Colorado Gems

The ferocious wind howled as it dove between tree branches and hovered across the water's surface.  High hopes were gradually reduced to actualization as tippet fluttered every which way in the myriad of wind currents, making it nearly impossible to attach flies to my line.  But we couldn't give up, we had to at least give it a shot!  

Upstream, Sanders stood knee-deep in a run dropping his rig in front of countless risers.  Before we could even say "hey" and shake hands, Sean angled his rod backwards, and was set into a quality brown.  I assumed the position of net-man, and after a hard fought battle, we had a beauty of a brown in the net.  Pictures and fist bumps followed, and the beautiful creature was then released back to its chilled home.

Sanders' Brown... Like 5 minutes into the day

"Damn Sanders... not even a minute into the day you have a fish in the net?  I gotta quit fishing with you!" I said jokingly as my dad hopped into the river in hopes of bringing the next riser to hand.  As sanders and I sat clumsily re-rigging, my dad started working a single rising fish.  Cast after cast was rudely ignored by the picky fish, until finally the dry was attacked from below.  "Got him!" he yelled as he raised the rod slightly, sending the frightened fish into an astonishing fit of headshakes. Minutes later the tired little fish was slid into my dad's hands as he hoisted it proudly for the camera.  After a swift release, we proceeded up-river in search of a few more willing eaters.

As my fingers slowly lost feeling, I barely managed to finish assembling my rig, cinching down the last knot as quickly as possible.  The wind battled my balance as if I was being pushed over by a ghost of some sort.  Leaning into the powerful storm, I speedily laid down a cast on the water's surface.  Watching intently as the flies drifted downstream, I reacted immediately to the feel of a fish on the line.  A smooth lift of the rod produced a nice cutbow, and as I released the fish to call it a day, sanders yelled out requesting help on the net.

Sanders' Last Fish of the day... 

Shivering violently, I netted Sean's fish, and after quick pictures, I hurried back to the car in search of heat.  the radio came to life as the engine hummed, and warm air gradually brought the feeling back to my frigid fingers.  It was awesome to fish with Sanders (as usual) but I was really happy to have gotten my dad out on the water again, and watch the smile run across his face with each hook-up.  As we sped towards home, I couldn't help but think of how lucky us Coloradoans are to live in such a beautiful place.  As my mind expanded on this thought, I watched as the fiery orange sun nestled itself to bed for the night behind the purple mountains that Colorado is so well known for. "This has gotta be the good life" I muttered under my breath as a smile came across my face.

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.

Stopwatch Offerings

"One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, four mississippi... there he is"  My mind spoke quietly as I timed the gap between each rise-form.  Though the surface was boiling with risers, I would target only one at a time, hoping for success.  

A small black parachute was drawn tightly to the hair thin piece of tippet, and a minuscule drop of floatant accompanied the soon to be meal.  As the fish rose again and again every four seconds, I sat, kneeled in the river, doing my best to get the fly in front of the fish on the fourth second.  Presentation after presentation, the fly escapes the fish's grip by a mere second.  As if the trout is snickering at me, his mouth appears once again, and a flick of the tail is given as he descends back into the water column.  One last attempt must be made I think to myself, and without hesitation, the fly is dropped inches upstream of the fish.  "One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, four mississippi... " I watch intensely as the miniature fly drifts toward the awaiting mouth.  What had been the longest four seconds of my life suddenly came to a swift end as the head of a fish broke the surface, gently sipping in the tiny dry fly.  Twists, turns, and small, half-hearted runs followed immediately after the hook set, and a short time later the small brown trout was brought to hand.  "Nice Fish" hollered another angler as I carefully returned the fine specimen to its watery living room.

Quieting my emotions temporarily, I set my sights on the next riser, positioned immediately upstream of the previous victim.  I counted again between each rise-from, this time glad to be given a fifteen second gap.  I knew that with a considerably larger gap of time, I could hook the fish easier, and so the first cast was dropped onto the water.  Cast after cast I was beginning to question my theory, when finally a nose showed itself through the glistening surface.  Jumping twice, the fish quickly lost energy, and came tiredly to hand for pictures and a swift release.

Last fish of the day had been chewed on a bit...

The process repeated again one last time, and as the sun began to drop behind the mountains, I decided to call it a day, knowing that my parents would soon start wondering what had happened to me.  I threw all the gear in the back, and drove off into the sunset, blaring the country music.

