions. You just never know. If fishing in the rain is your only option, then ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

Yes—this spring has been one of the more torturous for me in a long, long time. (Well…as far as my days off corresponding with decent weather, that is—everything else has been almost oddly spectacular.) The weather, however…complete shit. I have been spending five days a week in the fly shop talking to other fishermen, offering opinions on rods and wading boots, selling flies hand over fist and occasionally glancing out the big windows overlooking Boulder and the foothills. Beautiful, sunny days…every one of the five days. Then I have two off—and the bowels of windy, cold and drizzling fly-fishing hell open up and engulf my weekend. It has made for some great Blue-Winged Olive hatches on the local streams, but I am a carp head at heart. I day dream of big tails flopping out of the mirror-smooth water like the dead man’s hand at the end of Deliverance. I fantasize at night about hot sun on endless mudflats. If I was a rich man I suppose I would roll in a nicer truck and spend my winters in places like Belize and the Bahamas. But I ain’t. Forget the champagne. Crack the seal of a Miller High Life…and tie carp flies on a rainy spring day.

And then, I could not take it anymore. My last day off was another miserable mess. Cold, muddy and raining—like March in the Mid-West. I had to do what I could to find feeding carp. I joined up with my friend, Cody (who just graduated from high school!) and we went on the hunt. The conditions were the worst…cool water with nearly zero viability… But we had one thing going for us: the public park we went to was vacant of people—too rotten for the fair-weather types. So, the carp that were normally skittish during the day (because of the kids and dogs and joggers bouncing about on shore) were in close and shallow. They were not overly active…but we were able to get flies in front of a few.

                                                 And, wadda ya know…

What WON'T eat a crayfish?

I can not think of a single freshwater game fish that won't eat a crayfish. The biggest brown trout in Boulder Creek, both large and small mouth bass, northern pike, wiper and carp. Often an injured, or startled crayfish is the biggest and easiest meal a fish can get. Two great fly patterns are Dave Whitlock's "Near Nuff" and Patrick Knackendoffel's "Mud Slider".

Both of these flies are tied heavy and with weight properly adjusted to keep the hook point riding up. This allows the fly to be fished slow and on the bottom without snagging easily.

Northern pike...get out of bed early!

As the spring wears on the local pike fishing will remain good...but it becomes more and more important that you get up early. The best fishing will almost always be in the first couple hours of daylight. The pike will be in very close to shore, in shallow water in coves and along thick walls of cattails. I will carefully push through the thick cattails until I have just enough access to the water to make a short cast, then flip the fly out right in front of me and give it a couple quick jerks. Often there is a pike right there and there is a good chance of a strike that would have been spoiled if I had rushed out into the open. Only once I have tested the water right in front of me will I move out of the cattails. The next two casts will be longer ones down each bank. Then I will begin fan casting in all directions. In the lower elevation pike lakes the water temps can start to raise quickly after the sun is up for a few hours...this will often push the larger pike out to deeper water. Also, with a lake that receives a lot of fishing pressure the pike will begin retreating to the depths after a few clumsy fishermen slosh by. So, again, get there early!

John Gierach Book Signing (May 28th)

No Shortage of Good Days at Rocky Mountain Anglers!

I discovered John Gierach when I was a teenager. I found a beat-up copy of Trout Bum in a cardboard box of fishing books stacked at one end of a sagging yellow couch in a cabin somewhere in Western Pennsylvania. I had been invited out to the cabin for a week of trout fishing with friends from school. I was full of young enthusiasm about the trip, as well as the still fairly new discovery of fly fishing. I had no friends that fly fished, and no local shops to help me acclimate. The friends who invited me to PA were bait fishermen—so I was hungry to enter any fly shop we passed, or peer at other fly fishermen I saw in the river. What were they doing? What kind of flies were they using? But the guy in the fly shop did his best to ignore me. (Didn’t help matters any that I was a kid…and those with me were asking if he sold meal worms.) And the guys on the river had no time for a scruffy kid in soggy gym shoes, even if he did have a fly rod. But, Mr. Gierach had the time. And he spoke the language I wanted to hear. He told wry stories of this place called Colorado and adventure stories on his home stream…the St. Vrain. It all seemed so foreign, mystical and far away. Because of these stories I fell forever in love with this sport. Not the way a conniving businessman “loves” his hot mistress on the other side of town—but a permanent, life-altering love. A passion. I left my hometown because of his stories. I quit lucrative jobs because of his stories. I ended a marriage because of his stories. I moved from state to state in search of something because of his stories. I became a writer because of his stories. I let everything not related to fly fishing in my life wither away on the vine…because of the stories of this grey-bearded man from Colorado.

