Fish of a Different Color

I am always amazed at the variety of patterns and colors on trout. I am even more impressed when a fish decides to break with the norm and take on some colors of their own. A typical Utah Rainbow Trout varies in shades of green and silver, whereas a Brown Trout varies in shades of browns and greens.

One of my recent trips out fishing a stream that is primarily a Rainbow trout stream, with the occasional Brown trout mixed in,  I could see a tail jutting out from behind a rock, lazily fanning the water. It took me a few casts to get the fish to take a fly, but I managed. My first glimpse of the fish was a yellow streak shooting out toward deeper water. I was certain I had hooked into a Brown. Imagine my surprise when I land the fish and see that it was a Rainbow wearing the wrong colors.

One of the prettier Rainbows I’ve caught, it had the right markings, but the colors similar to that of a Brown. Is there a reason for the color change? Maybe in today’s society, the poor thing was having an identity crisis. Do I care much? Only enough to share the pictures. Out of the dozen or so fish caught that afternoon, this is the only one that got a snapshot. Hats off to Mother Nature for keeping things interesting.

Fishing a Small Stream in the Fall

With winter being in full swing, I look back on my fall and summer exploits, picking out the days that really stand out as great days spent fishing. In my case, pretty much every fishing day is a great day. However, there are always ones that seem to stand out. One such day didn’t even start out as a fishing day. I was on a job site that happened to be next to a small stream. When I was finished penciling an estimate for the customer, I asked about the stream and what kind of fishing was to be had. What he said nearly struck me dumb.

“I have no idea,” he said. “I don’t even know if there’s fish in there.”

What? No idea? It was like he was suddenly speaking a different language. I felt very much the wizard talking to a muggle about cars vs. flu powder. We were just not on the same page. My priorities, being what they are could not allow me to leave his property without doing a little recon for future reference. As it was a sunny day, I walked the banks looking into the eddies and slack water trying to spot some sign of life. The beauty of the river soon captivated me and for a time I forgot the fish and stood still. A gentle, but firm, breeze stirred the treetops raining down the yellowed leaves of the fall Quakies.

And what about the fish, you may ask. Of course there were fish. And of course, I managed to catch a few in the short time that I had. I also was smart enough to snag a personal permission slip to fish the property anytime I wanted. To look at him, he seemed to have no idea why I would want to do such a thing. To each his own, right? Fishing aside, I keep looking at the video and pictures and hope that winter leaves in a hurry so I can get back to doing what I love.

The Little Things That Count

Sometimes things don’t always go according to plan. For weeks we had been planning a family campout. It’s fall, so we expected the weather to be chilly so we chose a place in the valley, yet close enough it still mimicked the mountains. I was personally stoked. It had been a busy year and I was looking forward to some R&R. I realize that putting relaxing and family in the category of R&R might seem a little self-contradictory, but love’em or leave’em, my family is my life.

I just happened that Mother Nature planned a hurricane that same weekend. Well, the only thing to do was to share space and hope we didn’t step on each other’s toes. The weekend was cold. And of course, it was a constant barrage of rainstorms and low lying clouds that kept us in a constant state of damp. What could we do but make the best of it? The family gathered under canopies and umbrellas as close to the fire as was possible. Although the weather was poor, it didn’t stop us from having a good time. Pork and beef roasted in the dutch ovens, crisp fried bacon, and eggs on the hot griddle and ice cold Mountain Dew to wash it down.

During a small break in the rain, I busted out the fly rod to take advantage of the small respite. A small stream trickled through the campground with some planted Rainbows and some wild German Browns. I was rewarded with one of the best half hours of fishing I’ve had this year. The rain had pushed plenty of food into the river and the fish knew it. I cleaned up, catching several of each using a size 16 Elk Hair Caddis on the surface. The last fish I caught I decided to take a picture so I would have my necessary bragging rights. Without a doubt, one of the smallest, but prettiest fish of the year. 

It’s important to take stock of the small things in life that really matter. Too often we get so caught up in the struggles of life that they threaten to overtake us, burying us in stress and unhappiness. Every once in a while, you need to get out of that mindset and remember what brings you joy. And it never hurts to get out and do a little fishing.