Crazy? No Way...

The howling of the wind against the cold exterior seemed to grow continually louder. Frost covered every window of the car, blocking visibility completely. I searched for more warmth in my sleeping bag, only to engage in a losing battle with the cold. Upon turning the key, the strong, old engine came to life, providing heat and comfort. The temperature gauge read 33 degrees, but the weather app indicated that it was 12 degrees with windchill. To say that it was tough to get up and out of the heated car would be an understatement. Slowly, we managed to add layer-after-layer of clothing, before finally putting on our frozen waders, still wet from yesterday. With every twist of the clinch knot came decreased feeling in my fingers. The wind burned as it singed my exposed cheeks, and the water would freeze my legs beyond comfort after only ten minutes. However, big fish lurked below the water's surface, and those big fish were our goal.

Again, we began the process of casting tirelessly, hoping that the monster fish of our dreams would pick up our offering on the next cast. Cast, retrieve. Cast, retrieve. This same routine, all day. Taking rotations was necessary, as one person would warm up while the other fished. We would get a small tug or bump here and there, but nothing wanted to commit it seemed. As the day progressed, the bumps got a little more solid, though still nothing had committed 100%.

Lunch time yielded hot coffee and ramen noodles, both of which were a very welcoming addition to my frozen body. Each gulp of coffee warmed me from top to bottom, and the warm mug provided comfort to my hands, which were numb. It made me question why I was out there, freezing my a*s off for a bunch of fish, but looking off into the distance at the windblown water, I knew that I had to keep going; I had to get that big fish.

After awhile, it was back to the water. Again, the process resumed. Cast, retrieve, rotate. The bumps and hits were becoming a lot more aggressive. Both of us kept getting increasingly excited, when just like that, the hit that we'd been waiting for arrived. The fish voraciously attacked the massive streamer, and it was game on. Running, jumping, and trying to wrap the line around any underwater object that it could, the fish battled with nothing less than all that it had. Thankfully for us, we were able to win this battle, scooping the fine specimen into the net as it began to tire out. It was a sight for sore eyes -- a gorgeous brown trout. The fish provided smiles and laughter, and a weird kind of warmth that seemed better than any heater.

Both of us relaxed, knowing that we had gotten what we came for. Countless casts yielded fine fish, and many pictures to take home. It's amazing what we do for these fish; call it crazy, but it's an amazing feat every time we get to put such a creature in the net.

Let's try this again...

Needless to say, it's been awhile. Between all of the joyous things that accompany preparing for college, and now being a full-time college student, I'll be the first to admit that I don't have much in the way of free time. I've had at least one exam (sometimes two or three), every week since September 29th. I bring home an average of 4-6 hours of homework per night. Get the point? Yeah, free time is hard to come by.

Having said all of this, I want to start fresh, if you will. It's been a long time since my last post on here, and I guess you could say that I kind of miss it. I love the ability to write about my adventures in the amazing sport of fly fishing, and as I sit here at my fly tying table during Thanksgiving break, I couldn't help but think about writing another post.

I suppose it's not exactly an opportune time to get things rolling again, seeing as I now live in Wyoming, where nearly every bit of water is now frozen solid. However, I have plenty of fairly recent stories to tell from before my move to Wyoming, many of which include some rather nice fish. So, without further ado...

It was a blustery day to say the least. Upon our arrival, it was evident that the water was significantly lower now than ever before, and that fishing might be a bit challenging. Staring through the cracks in the windshield, the ultimate decision was to be made. Water so cold that you can only manage to stand in it for five minute periods, howling winds, and, in simplest terms, not much water to work with all presented us with a tough choice. However, we hadn't driven this far to turn back around, so I'll be damned if we didn't give it our best go.

Now, I'm sure you can already see where this is going. We sat there and fished our hearts out for hours on end. Cast after cast, nothing wanted to cooperate. We would change flies incessantly, assuring ourselves that with each change of the fly, our chances of catching a monster would increase. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. In fact, it seemed that changing flies was having an opposite affect. Nonetheless, we continued. As the sun began to sink, we were beat. Casting heavy streamers on fly rods similar in stiffness to telephone poles all day had taken its toll.