Fast forward many, many years and miles and heartaches later…I was a working guide, instructor, fly designer and had even published my own book of fly fishing essays. I was having a few cold beers at a bar in Longmont, Colorado (on the bank of the St. Vrain, mind you!). There was an NFL playoff game on the big-screen TV above the bar. I was havin’ a good time…had just got off work at a local fly shop. I spin around on my stool to head for the latrine. And I run smack into John Gierach. I recognized him right off from dozens of inside dust cover photos.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m a big fan.”
“Thanks,” he said.
Then I took a piss. Can’t remember who won the football game.

I am lucky enough to know John better now. He hangs out at our shop from time to time. We talk flies and writing…women and life. But I have never told him how bad he has wrecked my life—because I think he already knows. If you have never had the chance to meet John Gierach, he will be here at Rocky Mountain Anglers in Boulder (303-447-2400) selling, signing and talking about his newest book No Shortage of Good Days. Sat. May 28th. From 11:00am 'till 1:00pm...and yes, there will be food grilling in the back!

Blossoms, Bass & Bellyaches

Mid May…it has not been a long winter here in Colorado, but it sure has been a drawn-out and suppressed spring. Driving to work in the mornings you can look along the road and almost feel summer trying to burst out of the flora like highly compressed acetylene. It is a cool and overcast Sunday…and everything is ready to pop!

The water temperature in most of the old gravel pits is hovering right about 57 degrees. It is cool and the sun is covered in a light grey frosting. The clarity is vodka in an ill-light bar. Baby bluegill scurry at any movement. The bass are lurking…and feeding!

A Bellyache Minnow swims by—wide eyed and scared! Darting, trying so hard to get back to the sanctuary of the newly formed beds of algae. TOO LATE! Ambushed by the hungry bass! Swallowed whole. Devoured. POW! But it was a trick! Straining hard on 3x tippet and limber fly rod…GOTCHA!

Two Bit Hookers (Hard To Hide From Family?)

This is the letter written to Fly Fisherman Magazine...in full.

"Yesterday, I was reading the Feb.-March issue, and on page 54 saw some good-looking flies. The name Two Bit Hooker bugged me, but it really hit home when my 10-year-old daughter asked me “Daddy, what’s a hooker?” I wasn’t ready to have this conversation, but I told her. She said, “That’s scary. Why did they name a fly after a hooker?”  I had no answer, except to say that someone thought it was funny. This is poor taste; and reflects something very ugly. It is not funny. I ask the editors, and the fly’s creator Charlie Craven, to do a bit of reflection. Are you married? Do you have daughters? Students? I do. Do you go around telling dirty jokes? I don’t. I entered adulthood years ago. Please clean up your thoughts, deeds, and actions, from the inside. Jokes like this make us look like boorish idiots." ~ Todd Harper, Saint Paul, Minnesota.

The Dirty Little Whore: See Nude Photos! Click Here!

Windknots asks: "My question to readers is this. Was this a breach of good taste?  Should a fly tier or fly fishing magazine be held to someone's standards to make up for a parent's lack of common sense and responsibility?" Follow the discussion.

