It’s been a little too long since I’ve posted anything.
When life gets a little too hectic, I go fishing. This weekend I managed to return to the soul-saving activity of fishing the South Platte River. As already touched upon, this river has become my home waters; some 1500 miles from the Yellow Breeches in south-central Pennsylvania.
The alarm went off at 6:30 AM and I quite literally rolled out of bed.
I had figured that if I actually rolled on to the floor I would have little chance of sleeping through my alarm. ThatThe weather was not supposedto cooperate with us and yet it did. The drive up Highway 24 through Woodland Park, Colorado was sketchy. It wasn’t until we made it passed “The Park” when we realizedlittle move right there made sure I was up and at ‘em. Good thing I didn’t head back to sleep or hit the snooze button repeatedly, for my fishing partner on Saturday had already texted messaged me that he would be at my place on schedule (which was 7:00 AM). It’s amazing how quickly one can get ready when they are embarking on a trip that they’ve been waiting all week for.Enter Dream Stream, or as I have jokingly called it, Nightmare Stream. After a couple hours of letting my brother’s dog Emily swim in the river, we gave up hope of getting any fish on the stream. There was no activity whatsoever. I tend to get jaded on the production of a stream when I sight fish and come up with nothing moving in the water.the fog we went through was most likely a cloud that had settled over the entire City Above the Clouds, which is the tagline for Woodland Park, a pretty accurate one at that. Although the morning was overcast and gloomy, the day got better as it went on.We headed down to what has always been a sure thing, Elevemile Canyon. Even the lower stretches of the canyon produce fish.
The weather became sunny and inviting as soon as we got into the canyon, right up passed the private water and passed the first campground named Riverside.
It’s a good thing we decided to cut our losses on Dream Stream because the lower part of the canyon made up for the crushing mental defeat we had already endured. There wasn’t much of a top water hatch coming off, but checking the bug activity under the surface showed both of us what was in store.
After around two hours the totals were in. My buddy got one nice brown trout, which won out for largest fish at around 13 or 14 inches in length. Who says you need to get great big fish to have it be a successful day?
I managed ten fish to net, ranging from four inches to twelve. The interesting thing was that they were all browns, which has happened to me before on trips to the lower reaches of the canyon. There were countless misses for me, but I’ll take what the river has in mind for me on any Saturday.
Forgetting to pack my waterproof camera, it was a delicate game taking pictures with my very un-waterproof iPhone. I sure am glad there were no accidental drops. A few times on Saturday I stopped fishing to take in the Colorado scenery, which for a guy from South Jersey, was incredible as always. It’s truly a blessing to call Colorado home after moving out west in 2007. I still miss the times I spent in South-central Pennsylvania, but not with as much fervor.

