The Ice Pick

This is a really cool streamer pattern that is especially effective during runoff.  Its bright coloring makes it highly visible in the water, and the rabbit strips add some bulk for a larger profile.  A super simple fly to tie, I encourage you to give it a shot!

Midges and Meat

Swing by Charlie's Fly Box in Arvada tomorrow, February 18th, for a little fun at the tying bench!  I will be hosting the Saturday morning demo, and look forward to seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd, as well as meeting a myriad of new friends.  I will be twisting up everything from midges to streamers, so don't miss out on a chance to learn a few new tricks.  The demo will run from 11 'till 1, and more details can be found here!

I look forward to seeing all of you there!

Dungeon Time

Here's a video of Brian Wise tying my favorite streamer pattern of all time... Enjoy!

Monday Movie ~ Ed Engle Style

Second Chance from Samuel Ebersole on Vimeo.

Shellshocked Adventure

The stage was set - snowy weather, sunny skies, and a plan to meet at 9:30 that morning by the river.  As the brakes squealed and both cars came to rest, anticipation hovered above like fog, and friendly handshakes were exchanged as Sanders and I shivered violently in the frosty morning air.

Slightly torn waders and trusty wading boots were slid onto my frozen body, and an overflowing hip pack was strapped to my waist as it tightly hugged the over-sized wooden net also known as the 'Pig Stick'.  Worn laces were cinched tight, and a few weapons for the day were selected from the diligently organized rows of my fly boxes. The moistened knots were then drawn tight, securing the meal courses to the tippet.

Approaching the water, flows became a concern whether we said it or not, but determination drove us forward without looking back.  A mere fifteen minutes into the day, I dropped to my knees as I screamed "Holy S**t Sanders, We got a 25 inch fish right here!"  What usually spans the course of 20-30 minutes of presentations took only a single cast as the fish turned without hesitation to slam the easy meal.  A smooth lift of the rod resulted in intense runs, but after around 45 seconds the big male brown was brought to net, and we both stared in disbelief.  The colors were astonishing, and my day had been made.  After a series of photos, and a dramatic increase in morale, the beautiful fish was released, and we knew that Sanders' turn would come next.

4.5 pound brown

My best Brown to date!

Continuous searching resulted in few fish, so a swift decision was made to proceed to the next area, giving us a shot at different fish.  Rods were loaded into the cars, and off we went.  Upon arrival, it appeared that every person in Fort Collins had decided to try fly fishing that day, seeing as there were exactly two spots left in the lot.  Crowded water resulted in minimal fishing, but as fellow anglers left whistling the signature Super Bowl anthem, space became plentiful.

As the afternoon midge hatch entered full swing, a single fisherman sat perched right in the heart of the action.  Sean and I tried above him, and quickly brought three fish to hand.  Frustrated, the man left the perch, giving us a shot at a few fish.  A single rise was spotted and after a few refined presentations, the dry fly was slowly tugged under, and what seemed like a 12 inch stocker at first suddenly showed itself as an 17 inch cutbow thrashing below the surface.  Directing the fight while chest deep in the river with the net, I watched as Sean bravely battled the fish.  A few minutes later, the chance presented itself, and the gorgeous fish was scooped into the net.  Sean's face lit up like a kid in a candy store - an image I will never forget.  Sean proudly hoisted his biggest trout from this particular watershed, and after many pictures, the camera-friendly cutbow was carefully released. 

Sanders with his gorgeous cutbow!

Poor guy's jaw was ripped up...

Favorite pic of the trip

 What had been my best day on the water so far this year came to an end with handshakes and talk of the next outing.  Sanders is a great guy, and I could tell he learned a lot about the river that day.  Check out Sanders' blog here!

To Sanders - that was a badass day dude.... we are definitely going out again soon!  This time though, we have to try and beat the fish from this trip... ha!

Frozen Fun!

Smiles leaped forward from the crowd, and laughs hovered about the room as Casey Dunnigan diligently placed the whip finish over the head on his signature "PMD Panty Dropper".  The crowd, including Rick Takahashi, stared in awe at the beautiful creation, while Casey sat confidently offering tips on being successful with this pattern.  Enthralled with the never ending line of beautiful patterns, the crowd didn't want to leave despite the demo being over the official "time-limit".  Casey's demos are always beneficial, and if you haven't yet, track him down at his next venue and get there early because it will get crowded!  So, when the streak of excellence in demonstration came to an end, I greeted Casey with a handshake, and an invitation to fish the Poudre with me that afternoon.  "Sure," responded Casey, "but not without lunch first!" 

