I’ve got a real love/hate relationship with fall fishing. I know that a lot of serious fly fishermen also love fall fishing, but I think it’s for different reasons. Any fisherman worth his salt appreciates that those places we fish under everyday conditions are generally beautiful. Fall enhances that extraordinary feeling of one with nature when surrounded by fall colors.
But I think most generally that feeling is almost forgotten when we are in search of those massive pre-spawn brown trout that are beginning their ritual mating season. Of course no fisherman worth a howdy-do fishes for trout while they are on their spawning beds but before they’re fair game.
No one believes it when I say; I’m only mildly disappointed if I don’t catch a fish. Being out in the great outdoors in places so beautiful that it’s hard to look away is what draws me first. Even if I’ve been there a hundred times before.
So where’s the hate part you ask? Well, I don’t like cold or snow. As I learned to fly fish over the years, I’ve come to dislike it even more. Man is not made to carry on standing in ice water. If he was, our maker would have covered us with fur or feathers or dog hair or something along those lines. I mean look at nature. Those creatures that God surely loves were made to survive in cold, wet weather. Man was not, except perhaps great-aunt Louise who I’m sure fell out of the evolution parade a hundred years or so ago.
Back about 10 years ago my buddy Dave and I were fishing the Arkansas River here in Colorado looking for fall browns before the spawn. We had been fishing for hours on a gorgeous fall day with only moderate success. By moderate I mean we caught fish, but not the ones that dreams are made of. Finally calling it a day, we were walking back to the car when Dave poked me in the eye (literally with his fly rod) and said, look! After wiping the tears from my eye, I turned to see what got Dave so excited. Making a shushing motion he pointed to the water. There in all their fall glory were two of the biggest trout I had ever seen. I’m not exaggerating (although I have been known to on occasion) when I say these two trout were a good three feet long!
The fact that they were, how should I say, preparing to have a board meeting at her place to discuss a merger never crossed my mind. They were a good three feet long! I had never seen trout that big. I jumped in. Yes, I’m embarrassed to say I broke up the board meeting. I’ve since come to realize that I do have a problem with impulse control when I see three foot long trout. Did I mention the water was cold?
Fall Fishing - Love It or Hate It
So Much Water...
...So Little Time!
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