Well we made it to Colorado, saw some crazy murals in the Denver airport, stopped at a badass fly shop on the way to Estes, ate a kick ass burger at Oskar Blues (good beer too), and even managed to squeeze in some fishing time in the Park before it got dark on us. Elk are everywhere around here, even in town. It was a good day.
Blake and I are headed to Denver in mid-September thanks to $198 round trip tickets on Southwest. We wanted to have one last hurrah before his baby arrives this winter, so this is going to be it. We are CLUELESS when it comes to fly fishing in Colorado, so this is also a call for help to fellow anglers out there on the internet that stumble upon this blog. I figure we’ve got a few months to study up and formulate a plan, but any help is appreciated, just email me or send me a facebook message if you want to keep anything private. I can pay you with Louisiana redfish knowledge if you wish.
Not sure where we are staying yet, I figure we can nail that down as we figure out where we’d like to fish. I’d love to find a cabin on some water. We’ll be looking to spend more time on the water though and less time in the car, so it may be on the Front Range, or westward on I-70. We would like to go with a guide for at least the first day we’re there to help shorten the learning curve that comes with fishing new water, and hopefully put us on some solid fish. Finally, we’d also like to catch a cutthroat trout; greenback, Colorado River, maybe even both, it doesn’t really matter though as I’ve caught neither.
We’re pretty excited though, it will be a good break for us flatlanders from Louisiana to just experience the Rockies, much less fish them.
Sunday
Day 4 was not much of an encore for Blake and I, but more a much needed day of rest before we packed up and headed out. I did some halfhearted fishing, but after breaking off a few times I gave up. I hooked a few fish before then, but landed none of them. Mom caught a pretty nice trout though, on an inline spinner that Blake had tied for her (think wooly bugger with an attached spinner).
That afternoon we all took a ride to the Toccoa to check out the footbridge on the Benton Mackeye trail. We all agreed it was over-engineered for the pedestrian traffic it sees, but our wives took comfort in that fact as it swayed while others passed us by.
That night we sat around the campfire, a perfect way to end a trip up to the cabin.
Monday
Monday morning we headed out with the Subaru packed to the gills. While Blake and I fished, our wives had a good time at the outlets in Dawsonville and the Arts in the Park Festival in Blue Ridge. They did get a chance to stop by the new Blue Ridge Fly Fishing to pick up some swag and flies for Blake and I. I didn’t even have to ask – that’s love. I think they enjoyed the trip as much as we did. There is just something about those wild trout that gets my adrenaline going. I know they aren’t big, but they hit dry flies with reckless abandon and when you do hook into something bigger than 8″ – it is exciting! Especially with our 1 and 2 wt rods. It was sad to leave the cabin, but we’ll be back.
Mountains to Marsh 