Jenn Fields and her first ever trout, a RMNP Greenback Cutthroat

A few weeks back I promised a friend, Jenn Fields, that I would teach her how to fly fish; on Monday it was time to do so. Unfortunately most of the streams and rivers are a beautiful chocolate brown as they overflow their banks with the spring runoff. This left just a few options, primarily being lakes. After some deep thought and consultations with the folks at Rocky Mountain Anglers, I settled on a trip up to Rocky Mountain National Park. Jenn and I checked out the headwaters of the Big Thompson and made the wise decision to hike up from the Bear Lake Trailhead to Dream lake. There was a bit of snow on the ground and the lake was still half frozen but we found a good spot to practice casting. After little more than an hour of learning (and fight big wind gusts) Jenn had progressed to a point where she could effectively cast 6 meters of line with a 3-wt Orvis Hydros; it was time to go fishing.

We ventured up to the inlet and promptly saw greenback cutthroat trout stacked up and actively feeding. I quickly realized all of the casting lessons would be for naught as this would require a downstream drift. In any case we tied on a size 18 PMD and within minutes Jenn experienced her first take. After some minor confusion as to what “set the hook” meant, Jenn fought the little beauty successfully to the bank. It was great to see how excited she was – I had almost forgotten the joy when someone catches their first trout. We caught a few more before hiking back out – with Jenn already asking when we could go again.

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The Surfboard, AKA The Floating Couch

Early Morning Sunrise at Daytona Beach

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Patagonia Watermaster Waders

For my second review of Patagonia gear this week, I took out my Watermaster Waders to the water today.  A few months ago I bought a the pair; this was the second time I took them into the water and decidedly less successful than the first.  After finding most of the water in Eldorado Canyon State Park mostly iced over, minimal flows on South Boulder Creek east of the park, and then a New Zealand Mud Snail closure on Boulder Creek, I finally found some fishable water near the Backpacker office where I was rewarding with losing one small rainbow.

The Waders:

The Watermaster stockingfoot waders are extremely lightweight and fit well around my body; they allowed excellent movement without feeling too balky.  Along with the breathable material, the unique suspension system makes these great for warm summer days as you can easily roll down and secure the waders at your hips.  Patagonia makes a big deal about the material being puncture resistant; unintentionally to test this I slide about 10 feet down a hill after stepping on some ice.  My fishing spot was next to a bike path and my blunder did not go unnoticed.  While my dignity may have faltered, the waders did not and I stayed dry.  Including again after I broke through some bank ice.

Boulder Creek

My one complaint with the waders was the integrated gravel guards.  At first glance I was ecstatic to no longer worry about forgetting or losing my gravel guards.  Now, particularly when the water is running cold, I found them annoying.  It is extremely difficult to keep long underwear pants in place while putting on the waders.  Even when on it was difficult, though not impossible, to force the long underwear (or whatever pants you are wearing) back under the tight elastic strap.

Overall I am extremely pleased with the Patagonia Watermaster Waders and would recommend them to anyone looking for a lightweight and durable wader.

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A) Introduce new people to mountain biking without killing them

B) Recover my confidence on a bike post crash(es)

C) Go fly fishing in a ditch when the water is exceedingly high

———————————

A.

Chris's first mountain biking adventure

I have friends come to town from time to time and want to experience biking in Colorado.  Sometime to see me.  Or in this case one of my friends flew to visit her mother in Denver.  Obviously Katie and I rank far behind her mother, so we settled for an afternoon mountain bike ride and beer.  Now I like Chris.  She is fun, amusing, and only slightly annoying.  However she is not a bicyclist (she showed up wearing sandals, thankfully I had extra shoes) , opening the question where should I take her for the first attempt.  Marshall Mesa is obviously the answer, the trails are relatively flat, have minimal rocks/technical sections, and can be as short or long as you want.  We took Chris on the Marshall Valley, Cowdrey Draw, Community Ditch, and Coal Seam trails; that seams like a lot but in all it is only a few miles with virtually non-existent hills.  Why do I keep mentioning hills?  Well, out of towners generally are not used to the elevation and can really suffer.  Which while occasionally fun to watch, does not lead them to continue biking.  Usually.  My Trek Fuel EX 8 is definite overkill for the trail, alas.  However the Boulder Trek Store has great bikes for rent that are appropriate.

