While spending our time in Colorado, our last week I set aside a day to fish alone. This doesn't happen often. Mainly because we love sharing our experiences with the whole family. Every member there for every turmoil and victory. I do like fishing on my own but it carries a voided feeling. Plus I become paranoid and believe a mountain lion is going to have me for lunch. As someone who gets maybe 4 days a year to myself I manage to still thoroughly enjoy my alone time. We made a plan. Tyler was going to drop me off at the top of the hill, and I was to fish this valley that I had been eyeballing for years. It was always too difficult to bring the whole family, so I kept finding myself drooling over it every time it was in sight.
So we pack our things for the day. Tyler had to take the girls to town for some things, and I was going to maneuver my way down this hill, which as I began descending I realized it was the side of the mountain. At one point I was just living on a prayer sliding down on slick rock trying to keep my waders up off the abrasive mountain side. My hand got a few raw spots because I decided to use them as brakes. I safely got to the bottom where I met several other fishermen who took the easy route. They parked at the fisherman parking within the campground and walked several miles at this point, something I refused to do. I believe I had counted eight anglers who had the same idea as me. Get out there early and beat everyone else. That wasn't the case.
Soon as I get on the trail I quickly realize the other anglers I was behind were much older. Mostly in their 80s. As I began making small talk with each one the tension lessened. Realizing I could just out pace them and walk the furthest down stream and have a good chunk of river to myself. I managed to put close to 1.5 miles between me and the last group of men. I was in awe at the huge boulders and deep pools this part of the river created. I was now fishing river I could not see from the road. Down river looked even better but I did not want to spend my entire time walking. I pulled out my Grayl, which is an awesome water purifier we purchased in Taos, NM. I chugged an entire bottle of water, snacked to replenish the calories I had just burned and started fishing.
The wind was a bit rough but thankfully it came in spurts and wasn't constant. I pulled several browns out of the first hole I carefully maneuvered around. Jumping from boulders, trying not to fall in as it is deep and I didn't feel like getting wet. I worked my way up stream and found some calmer water. I spotted some bigger rocks still underwater but created a triangle, a nice little riffle trout love to feed in. Sure enough he was there waiting for a snack. While wrangling him into the net I saw the blush and vibrant colors this fish had. Getting more and more excited, fear and anxiety started setting in. Worried I'd lose him. I try calming myself down, started working on my breathing and realizing to just let him fight. I needed to get myself better situated in the stream, so that I could be more stable on my feet and reach for him with my net.
Once he was landed I danced a jig, shouted and plopped down to catch my breath. What a ride. I attempted to capture a photo that would do this fish justice on its beauty and size. After a few failed attempts I had to let him go to be himself again. Forever thankful for the opportunity for us to cross paths. I didn't catch another fish that day but didn't really have to, my needs had been fulfilled. That particular river usually shuts down after 1:30 so started on my way back to the trailer. I texted Tyler using our new satcom device, desperate for a ride after walking 5 miles that day in full gear. He and the girls showed up with Charlie and went back to the trailer for dinner and smores and ended our day looking for shooting stars.
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