Still Hungry!!!

One of my favorite things about cold weather is that most people don't want to fish anymore.  That's just fine by me because the fish are still hungry.  My original plans to venture up to Estes Park this past Sunday were drastically altered when the Fern Lake Fire thundered out of Forest Canyon early Saturday morning, fanned by winds gusting up to 70 mph, spreading three miles in just over half an hour.  The fire was started almost 2 months ago, probably by some idiot uninformed person who should have stuck closer to their car instead of venturing into the backcountry.  Fast forward to this past Saturday, and the east side of Rocky Mountain NP is now closed because of the blowup.  Estes Park is threatened but safe thus far.

Not wanting to scratch my plans altogether, I look at option two.  After my first visit, I knew that Clear Creek would be a favorite.  Easily accessible and full of wild brown trout and even a few rainbows, it is just the type of stream to provide an enjoyable but short fishing trip close to home.  Some friends were planning on rock climbing at Golden so I decided to make it a day by climbing when the sun was high overhead and then fishing an hour late in the day.

The climbing was fantastic although a little crowded.  I'm still in a bit of shock at how crowded the crag was, but I guess that's the problem with accessible winter climbing options close to a major metro area.  In Tennessee I was blessed to have phenomenal climbing and fishing close by, and while the tailwaters could definitely get a little crowded on occasion, with just a bit of effort it was possible to find solitude if one wished to.

After enjoying some time on the sun-warmed rocks, we headed back down the hill and through the town of Golden.  If you have never been, I highly recommend stopping by if you are in the area.  There are tons of cool little shops and restaurants in the downtown area, and despite being close to Denver, the town somehow maintains a small town atmosphere.

Entering Clear Creek Canyon, the shadows suddenly seemed much longer as the hills wrapped in close to the road.  Not too far up the canyon, ice started appearing along the stream edges although it was apparent that the warm weather had been melting it away.  For a moment, I had the fleeting idea to do things "right" and tie on a couple of tiny midges with a little split shot and an indicator.  That thought was quickly chased by another: streamers.  Cold weather calls for extremes.  Either you go tiny and stand in one spot and freeze to death or go big and keep moving.  While the keeping moving definitely appealed, in the end it was just my soft spot for streamers that won out.

I tied on a small white streamer that doesn't have a name, just one of those things a tier throws together during the long winter nights when they get bored with the necessary patterns for the next year of fishing.  Nervously I pondered retying portions of my leader, but laziness won out.  This was one of those days were I would deal with a lost fish.  It was just nice to get out.

Creeping towards the first pool, I lobbed the streamer across the current and into a dark back eddy.  On the third cast, I almost fell in as the largest brown I have personally seen on Clear Creek came out to swipe at the streamer.  From what I have read, a 16 inch fish would be considered a nice fish on this particular water.  Unfortunately, the fish swirled and missed the hook altogether.  A few more casts produced two more follows, each more heart stopping than the last, but ultimately the fish finally faded into the blackness and was gone.

Moving down through the pool, I carefully worked each bit of cover until finding all the fish at the back of the deepest part where the current was soft and they had a good view of all the food drifting downstream.  A nice 12 incher flashed and then vanished.  Then an 8 incher attacked with gusto, and I hooked my first trout of the afternoon.  The barbless fly soon slipped out though, and I was left wondering if I would strike out on this day.

About then, I got the itch to explore and started working up the stream from pool to pool.  After one half-hearted follow in the next pool, and absolutely nothing in the next two after that, I returned to where the big guy lived.  Several casts with different patterns produced nothing more.  Contemplating stopping or trying a new spot, I finally decided that it was still too early to give up.  Heading up towards the car, the new plan was to drive back down the canyon and stop at each really good pool.  Half way up the slope, I noticed a small pool that I had ignored earlier just below the really good hole.  In a hurry to get in the car and drive downstream, I almost gave up.  Then my curiosity kicked in.

Moving towards the pool, I saw a small hole between several rocks above the heart of the main pool.

Carefully, I lobbed the little white streamer in.  Right on cue, a beautiful brown materialized from under one of the rocks and gently inhaled the fly.  I set the hook and hoped the fish wouldn't run too far or too fast.  Thankfully, the cold water had the fish almost lethargic and after a few half hearted attempts to gain the current, I quickly landed the brown and snapped a couple of pictures.  Smiling to myself, I eased the fish back into the frigid water.  Yes, the fish are there and they still have to eat.  Thankfully I was able to fish on what will probably turn out to be the warmest day of the month.

After a few more stream shots, I headed up to the car, glad to call it a day.  Funny how one fish can make you happy this time of year...