We've fished this river for three years, several times a year, but not this section. Instead of heading up, as per usual, we took a gravel road down, until we reached the river. It was much smaller than up yonder, more enclosed, like the tunnels we are used to fishing in back East. Looking down into the small stretch of water there were no flashes of light indicating little trout, but we were already here. Plus, why not try and fish an entire stretch of river?
Read moreA Rainbow and A Pot of Gold
The parking lot was full. We walked by all the cars, searching for fishy stickers or rod tubes in backseats. Determining that this was a big river, we'd just driven all the way out here, and the ratio of anglers to cars was not that high, we geared up. I swapped out my trusty hip pack for the daypack, as I do on most 'hike' trips. It was filled to the brim with snacks, rain jackets, and water, with all fishing essentials pinned here and there.
Jacob doesn't hike unless there's the return of fishing, a guaranteed pot of gold at the end of a rainbow if you will. Which is why these are my favorite kind of fishing trips, I get to hike with Jacob because the bribe of trout always works.
Read moreFishing Bamboo
Years ago, for Christmas, I gifted Jacob his first bamboo rod. Ever since then it's been a steady stream of learning to build and gathering all he could find. He completely immersed himself in the art of bamboo.
Since then, I've learned more about 'boo' than I ever thought I would, but it was still his. I've cast a bamboo rod from time to time, gave them the 'wiggle test', and admired from afar. I've got my glass rods, they catch fish just fine. I figured bamboo would be a world in which I was always an outsider and even a 'boo widow.'
Read moreGoing Home
I can hear Jacob in the corner packing his things. I've been getting together our last bit of laundry to clean before we shove it in backpacks. At four am, tomorrow morning, we make our way home.
As always, we never get enough time here and it's always heartbreaking to head home. I guess maybe that means something when you're always sad to go home.
Our final adventure here was to the same place as our first. I think it's safe to say this little creek is so very special, to both of us.
Read moreSitting On A Rock
The weather report called for afternoon thunderstorms, so a full day, high-country trip was out of the question. Heading north was out of the question. There had been one too many mudslides and we didn’t want to be stuck somewhere for hours. We threw out different directions and rivers for a while until we settled on a spot. We’d gone last year, been skunked, I wasn’t expecting much. I figured ‘hey, at least I get to be outside.’
Read moreWay On Up
I've always considered myself to be a mountain person. I live, play, survive in the mountains, define myself by it. I've never been so wrong about anything. At best, I'm a hill person.
Last week, Jacob and I made plans to meet up with a fellow bamboo rod maker and one of my first rod bag customers, Dave Sornborger - Animas Rods. After all, we're are in his backyard, who better to show us around. "You're good with 2.5 miles, right?" Jacob asked me. I didn't give it a second thought. Two miles, seriously, that's a quick hike for me. It wasn't until the night before that I was informed that over the course of two-miles we'd be gaining 2,000 ft in elevation and starting off at 10,000 ft.
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