View from Coalton Trail

B.

I have been crashing on my Jamis Supernova cyclocross bike during races.  A lot.  Sometimes I just need a confidence booster.  Katie and I went out a few weeks back on one such ride.  As I mentioned above, Marshall Mesa can be extended to just about any distance you want.  We created a long loop (made longer by the 20 mile per hour in your face winds on the return half), starting on the Greenbelt Plateau, continuing on the Community Ditch and Cowdrey Draw trails.   After running into 66th, we took a right to a short trail before jumping on McCaslin Blvd.  Another right and a hill took us to the Coalton and High Plains trails, thus returning to the start.  Confused?  Check out this map.  The Coalton trail has a decent hill on it and when the wind is coming straight off the mountains, it hurts.  I didn’t fall, so overall it was a success.

Dan's Community Ditch Rainbow

C.

This has nothing to do with mountain bike.  Too bad.  Marshall Lake is private and maintained by a fishing club.  They stock a lot of trout.  And when the water gets high, the rainbows run up the Community Ditch to spawn.  I wrote about fly fishing in a ditch; it is an interesting experience.  Even more interesting when a club member comes and yells at you, even though you are on public property.  Alas, it was not my fault that the water runs high in the spring.

First Ride on Marshall Mesa

Marshall Mesa

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I have been fairly lazy, at least with my lunchtime workouts and bike commuting.  I probably averaged less than one ride to work a week.  I ran at lunch once.  I have been only mildly active on the weekends.  I put on 5 lbs in the month.  Bad news.  Seriously bad news.  I will have to do something to get in shape for speed skating season.

So what all did I do?  I went fly fishing with the snow falling and the wind biting at my face.  It was like steelhead fishing back in Wisconsin and Michigan, except I only caught one 8 inch rainbow instead of a 15 lbs silver bullet steelhead.

I only took my Trek Fuel EX 8 mountain bike out once.  Katie and I went out to Marshall Mesa for an easy ride.  Except we were battling 20 mile winds.  Which was awesome…  I will write more about that tomorrow.

I rode in three cyclocross races.  Technically only one of them was in October, but that is acceptable as I collectively performed miserably at all of them.  The first, at the Louisville Rec center as part of the Boulder Cyclocross series, I was actually doing fairly well (probably somewhere in the top 15-20) before I crashed on the downhill immediately following the sandpit.  I went down hard on the turn and bent my derailleur hanger, of course I didn’t notice until my chain sucked behind my cassette and refused to be freed.  Alas.  The next race was the Valmont Bike Park Fest race where I continued my trend of falling.  Not only did I fall, but I fell three times.  And by falling I do not mean poor mounts, though I had plenty of those as well.  I went down twice in the loose dirt after the run-up and then once again when some guy bumped me into the tape.   I think I somehow managed to be the last person not to be lapped.  Finally I competed in the Boulder Cup.  I did not manage to avoid getting lapped; apparently I have a lot to learn about cyclocross, like that it helps to train…  At least my Jamis Supernova is performing well.

In pre-winter news, we had three different ski houses fall through.  If you know of anyone who needs two more (and a bulldog), let us know!

Oh, and it snowed 23 inches in two days; forty-eight later it was all but melted.  We’ll see what November brings.