To the local Asian grill it was, and the four of us we enjoyed an excellent lunch that would fulfill us for the day, as well as a load of stories from Rick Takahashi himself.   Stuffed, the two of us headed north in search of the Poudre, and a few willing targets.  After speedily assembling our gear and dressing out in our waders, we began the trek through knee deep snow.  Two miniature meals were dropped below a single, elegantly tied dry fly.  As if rocks were being tossed into the water, fish were slashing at the surface continually.  Miniscule midges skated across the glassy surface, teasing trout before flight.  A single rise appeared, and the rig was presented delicately upstream of the trout.  Slowly drifting along, the small dry fly was suddenly pulled under, and a smooth raising of the rod on Casey's part produced highly energetic runs across the current.  Minutes later, the willing silvery cutbow came to hand - Casey's first fish on the Poudre - on his first cast.

Casey Dunnigan

Repeating the same motions as before, Mr. Dunnigan continued to work his magic, eventually bringing a beautifully spotted brown to hand.  Anxious to get a tug, the obnoxious streamer secured to my line was unbuttoned from the hook keeper, and a single downstream cast was sloppily made.  As the large fly swung through the current, the line began to swim away, and the strip set was applied.  Diving every which way, the gorgeous brown trout eventually surrendered for pictures, and was swiftly released back to the icy waters that it called home.

Not huge, but super pretty!

As the glowing winter sun tucked itself away behind the majestic purple mountains of Colorado, our chilled breath lingered as we reeled in the weapons and called it a day.  Frozen waders and boots came slowly but surely off of our frigid bodies, and the engine hummed as we drove off into the Colorado sunset.

Big Nasties

School got canceled for whatever reason today, so I decided to mess around a bit, and tie up a few big streamers for the weekend's festivities to come.....

...Work in progress...

Workday Entertainment...

Tuesday Tie

This is a great little pattern created by the illustrious Jay Zimmerman.  I fish this deep as a caddis larva this time of year, and unweighted just below the surface when the caddis are popping.  Check it out!

Fly Fishermen...

This is a great little vid put together by the guys down at RMA fly shop.  With all the classic questions, phrases, and sayings, this production is spot on with what a lot of fly fishermen say.  Enjoy!

Flies and Lies

Like coffee, fly tying, and fishing stories?  Come on down to the Laughing grizzly fly shop tomorrow, January 28th and grab a seat for my tying demo!  The demo will be pretty random as far as flies are concerned.  I will be tying everything from midges to streamers, so don't miss out!  The guys down at laughing grizzly are always great to be around, and will be sure to make you laugh.

 For directions to the shop, click here!

Clear Solutions

As we all know, the sport of fly fishing evolves in colossal amounts with the introduction of each new year ~ whether it be a new rod that "beats all others", or a new fly tying material, we are constantly being blessed with new innovations.  Over the past few years, it seems as though UV curing resins have been the source of attention in the fly tying world, with replacing epoxy being the sole purpose behind many creations.  There was loon knot sense, and many more.  Having minimal success with these, I gave up on the UV fad.....until Clear Cure Goo came along.  

Clear Cure Goo has been the source of talk amongst tiers lately, earning a respectable reputation.  Interested, I decided to give some of this 'goo' a try.  After experimenting a bit, and playing with the material's properties, I have to say that I am rather impressed.  

For a UV resin, this stuff is strong.  It adheres nicely to any material, and stays strong while clinging all the materials together.  What I particularly like about this material is that it doesn't cloud.  You can scuff the cured goop with scissors, scrape it on rocks, etc. and it won't scratch or chip.  It also cures fully with just the UV light, so you won't have to bake your flies in the sun anymore.

While there is nothing that will ever surpass epoxy in terms of overall strength (in my opinion), Clear Cure Goo does an amazing job of getting things done, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in simplifying this aspect of fly tying.

Check out their site here!

Tuesday Tie

This week, I have chosen a pattern tied by the guys down at CO Skies Outfitters.  I have really been interested in tubes lately, and this fly is an excellent little pattern that is simple and effective. So without further ado, I present to you the Marabou Tube!

Tuesday Tie ~ Mercury Blood Midge

The Mercury Blood Midge is an excellent little midge pattern that has proven deadly for winter time trout.  I fish this pattern quite often, and the results are almost always outstanding.  So, without further ado, the mercury blood midge!