Boat Fly Boxes

Spinney and Antero reservoirs have been open and fishing very well in the past couple weeks. Many of you have been out to one or the other and done well...or are planning a trip to your favorite lake soon. If you make a habit of lake fishing from a boat I highly recommend putting together a lake specific trout box to carry in your boat. Some time ago I observed Rob Kolanda organizing his boat box in preparation for another fly fishing competition...and I had to snap a couple photos. Impressive fly box! Here at the shop (Rocky Mountain Anglers) we have a good assortment of large boat fly boxes as well as a ton of good lake flies, to include many of Robs own patterns such as the Pandemic and BTS series.

Pegged Beads (And My Turmoil About Them)

This is a sensitive subject—the fly-fishing version of bringing up politics at a mixed family barbecue, or religion at the pub. The pegged egg. If you have no idea what I am talking about (congratulations!) you need not read any farther. Go about your day…and the rest of your enjoyable fishing life. But, if you know exactly what I am talking about, well…you most likely have an opinion on the subject. Probably a fairly strong, well-entrenched opinion. For those not in the know and not following my advise to look away…here is the low down. “Pegging an egg” is taking a plastic bead the size and color of a trout or salmon egg, threading it onto your leader and pegging it into place with a sliver of wooden toothpick—then tying on a bare hook. The idea is that the fish eats the “egg” and the act of setting the hook dislodges the pegged bead and slides the bare hook into the mouth of the fish…or at least the vicinity of the mouth. Spawning trout and salmon have a wicked desire to eat eggs, so this method is unbelievably effective. Although, it could be argued (and is by many) that this is just a creative way to “floss” spawning fish…or is just a thinly veiled form of snagging—often in the face and eye of the fish. Is it not snagging? Let me ask this: if you are drifting a two-fly dry/dropper rig and a trout rises to the dry, but misses it…and you hook the trout in the belly with the dropper nymph (this happens all the time)…is this not an accidentally snagged fish? Is this not the same thing? Or is the bare hook hanging menacingly behind the bead a very deliberate attempt to snag a fish? If so, should it be legal?

A close friend of mine claims there is no difference between a plastic bead threaded onto fishing line and a more conventional “fly” tied with some synthetic materials. I badly want to disagree with him…but I honestly don’t know the answer. I once won an argument in a fly shop with none other than legendary fly tier AK Best about a similar topic. He put forth the notion that something tied using anything other than natural fur and feather was not a true “fly”. My reply was simple—you tie on nothing but bone hooks, then…right? Nope? Metal hooks? OK, then… So, what is the definition of a fly? Does it have to be tied by hand? Does it have to have thread? When does it cross realms into the world of “lures”? Again…I honestly do not have the answer. There is a sea of grey and many animated opinions on the subject. But, one thing I do know for sure…if a classically-tied Jock Scott is on one end of the argument, the pegged egg is certainly on the exact opposite. And, if you peg beads on the river and feel you are still fly fishing…you have made a very clear personal statement declaring that the act of fly fishing has absolutely nothing to do with what you have tied to the end of your leader. The only remaining question is; if you skewer a night crawler onto a treble hook and heave it into a trout stream…with a fly rod…is that still considered fly fishing? Or is it actually bait fishing? Is it the rod in your hand or the object at the end of your line that defines you as a fly fisherman? Is a man fly fishing if he is using a spinning rod with a clear casting bubble and a fly? No, right? Again…is it the rod in your hand or the object at the end of your line that defines you as a fly fisherman? Or is it both?