Here is where the classic, "last cast of the day" comes into play. As the sun set further behind the mountains, I suddenly felt a tug on the end of my line; something I had been waiting for all day. Upon setting the hook, it was noted in my mind that this fish was no pushover. Runs that made my drag scream also mad my heart race and before long, he lay in the bottom of my net, admitting defeat. The fish turned out to be my biggest trout to date ~ an accomplishment that I always enjoy achieving. After quick photos and a hasty release, neither of our hands could handle the bitter windchill any longer, signaling the end of the day. It was a promising event, and one that would lead to a stellar day of fishing come daybreak.... Stay tuned for the rest of the story!

Photo by Forrest Carpenter

Summer.

Summer. It's a busy time for most of us, filled with long days at work, with little allowance for free time. So, when the opportunity arose to spend a weekend camping with my friend Trevor, as well as with my brother, I couldn't let it pass me by. We enjoyed hotdogs over the grill, lots of laughs, and plenty of fish. 

Trevor managed his first fish on the fly, and then proceeded to catch many more eager little bass. I, on the other hand, used some time to pursue carp, and succeeded a couple of times. Here are some pictures from the weekend... Enjoy!

Decent sized Common!

Trevor's first fish on the fly

Second Carp...

Riding High

The Reaper

This week's pattern comes from the creative mind of Mike Schmidt over at Angler's Choice Flies. The pattern presents a large profile in the water, and draws highly aggressive grabs from big fish. Dig out some hooks and get tying!

It's been awhile

It's interesting how things can consume one's life. For myself, school has been the consumer of my life as of late. As those that actually pay attention to my site have probably noticed, my posting activity has been minimal since August. Oddly enough, August marks the first month of school. At any rate, I have just enough time to post a few pictures from the last few months of fishing before my next class starts. 

I managed to do some guiding this summer too, the above pictures are of a particularly special trip. It was my first ever trip out with paying clients... One could say it was a good day.

Forrest, a good friend and mentor of mine, asked me to help him out with getting his first carp. So... we did exactly that. Forrest, I can't thank you enough for putting up with my annoying questions, and teaching me all that you know about both fishing, and hunting.

Of course, I had to catch a few myself...

Grayling got checked off of my to-do list finally...

Most beautiful fish of the summer

My good friend Quinn with an eager mouse/gigantic caddis eating brown.

High country hiking and fishing were a must...

And of course what would pictures be without a fish of the summer. This beast of a common wins the award for big fish of the summer by far.

So, to those that enjoy reading/viewing my site, I apologize for the lack of activity, just know that if school wasn't consuming my life, I would be posting every single day. "Like" Fins on the Fly on Facebook, and keep reading!

Mike Schmidt's Red Rocket

The Chub Hatch

Articulated Butt Monkey

Addiction at its Finest

As a student, I constantly hear the saying "you learn something new every day."  For Forrest Carpenter, a good friend of mine, this day would exemplify the above statement more than perfectly.  

Fly fishing for carp is, in my opinion, one of the fastest growing sectors of our beloved sport.  What was once thought of as a "trash fish" is quickly becoming the most addicting tug in the industry.  The incredible wittiness of these fish drives anglers like myself to insanity trying to hook them, only to have all that frustration thrown out the window as soon as the higher pitches of your reel are reached with each screaming run.

It started with a phone call from Forrest saying that he was up in Fort Collins, and wanting to catch some fish.  When asked if he had ever landed a carp on the fly, his answer was rather straight forward: "No, but I'd like to change that today!"  With that, it was game on....