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View at Hosking Farm

It has been almost half a year since Katie and I returned from our New Zealand honeymoon and in remembrance celebration I am posting the last piece of our four part adventure. After the painfully long flight into Auckland we met an old friend for a tour of the city. The next morning, still confounded from the flight over, we headed to Ahipara for a week of surfing.  Returning to Auckland, we took our time to casual tour the city and the harbour. While we certainly enjoyed exploring a new city and learning a new sport, our excitement for the trip was highest heading into Rotorua to try our hand at mountain biking.

Killer Black Swan

Katie had asked if we could stay on a farm while we were in New Zealand; uncertain with the low quality of websites advertising a farmstay I opted for the one with pictures of massive brown trout, the bed and breakfast at Hoskings Farm just outside of Ngongotaha.  I cannot say that all B&B’s near Rotorua are run by one of the uniquely pleasant and heppy ladies I have ever met, have a beautiful house surrounded by meticulously kept gardens, and fields of curious cattle and sheep; the 120 acres at Hoskings Farm certainly did. Oh, and I forgot to mention the really big trout.  Really big.

Our host, Trish Hoskings, was a vibrant lady who dotted over her gardens and her guests.  Always full of suggestions and eager to offer food from her garden, Trish made our stay truly delightful.  Trish introduced us to her massive country garden, and assortment of chickens, lambs, and cattle; her pride in the land was evident.  On our first tour of the grounds we met the amusing young cattle as they would follow us to the gates between fields, hoping to get a free trip to the fresh grasses.  We amassed some impressive views, though the pool of massive trout under the bridge was edged out by the epic sunsets.

Rotorua Mountain Biking

As difficult as it was, we left the farm and ventured into Rotorua to hire (that means rent in “American”) mountain bikes for three days.  At Bike Vegas ran into a shop guy from Eugene, OR and scored a pair of modified Haro Mary XC 29ers; the front derailleur was removed, leaving us with the middle ring.  The shop guy assured us we would not need any more gears for redwood forest where we would be riding; he proved correct.  We loaded the bikes and headed over to the Whakarewarewa Forest trails with a quick visit to the New Zealand of Walmart to buy some cheap shoes. And no, I have no idea how you pronounce Whakarewarewa…

The locals claimed the Whakarewarewa Forest has some of the best riding in New Zealand; having nothing to compare and with our epic experience, I cannot doubt the claim.  The forest contains more than 70 km of trails interconnected by fire roads (that means even more available riding distance beyond the 43.5 miles of trails).  The trails were primarily flowy single track through densely treed woods; better yet they were all one way so you never had to hold back in fear of a crash.   Maps were scattered through the area, the trails were well marked off the fire road, and a smattering of water stations were available.  The was not major amounts of climbing (at least compared to our Colorado trails), but if you wish to get in more riding with less fire road climbing you can take a shuttle.

View from Riding Down Split Enz

While we did ride during the week, we very rarely met into other riders on the trails.  Those we did meet, primarily Australians whom were quite pleased that nothing in the forest was going to kill them, all exposed the same excitement as was on our faces.  The trails were phenomenal and I hope to have a chance to return and properly chronicle all of them; our last ride took us down Split Enz, continuing on the Pondy trails, and finishing on Old Chevy.  The fire road climb was long and we passed a few groups of Australians before finally reaching the trailhead for Split Enz.  The trail is tightly built with fast flowy curves swooping through huge trees.  As difficult as it was to stop, it was well worth it to see the gorgeous views.  Upon being dumped out to the Pondy system we had some slower, gentler grades of curves with moments of downhill speed.  We came out on Old Chevy, an up and down trail with more fast curves.   All combined, these trails were the single favorite ride of my life.

Fly Fishing a Spring Creek Near Rotorua

On a ski trip in the Colorado mountains shortly before we left for New Zealand I fell ill and spent a day perusing the fly shops in Summit county.  At the time, the only travel fly rod I possessed was a Fenwick 5 piece 5-weight that my father had built in the 1970s; I needed a better rod.  I picked up a fast action Sage FLi in an 8’6″ 4 piece 5-weight with a Sage 1850 reel for $200 on clearance.  Like most fast action rods the FLi can really punch out a lot of line, however I was more interested in the backbone to handle large New Zealand browns.

