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!

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.

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.

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.

Temptations

I couldn't help it: temptation raged inside me like a violent winter sea.  A new Rascal Flatts song played on the radio.  The lyrics "You gotta go deep, way on back, cross a few creeks, and a couple little shacks... You gotta get lost, way on out!" were belted out as proudly as can be, and my judgement finally surrendered as my desires broke loose, resembling a pack of wild dogs running for freedom (figuratively speaking of course).  I speedily cruised the winding hills of the far reaches of Fort Collins, gradually building up anxiety as the river entered my plane of sight. 

Similar to the undisturbed focus of a child perusing the walls of a candy store, my dedicated mind drove every action as I dodged the punches of my only enemy: the clock.  My waders were on and layers assembled before my lousy opponent could bother to reach minute five; a tremendous personal accomplishment for 7:30 in the morning on a sunday.  Rods had been rigged throughout the week: a product of fishing almost every day after school.  A trusty wooden net was strapped to my waist as I descended upon the section of water, hoping for the best.  Scanning the surface and its structure below, it didn't take long for my tired brain to realize what was transpiring before my eyes.  Bicyclists stared in wonderment as I jumped up and down in celebration of the midge hatch (admit it ~ you've done it too), bringing seemingly every fish in the river to the glassy surface.  

Approaching stealthily, a single riser attracted my attention, and a few quick casts produced a wily brown trout: something that would become common throughout the day.  Glaring at me as the hook that pinned him tightly to my tippet was removed, I carefully set him free to continue feasting himself on the buffet of midges now drifting down the delicately flowing river.  Continuing upstream, one rising fish after another was targeted, and as the hours drew by, several willing fish were brought to hand.  Time after time, the low-riding dry fly danced elegantly amongst the complex currents, only to be rudely (but welcomely) interrupted by the tug of a hungry fish below.

If you look closely behind the gill plate, you can see the scratches from where this little guy almost became a snack...

By high noon, fish began to descend into the depths of the abyss, and my satisfied self returned happily to the car.  "Take that, clock" I muttered under my breath, slowly removing my cold waders, and leisurely placing my gear back into the trunk.  I had all the time in the world it seemed, and it had been a good day.  Every once in awhile you have those day where everything just happens to go right, and while this was not exactly one of those days, it was pretty close.  

Got Parachute's?

This is a great little video of my great friend and mentor Vincent Su tying one of his parachute patterns on the 720 Vice... Check it out!

Vincent Su Parachute 11/21/09 from Juan Ramirez on Vimeo.

Old Favorites

I know, I know, most of you have seen the zebra midge more times than you can remember.  It is a super simple little pattern, and for how common it is, it catches fish.  Anyways, give this one a shot!

My Dream Trip...

Red Like Winter: the Trailer from Waterline Media on Vimeo.