Materials List

-Hook: TMC 200R, size 18-22

-Thread: 8/0 Red UNI

-Bead: Mercury glass

-Rib: Small UTC Copper Wire
-Abdomen: Tying Thread

-Thorax: Peacock Herl

Beef Jerky and Soda

Glancing over the cold metal rails of a small footbridge, I observed intently as three decent rainbows sat idling in the current, munching on anything that came their way.  The air was frigid, but the heat of determination could be felt from a mile away; whether we said it or not.  

Back at the car, I slid on my trusty old waders, and the worn laces of my boots were cinched tight as the excitement built inside of me.  A few feet of hair thin tippet were unwound from the spool, and two synthetic snacks were selected from the foam slots of my fly box.  The wind howled as the knots were delicately fastened to the eyes of each hook, and two small split shot were clamped to the over priced piece of line known as a leader.  Once rigged, my trusty hip pack was strapped around my waist, and my net was held between the straps of the pack and my jacket as I set out in search of my first fish of the new year.

Returning to the bridge, I zeroed in on one small rainbow, and elegantly placed the rig in front of him.  As the flies drifted effortlessly through the current, the line drew tight, and the small rainbow was ushered towards my awaiting hands. 

As the day progressed, Many beautifully colored fish were brought to hand, and the winds howled in celebration.  Time after time, we would watch as the hungry fish moved to the side, claiming our artificial offerings as their own.  As the line was drawn tight, the fit of lazy headshakes would begin, and eventually the fish would come tiredly to hand.  With swift releases, the small creatures were free to return to the frigid waters that served as home.  

In the aquarium

Colors!

Most uniquely colored rainbow I have ever seen

Weirdest looking brown I have ever seen

Dennis Martin with a nice brown

Last fish of the day!

After awhile, the small midges attached to my line were slowly depreciating in quality, and the sun was slowly tucking itself away behind the snowy peaks that surround colorful Colorado. The day was coming to a close, and after our excited emotions had quieted, all that could be heard was the soft trickle of river water.  The muddy gear peeled slowly away from our bodies, and we drove off into the night.

Snow Flakes, Call of Duty, and Fly Fishing

Glancing out the window of my friend's basement, I couldn't help but notice the fresh layer of white powder that lay frozen on the ground.  Accompanying the powder were delicately falling snowflakes, and dark, dreary skies.  But the decision was made to make the best of it, no matter the conditions.  Besides, it was the weekend, and it would be an unbearable five school days until we would get to do this again, so why not?

The mission of the day was to teach my friend Trevor the basics of fly fishing, and hopefully get him into a few fish at one of my favorite spots.  So, we arose from the mess of left over pizza, blankets, and video game controllers from the previous night, and bundled up in our warmest clothing.  As we downed our cinnamon rolls at the kitchen table, I couldn't help but think about the day, and the events that it would bring.  Trout have a way of indirectly forcing you to pursue them, no matter what the conditions; something Trevor was having a hard time understanding.

As we geared up and jumped in the truck, the thermometer read 17 degrees Fahrenheit.  Hopeful that the sun would soon show its face after a long night of hide (and seek), I stepped away from the car, and grabbed the rods from the back.  Two minuscule thread midges were selected from the warm, homely rows of my fly box, and a few feet of 6x fluorocarbon were peeled off of the spool.  My fingers shook violently as I clumsily tightened the clinch knots on the chosen meal course of the day.  After repeating the process with the second rod, both Trevor and I were ready to go, and trudged through the light, fluffy snow to the river's edge.

We watched as fish leisurely moved about a particular riffle, slowly munching on the tiny snacks adrift in the current.  With carefully placed presentations, and a lot of luck, we managed to trick a few small rainbows.

As the temperatures continued to drop, I removed the last midge on my rig from the hook keeper that sat firmly fastened to my rod.  The wind howled, and I placed one last cast into a low, clear moving run.  Intently, I watched as a glint of white showed up in the water, and I set to the feeling of a long, slow tug at the end of my line.  As trevor sat shivering on the bank, I netted the fish, and set him free  to his home in the frigid waters.

The picture doesn't demonstrate how cld it really was...

We reeled in the rods, and returned to the truck, frozen to the bone.  As the digital temperature gauge glowed with life, the temperature read 13 degrees fahrenheit, even lower than when we started.

After removing our frozen waders and boots, we returned to the basement of his house, and munched on left over pizza as we played a few rounds of Call of Duty.  About the time my Dad arrived to pick me up, the feeling had returned to my toes.  Upon entering the car, I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I glanced over at the thermometer.

13 Degrees.