The country is fiercely proud of their fisheries and go to great lengths to protect them by restricting what gear you can bring into the country – I took the rod, reel, hemostats, leaders, and tippet material figuring I could buy everything else in-country.  I picked up about two dozen flies, some floatant, and some split shot before heading into the water. From the top of the steep banks I spied a plethora of browns and rainbows, ranging in sizes from around 12 inches to the largest trout I have ever seen in my life.  Along with the impressive size, I have never encountered such a concentration of large fish – it felt like walking along a fish hatchery. The New Zealand trout however were a lot smarter than their counterparts raised in American hatcheries.  My first challenge was hot to approach the fish; with the high banks I could not easily drop in behind them and spooked quite a few trout in my attempts to do so.  Eventually I made my way in and started working upstream.  Notice I have mentioned nothing about waders; I had none.  The spring creek was cold.  Very.  Cold.  Of course after a few minutes my feet and legs had gone completely numb so it no longer mattered.

The first day I spotted a few feeding fish but was unable to get them to take.  The next day, after a brief consultation with the fly shop, I purchased some 7x tippet and headed back into the water.  With the smaller tippet I was able to coax a mid-sized rainbow into taking a midge on the surface.  Unfortunately I discovered another flaw in my system – I had no net and the steep banks offered nothing to work the fish onto shore.  After a solid fight, the rainbow broke off as I unsuccessfully attempted to land him. I continued the trend with a few other small fish, breaking them all off before I can land them. Then it happened; I hooked a massive brown easily approaching 30 inches. The fish pulled me up and down the stream for well near 10 minutes before beginning to slow. The first time I got her close enough to touch the fish took off for another minute of sheer running; the second time I started to get my hand under her when she sprinted again and broke the line. I will definitely need to return for a rematch.

New Zealand Café

So what about the town and food? On our way into town we stopped for a bite of lunch – we ended up at a quaint, garden covered café.  The food matched the gardens in quality – fantastic!  In Rotorua each day we would eat a late lunch and pick up some bread and brie (with Trish’s garden vegetables) for evening snacking.  Given my love for lamb chops, I was amazed that it was the end of the trip before I finally had a rack of lamb.  With the outdoor activities, food was an afterthought though everyone we spoke to in town raved about the culinary options.  The town itself was very attractive – it was definitely a touristy/outdoorsy town but with the friendly New Zealand atmosphere.  Hot springs were on the edge of town and afforded a pleasantly casual stroll.  The lake bordering Rotorua was gorgeous but apparently the black swans are killers…  We heard that there were tons of outdoorsy activities to do but limited by our time and endurance,  we stuck with mountain biking and fly fishing.

Unfortunately our trip had to end and after two weeks in country we began our journey home.  On our way back to Auckland we stopped in the minuscule town of Tirua; they have the quintessential tourist trap in form of a massive corrugated metal sheep. We initially pulled over for the i-SITE visitors center but wondered into the Big Sheep Wool Gallery. One of my goals for the trip had been to acquire a new fly fishing hat, while I had successfully found a suit and a cycling jersey it appeared no hat was to be had. But then I was saved by the metal sheep! I found a great and airy Selke hat, just what I was looking for; Katie acquired a warm lumberjacks hat.  With our heads covered, we boarded another Air New Zealand flight for home (and failed attempts by three different flight attendants to get my entertainment system to work).