....And the game was played. With one rejection after another, and countless curse words, we struggled to hook fish.  Approaching a submerged stump, we noticed a large tail sticking out of the water just past it.  Tying on my signature damsel pattern, I gave Forrest the green light, and he dropped the fly just past the fish, dragging it right in front of him.  Stopping, the fish inspected the offering carefully before flaring his gills to inhale the meal.  "Set it!" was all I had to say and Forrest was deep into battle with his first carp.  Minutes later, he held his sloppy prize up for the camera.  Watching as the fish swam back to it's muddy home, Forrest reveled in his new found addiction.

The same scenario replayed itself once again as Forrest hauled in a stud of a grass carp, successfully landing both of the major species in one day.  

This guy really wanted my fly, believe it or not he is still hooked in this picture.

I couldn't let you think Forrest caught the only fish...

BWO BDE

Here is an excellent little Blue Winged Olive pattern tied by Ben Furimsky.  The BDE will hold up two tungsten droppers without any problems!  Tie a few up!

It's that time again...

We are starting to see an increase in the number of Baetis on the rivers nowadays.  Not a thick hatch yet, but it will come!  In preparation, tie a few of these up, they won't let you down!

Fossil Fish Slam!

NORTHERN COLORADO ANGLERS!

Fossil Ridge Fly fishing Club is going to be holding a fly-fishing only tournament at the swift ponds on saturday, April 28th to raise funds for the club.

First and second place prizes are T.L. Johnson fly rods worth $300 each and third place is a box of several dozen warm water bugs tied by Several local tiers. There will be a raffle, a barbecue, and more fishing than you can handle! 

The swift ponds are normally off limits to the public and have some of the best warm water fishing in Northern Colorado! This is a truly unique opportunity! The cost is $20 for general admission, or $25 if you want a T-Shirt with the logo below on it! If you need some more info, want to buy a ticket or volunteer feel free to contact me via facebook or send me an email at jake_ruthven@hotmail.com. 

We are limited to accepting 50 anglers and spots are filling up fast!

Silenced Observations

Waltzing amongst the multitude of swirling currents and taunting greedy predators below, it didn't take long for the single dry fly to become the target of a wily brown trout.  I watched as a mouth appeared from below, and in a fraction of a second, the synthetic offering attached to the end of my line sat firmly embedded in the corner of the unsuspecting trout's mouth.  Shaking his head in disapproval, the fish soon succumbed to the resistance of my tippet, unaware that all I desired was a picture before releasing him to fight another day.

I watched appreciatively as the trout regained stability, and swiftly slipped through my fingers as it hurriedly swam for the security of the depths.  Refocusing my uninterrupted attention on the slow moving run, I watched.  Not moving, not casting, just... watching.  Minutes passed, when a small dimple caught the attention of my peripheral vision.  The fish sat farther downstream in the slowest moving part of the run... A rather tough position to get to on my part.  Knowing that the fish would have all the time he needed to evaluate my imitation, my fears of cruel rejection combatted my willingness.  This was just a fish... yet it worried me more than being denied by any good looking girl.  

So, I removed to beaten little fly from its secure spot on my hook keeper, and crouched on the bank as I prepared to cast, knowing that my fate awaited.  I knew I would have one cast at this fish before he retreated to the depths, so it was now or never.  Emotions roaring inside of me, I dropped the fly 2 feet upstream of the trout's lie, and quickly laid a mend in the line.  Watching, watching, watching, surely I had already drifted over him, but some weird internal sense was screaming at me to keep the fly on the water.  It seemed I couldn't bring myself to cast again, I was going to get something on the first drift.

As if being summoned by the fish gods, a lazy brown appeared behind my fly, and as slowly as physically possible, he engulfed the fly gracefully. Resisting every urge to set the hook, I waited until he disappeared, and smoothly raised the rod.  Fighting valiantly, the educated trout dove underneath branches and rocks, making every attempt to break the 7x tippet.  Eventually the resistance proved superior, and he slid calmly into the deep bag of my net.  I had succeeded, a feeling that could be unparalleled by seemingly any other happening.  

I relished in my achievement, and knew that I could now call it a day.  Striding confidently away from the river, I felt on top of the world...  What a day.

Kamchatka

Words can't even describe how badly I wish to go here...
Eastern Rises | teaser from felt soul media on Vimeo.

