When we started planning our trip out to Durango (basically the week after we got back last year) we decided that we wanted to try and fish in places that were completely out of our comfort zone, lakes being at the top of the list.
Read moreSlow. It. Down.
This summer Jacob and I have both had lists of things to accomplish a mile long and the closer we get to our vacation the more the "to-do's" seem to pile up. It's been "hurry up and get it done" for months now, barely finding time to squeeze in personal fishing trips. Living life at this pace inevitably ends up fishing at the same pace. We end up worrying about the work there is to do at home, the guide trips that are tomorrow, and how many hours of sleep we can actually survive on. To make matters worse, I rarely sit back and enjoy fishing anymore, I focus solely on how many fish are being caught, am I getting good enough pictures, are all my images starting to look the same, what can I do to shake it up? It's hard to get out of that rushed mentality when it's become your life.
Read moreThe Best Fishing Trips
Sunday morning there was a chill in the air. An actual, honest-to-god, chill in the air! The black coffee smelled and tasted so good in that crisp air and my flannel shirt felt so comfortable.
This summer has been unbearable. It's been too hot to move. The humidity has been thick and heavy hanging around with no relief.
Forests have been shut down because of crazy people.
Guide trips have consumed whole seven day weeks with no sign of relief.
The "tubber" and swimming hole hatches have been abounding.
Summer has been unbearable.
But, Sunday morning...
There was just enough of a change in the air to get you going and really get you excited about the day. The roads led us up and around into Pisgah, to views we hadn't seen in a while and rivers our feet hadn't touched. We picked a little stream close to a trail head but arrived before any hikers or any other anglers. It was calm and quiet and just what we needed.
The most beautiful sight of all was all the little rainbows! Ranging in size from too small to even bite the fly to eight inches, all bubbling up all around us. All so ambitious you had to stop and admire their tenacity.
For me, the best fishing trips are not the record breaking ones or the "exotic" ones, but rather the ones that make you sit back, slow down, and simply admire everything that's around you. I try my hardest to make every fishing trip, every hike like that, but I'm easily distracted by all the noise.
I needed a cool, quite day if just to block out the noise.
You Persist
The problem with the fly angler is this, we spend the vast majority of our time on earth in an almost constant obsessive stalking of fish
Read moreRivercourse
I heard about Rivercourse a few years ago and like most things always meant to help out. But, the years came and went and there was always something that prevented me from showing up. This year, with my new found freedom from corporate life, I was ready to commit.
I can't say enough about it. There were so many excited kids and they were excited about fishing. Even better than that they were excited about conservation.
While It's Yours
Originally Posted June 2, 2017
There's something about driving down a gravel road. For some reason it makes you feel like you're going somewhere out of the way, somewhere "inconvenient" for the masses. I've always associated gravel roads with leading you to the woods.
On Wednesday, we headed down a pot-hole infested, washed away gravel road just as the sun was coming up. It curved around and back, over tiny bridges, narrowing and widening throughout the drive. The fog was still hung heavy on the mountains in the distance.
The water was still cold. There were no bugs yet, the sun hadn't hit the water, it was still moving into her place overhead. And yet, ambitiously, a small rainbow crept from the bottom of its deep protective pool to eat my fly, twice the size of its mouth. As the day persisted, in the same fashion, rainbows and brook trout of all sizes consumed flies the whole day. Many of these tiny creatures outsmarted us, more than once, taking the fly only to shake free from it before we could hold them in our hands for just a minute.
The heat of the day had just started to set in, along with the growling of my stomach, when we came upon a large pool, decorated with laurels on either side. Jacob fished this pool, tricking a few trout and being outplayed by others. I sat on a rock, observing all of it. Watching the bugs dancing on the top of the water, listening to the creek as it traveled over and under the obstacles in her way, and watching the nine-inch trout leap out of the water with such ferocity you have to admire it.
That's when I realized that this love I have for this place makes it mine to care for, to ensure that what I love about it so much remains.
This morning, while admiring others adventures and fishes, I came across a photo and comment that stuck with me, it read:
"While it's yours, while it's in your care, do your best to make it more beautiful."
-Jillian Lukiwski, The Noisy Plume
This creek, this little mountain, and many others are mine and in my care, for now at least. And, luckily, not mine alone.
There are many that don't believe it is their responsibility to care for the creeks, mountains, deserts, forests, and waters, but I believe that there are far more of us that do. I believe that we will take up this battle, each in our own individual way, in our own parts of the world, and make them more beautiful, more fruitful, more prosperous than we found them.
Because make no mistake, it is up to us and it is our responsibility.