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Katie's First Trout: a Greenback Cutthroat

On recent backcountry backpacking trip in Rocky Mountain National Park, Katie and I took along a March Brown Baden Powell 7-piece 5 weight.   Upon reaching our campsite we discovered a homemade setup tree branch rod with a bobber and spinner.  After setting camp at the Happily Lost site we headed down to the North Fork of the Big Thompson.  We tried a few spots of fast moving water; there were a lot of fish jumping up the brush induced waterfalls but none interested by our offerings.  Moving upstream to a small section of smooth water, I spotted a boulder and quickly caught two greenback cutthroats by drifting a small PMD downstream.  I asked Katie if she wanted to try with my rod; she declined acquiesce my request and stuck with her homemade pull.  Until I caught a third fish on the next drift.  Unfamiliar with reading the water or a concept such as a downstream drift, it took Katie a few drifts before she sent the fly directly over the pool teaming with fish.  As soon as she did, a nice 7 inch greenback greedily attacked on the surface.  Sudden uncertainty struck Katie as she still had a few feet of line in her hand; I winced after I told her to use the reel and she dropped all the loose line.   Thankfully the fish was feeling suicidal and remained on the hook. After a short battle, Katie successfully landed her first trout and her first catch on a fly rod.  We let the fish go and retired for the night.

Dan's Greenback Cutthroat

The next morning we briefly went back to the same hole before hiking out.   Katie was still enthralled with the prospect of catching a fish with the homemade rod and left me with the fly rod again.   I saw no insects coming off of the water but there were a number of mosquitoes buzzing around; I tied a mosquito on and quickly landed two brook trout.  The brookies fought well but I could not convince any of the stunningly colorful cutthroats to take before we had to leave.  The trek ouf of the park passed too quickly as I daydreamed about the places Katie and I could fish should I succeed with my hopes of turning her into a fly fisherwoman.

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Frying Pan River Brown Trout

My father has a number of clients in Colorado and flies out a few times a year; most trips he tags on the weekend to visit.  My company allows employees to do something awesome during the summer – take every other Friday off.  Subsequently this makes for a great long weekend.

We headed out, taking the scenic route through Leadville and over Independence Pass; my father was amazed at the number of road cyclists we came across.  The first night we camped out on in White River National Forest between the Lincoln Gulch and Portal campgrounds. While the site was not the easiest to get to (I would strongly recommend a vehicle with good ground clearance), it was scenic and quite.

After setting up camp we headed into Aspen to acquire a fishing license for my father and find some access points to the Roaring Fork River. After about 10 minutes in the Pomeroy Sports store we finally tore one of the employees away from a John Wayne movie on the TV. I was not very impressed with the service; the employees appeared more interested in pulling people in off the street in an attempt to sell them fishing gear. However we did succeed in buying a license and finding access points. The first place we fished, a bit north of the airport, was some fast moving water. With private jets roaring overhead every few minutes. Unsuccessful we headed upstream to a park on the edge of town; again the water was fat but I was able to land a small rainbow, about 10 inches, on a 16 Adams. While I have to imagine that the entire Roaring Fork was not rough, fast water complete with the slightly abhorrent attitudes of the locals, the areas we fished did not impress me.

View from the Roaring Fork River

On Saturday I headed north to Basalt and the Frying Pan River; my father fell ill and checked into a hotel to sleep for the day. My first stop was in town at the final few feet of the Frying Pan before it emptied into the Roaring Fork; I saw a lot of rising fish but had to settle for a single rainbow on a pheasant tail nymph. After a quick stop at the Taylor Creek Fly Shop, a full service fly shop with a great selection of gear and a fantastically knowledgeable staff, I headed upstream. About halfway up to the dam I stopped at some smooth water that contained a number of rising fish and got in the water. I caught 10 fish, ranging from 8 to 18 inches, that afternoon. None of the fish came easy; I must have used over two dozen flies trying to figure out what the trout were eating. Even though I caught fish, I think I still failed at matching the hatch. The flies I had success with were adams, brown caddis, Chernobyl ant, green drake, pale morning dun (PMD), and mysis shrimp.

