Deckers Hayday

Sharing our adventures in Colorado's mountains, lakes and rivers have become one of my favorite activities. I love that moment when I finally sit down to recap our latest outing with a hot cup of coffee in hand. Today, all I have wanted to do is share about our epic fly fishing trip up to Deckers on Mother's Day. I can't help but think about the beauty of the day but also the HUGE trout we were pulling in all afternoon. The fish were biting, and the entire family was there, cheering each other on and grunting in frustration when a big one got off the line. 

Rainbow Trout on the South Platte 

My 7-year-old nephew kept sinking waist deep in the river, giggling when he came out sopping wet. His sense of adventure and childlike enthusiasm never fails to bring a smile to my face. He is an inspiration at its finest. He loves the water and jumps in every chance he has, regardless of whether he has the correct attire! One day, I hope he will enjoy it for more than the momentary thrill and chill. We all stood staggered down the South Platte as we sought pockets of trout and slower moving water. Since it was spring, the fish were content to sit on the sidelines. As the temperatures increase, they will be more inclined to brave the faster water.

Caden John 

It was the sides of the river and the pools in which we found our lines growing taunt again and again. Setting the hook has always been my challenge, it seems as though the fish bite the moment my eyes glance off the water and up to our beautiful mountainsides. I made a mistake once, but I wasn't about to make it twice. Knee deep in the river with my nymphs silently making their way around boulders and through the moss, I felt my line tighten and set the hook downstream just in time. I could feel him on the line, and I silently prayed he wouldn't get off, he was a big one. After struggling for what felt like 10 minutes, I was able to draw him close to my net and snag him out of the water. He was a beauty, big and hearty as he fought to return to the river. I gasped in excitement and had just enough time to snap a quick photo before returning him to the water where he gently swam away. 

Landing any fish is an honor, the size or type doesn't matter to me. It is the art of the hunt, of learning the river and seeking out the fish within its waters. Of maintaining the proper drift and staying prepared for the strike. Watching someone else, especially someone you know to land a fish, is just as rewarding as if you were fishing yourself. It will always be one of my favorite parts of fly fishing with my husband. The way his face lights up as he holds his rod above his head, line taunt with a hefty trout on the other end. A big grin spreading across his face as he smiles at the camera.

I will always remember the moment he taught me to fly fish. We were buried in the mountains of Alaska when I first picked up a fly rod. Eager to learn all I could, he helped me to master the proper techniques associated with fly fishing. He is still a mentor today, and he is ever eager to put down his rod and help me out. Fly fishing is an art, but I never found it a frustrating one. To have the chance to be on the river in our Colorado mountains was enough for me. What I didn't realize at the start was the amount of time and dedication it takes to become a real fly fisherwoman. As the years have passed, I still yelp in excitement when a fish is on the line. I hope never to loose that rush that comes when your line tightens, and a fish jumps in the air. I have learned it is about the balance, the patience required to entice the fish into taking that fly. Fly fishing is a passion for me because it will never be perfected or mastered. I will always be learning, and I am so grateful for the many fly fishing mentors I am blessed enough to learn from. Cheers!  

- Kathryn