Post Publish Analysis

As I predicted, this story has generated a lot of discussion. Perfect. I wanted all of us (as fishermen) to think about this topic and have an intelligent conversation about it. It is important and very topical. There are several states intending to ban the practice very soon. The argument has gone on here in blog form as well as Facebook, and in the fly shop and at home... I have spoken to many hard-core bead peggers, as well as some of the more respected fly designers in the world...and some of the Old Guard fly fishermen. The conversations seemed to gravitate to three different topics, the first two being: What constitutes a fly? And, what constitutes a fly rod? It became apparent early that most fishermen considered fly fishing something that must be done with a fly rod at one end and a fly at the other—but then, semantics entered the ring! The argument about what a fly rod is, well, that one was fairly easy. Most fishermen are willing to agree on a fairly broad description of what a fly rod is. The difference between a fly and a lure? Now that generated some debate. The general consensus was that if it is tied, it is a fly…molded or formed (i.e. glue gun egg) then it was considered a lure. Half of each? Generally accepted as a fly—benefit of the doubt, I guess? But, the ONLY fishermen who thought a plastic bead was a fly was…well, no one. The retort I got from the Bead Fishermen was sort of defensive. Some attempted to put a plastic bead into the same category as a fly that incorporates a touch of foam or synthetic flash—a logic I have a hard time following, even in my open-minded state. This logic kind of insinuates that an eight-inch jointed Rapala could be called a fly—WTF? So, the conclusion (for now) is that bead pegging is not fly fishing! OK. Not that big of deal. Most of us have spent a portion of our fishing life as a “conventional gear” fisherman already anyway. Most state fishing regulations are exactly the same for both styles. No Bait—Flies & Artificial Lures Only. Artificial lures…I guess that’s you guys, Beaders. Again, no big deal!

Then the conversation got heated. The third question everyone migrated to was: Is it snagging? This one sort of makes the fist two questions a bit moot, don’t ya think? The self-proclaimed Beaders in the room did some very odd, but creative mental gymnastics to separate what they were doing from the illegal act of “snagging”—frantic semantic scrambling is a better way to put it. The argument degenerated/evolved into one party offering up hypothetical scenarios and the other party attempting to categorize it as Snagging, Foul Hooking (apparently the accidental form of the deliberate act of Snagging) and Fair Practice. If you are fishing a two-fly dry/dropper rig and a trout rises to the dry, but misses it…and you hook the trout in the belly with the dropper nymph? Unanimously…Foul Hooked. Now, let us say you are fishing Gunnison Canyon during the big stonefly hatch. Your rig is a big #6 Soffa Pillow dry…with the hook clipped off! Presumably to make it look more natural on the surface of the water. And you have somehow rigged a bare treble hook a foot or so behind it. When a 20 inch brown trout takes the dry fly the fisherman yanks back…. OK, ya getting the point?

My own conclusion is logical and unarguably simple. If you fool a fish into willingly taking your disguised hook into its mouth…you are “angling”. If you force a hook into a fish…you are “snagging”. If you purposely distance the hook away from the “lure” object in which you are fishing (be it two feet or two inches)…and then pull the hook into the fish once it has taken the “lure’…then you are still snagging fish. I guess most laws have just not caught up with our conniving technology…

Quality of Life...(Yes, Mine)

Not enough can be said for the importance of ones own "Quality of Life". I can not articulate a discription of the past six months in my own life...without it sounding gloating. They may be the most enjoyable and rewarding months of my life. I recently left a less-than-desirable job. Sure, we have all had to bare this unpleasantness a few times in our lives... greedy, inconsiderate employers and a generally toxic work environment. It can make you ornery, snarky and just suck all your energy and passion. But things have been going my way, as of late. I am now six months into my (hopefully long-term!) tenure at Rocky Mountain Anglers. The fly shop itself is only a year into new ownership...and the vibe here is very enthusiastic and optimistic! I am now a respected part of a very close-knit and talented crew. I can not express how fun it is to work for a company that appreciates what you bring to the table...and side-by-side with other guys who I can learn something from. I have been part of the local fly fishing industry for many years, but am now one of the lucky few who actually loves coming into work every morning! (There may, also be some truth to the other rumor about the source of my recent cheery attitude...!) 

Come in sometime, or give me a call!
Rocky Mountain Anglers
1904 Arapahoe Ave.
303-447-2400

Upcoming Events:
Introduction to Fly Fishing Class: May 15th 9am—1pm ($80)
Customer Gear “Swap Day” May 21st (Click Here for More Info!)
John Gierach Book Signing! May 28th
Introduction to Fly Fishing Class: May 29th 9am—1pm ($80)

Also...check out or new Shop T-Shirts! New "Colorado Trout Flag" designed by our own guide and artist, Garrison Doctor!