Somewhat amusing during this time was the guide and client who decided to fish just upstream; the guide kept telling his client that she should not cast like I was and that they were not catching fish because I was standing in the best spot in the river. On the first charge, well, my casting technique is certainly sufficient for me. I could still drop a fly in a three foot diameter circle at over 20 yards with my Orvis Superfine 3-weight. As for the second charge, I do not know the river but I strongly suspect the big 10+ pound fish were mostly living just below the dam. In any case I was amused, though I pitied the woman for having such a poor quality guide.

Landing a Rainbow Trout on the Frying Pan River

On Sunday morning my father, recovered from a 24 hour flu, and I headed back to the Frying Pan. After unintentionally catching a pretty little brown, my father discovered the fish would take a green drake skating slowly upstream. Had he not come across this technique by accident, I am sure we would have never tried this. It was quite effective and we caught a number of fish before having to drive home via the disaster that was I-70 on Sunday afternoon. While not the most productive fishing we have ever done, I would and will happily return to explore more of the Frying Pan!

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Southern Wisconsin Brown Trout

Somehow Katie wrangled me into reviewing a couple of fly rods for the Backpacker Magazine Blogs; I really cannot complain as I enjoy really fly fishing, and, as I rarely upgrade my gear, it was fun to test some new equipment.

The initial review was for four rods; I have a few more that will be reviewed in an upcoming post. All the rods were extremely packable – in fact I took two of them with me on a business trip to Wisconsin where I spent an afternoon on a small stream catching brookies and browns. Most of the rods, unsurprisingly given how many pieces they came in, were extremely fast action with one exception. I really enjoyed the March Brown Baden Powell Special Edition; it was awfully close to a true medium action rod. I am hoping March Brown come out with a 2 or 3 weight with the same medium action. The MIT engineers at March Brown have taken some aerospace technology and translated it into fly rods. Apparently their rods have been getting a lot of work in war zones; hopefully we can hear some more stories about this. Plus the have some great excuses to skip work so you can fish on their website. While I am not likely to determinately trade in any of my two piece rods, I will happily add a March Brown to my collection for the hard-to-get-to locations.

There were a number of comments about 5 weight rods being too heavy for most backpacking. While I cannot argue that for many of the high alpine lakes and streams it will be overkill, I wanted to recommend a rod that you could also use with cutthroat on the Missouri, smallmouth in the Boundary Waters, or potentially even salmon in the Cascades. If I only had one rod, it certainly would have to be a 5 weight.

Rods Reviewed:
Cabela’s Stowaway 7
L.L. Bean Travel Series
March Brown Brownsea Island
March Brown Baden Powell Special Edition * This rod rocks!

Read the full review on Backpacker.com.

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Rainbow trout from an irrigation ditch

Who says ditches are boring.

One of my MBA classmates tipped me off on an irrigation ditch that was beaming with trout. Odd I thought, but certainly worthwhile exploring. So this morning, with my legs still burning from yesterday’s two hour speedskating session, I decided to go try out fishing in a ditch. I even managed to convince Katie to buy a license and come along, though unfortunately the temperature was already too warm for our bulldog Sherbert to join us.

I grabbed my 7.5′ Orvis Superfine 3-wt and we headed out with a quick stop for the license. Of course, as we were being lazy on a Sunday morning, it was already 10:45 by the time we parked. We wandered the ditch, stopping to watch the numerous spawning rainbow trout. It was decidedly odd seeing so many 12-18 inch trout in a shallow irrigation ditch. I threw a wide variety of nymphs and dry flies, but with no success; apparently with sex on the brain the rainbows wanted nothing to do with me. Without much (read any) action, Katie sat on the bank and enjoyed her book while basking in the sun.

Dejected, we eventually started to make our way back to the car when I spotted a small rainbow take something off of the surface. I had not seen any bugs coming off the water so I went to my surface standby, a 16 Adams. Sure enough, I had a take on my first drift! Katie looked up in shock; I am pretty sure she thinks that I never actually catch anything. After a short battle, I landed the fish and had a picture. While the fish was obviously not huge, I was content with catching the only active fish I had seen all day.

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