Tak's Go2 prince

Rick Takahashi is a well known local expert famous for his many fly patterns.  Here is a video of Rick tying his signature GO2 Prince nymph; and incredibly deadly fly year round.  Tie a few up, and give them a shot!


The Go 2 Prince Nymph from Juan Ramirez on Vimeo.

Riding High

This is one of my favorite shorts of all time.  The cinematography is superb, and the fishing isn't bad either... Check it Out!



Riding High: A Season on the Fly from Waterline Media on Vimeo.

Sunburns and Dry Flies

Tiredly I ran up the stairs hurrying to answer the phone call that was causing my obnoxious ringtone to sing as loud as it could.  I answered with a sloppy "hello" as I sat staring out the window using all the internal strength I had to peel my delicate eyelids apart from each other after a long nights sleep.  It was my great friend and mentor Steve Thrapp, asking if I could meet him at the river in twenty minutes.  Despite still wearing my shorts and crinkled T-shirt, and my hair being strewn in every which direction, I agreed, and the usual routine began.  I managed to piece together a decent array of clothing from what I had laying around my room, and before I knew it, I was headed out the door.  Thankfully, I keep all of my rods rigged and ready in the back of my car, so I could be on my way quickly.  Before I could take off, my dad reminded me to grab food and a drink.. something I often forget.

Upon arrival at the water,  I slid on my waders and boots, and as Steve pulled up, we shook hands and exchanged our latest fishing tales.  Chatting as we approached the water, one look down river revealed hundreds of rising fish throughout the many riffles and pools.  We split up, and began targeting fish as best we could.  After roughly an hour, I had only tempted a single fish, and Steve had raised a few others with none landed.  Frustrated, we headed upriver in search of other (hopefully) willing fish.

As Steve roped in one fish after another, I sat and watched a single rainbow as she fed rigorously in the heart of a shallow riffle.  I couldn't believe how intently she was feeding, as her mouth opened roughly every three seconds.  Rigged with a dry - dropper, I made a cast to the fish, and to my surprise, she took the midge dropper on the first drift.  The fight lasted roughly 30 seconds, and the fish soon laid at the bottom of my net.  After pictures, I carefully released the beautiful fish to fight another day.

For how rigorously this fish was feeding, she was awful thin!

Trekking further and further down-river, we finally found more fish, and Steve really began to teach them a lesson.  Steve has been and still is one of my greatest mentors, and he has taught me much about what I know today.  Every time I am able to fish with Steve I learn a ton, and it is always amazing to watch him as he dissects the water, and brings several fish to hand.  Steve is also the creator of the PIOPod, sold by Fishpond, and his care for the environment shows with every outing.  With seemingly every cast, Steve hooked up, and over the course of roughly 30 minutes, Steve landed a myriad of different fish.

As the sun began to set, we tried one last stretch, only hoping for a good fish.  Cast after cast produced nothing, until I managed to hook up with a decent rainbow as I swung the flies through the current.  After an intense battle,  I hoisted the fish for pictures, and released it swiftly to its watery home.

Colors!

Sunburnt and tired,  I had to call it a day, and as we removed our waders, Steve and I shook hands before leaving.  With plans to do it again soon, we went our separate ways, and headed towards home.  It had been a tough day on the water (for me at least), but hey, I was glad to have gotten out. 

The Swimming Baetis...

Al Ritt is a widely known individual amongst the fly fishing/fly tying community.  He ties beautiful flies, and effectively imitates many different insects with his patterns.  Here, Al is tying his "swimming baetis", a pattern that I have come to love so far this spring.  A simple tie, I encourage all of you to give it a shot!

Al's Swimming Baetis from Juan Ramirez on Vimeo.

Monster Brown

Words can't even describe this fish...  I realize that most of you have already seen this, but hey, at least it'll help make the work day go by a little faster.

Matt Heron Reels in a Gigantic Brown Trout from Filmed In Tahoe on Vimeo.