Considering my nearly five-year span in the Yampa Valley, you would think of the myriad of activities I’ve attempted, fly fishing would be one of them. But nevertheless, it is among the few that have not yet caught my attention, until now.
Along for this particular ride was Steamboat Pilot & Today and Craig Press’ Assistant Editor John Chalstrom, who spends his days off as a fishing guide at Steamboat Flyfisher. One Wednesday morning this summer, we traded our news desks for the tranquil tailwaters of the Yampa River.
Heading down to Steamboat Flyfisher, John and I secured my mandatory day fishing license, a pair of flies and of course a brand new hat. I went with a bright red Umpqua hat adorned with the store’s logo and a rainbow trout.
At 7 a.m., I headed south through town toward Stagecoach Reservoir, taking the service road along the lake’s edge. The bumpy road led me past the dam to a parking lot where John had set up shop for the day.
After lacing up my boots, securing my maroon hat and pulling up my borrowed waders, John and I began our leisurely walk down the river’s shore.
Before jumping in the water, I was given a brief introduction to the sport, from learning how to cast to understanding trout behavior.
Placing the fishing rod in my right hand and instructing my left hand to work the excess line, John lightly explained the mechanics of feeding a line. While using my index finger as my “trigger” and placing my other fingers securely over the handle, it allowed the line to flow freely through my hand as I casted. In my left hand, I held the extra slack from my cast, pulling in the additional fly line to keep it just above the river’s surface. This helped me manage my line effortlessly, keeping the bobber in sight. The bobber, a buoyant attachment that signals when a fish bites the fly hook, sinks into the water as soon as a fish takes the bait.
My first few casts were far from perfect, but with each attempt, John offered tips to help me better control the rod and manage my eagerness to swing the line too aggressively.
“Ease up on the delivery, and don’t throw your rod so far back,” John advised, as I quickly learned that the key to fly fishing lies in its simplicity. When casting, you only need to lift the rod to shoulder height before swinging it forward and the power needed remains in the delivery, not the wind up.
As my casts began to flow more consistently and my nerves began to calm, John and I got to talking about the principles behind this art form of the sport.
The first lesson was finding the best spots along the river to fish. John explained that the white bubbles near small waterfalls indicate high-activity areas for trout. These bubbles mean the water is more oxygenated, creating ideal feeding grounds for the fish.
Among the family of trout species, there are four major groups: Rainbow, Brown, Brook, and Cutthroat. In Colorado, the most common are Rainbow and Brown trout, with some Cutthroats. Interestingly, Rainbow trout, introduced to Colorado in the 1880s from the Pacific Ocean watershed, are not Colorado natives. They are the most noticeable with their multi-colored hue, silvery-white underbelly and a signature pink-red stripe from gills to tail. Brown trout, on the other hand, lack the pink stripe and have a darker complexion, fitting their name.
As I patiently waited for a bite, I absorbed a wealth of information. The most fascinating revelation was the incredible craftsmanship and dedication behind the sport of fly-fishing.
Take the flies, for example. While buying them is easy, many seasoned fly fishers, like John, prefer to craft their own.
Pulling out his fly-box of little trinkets, I was fascinated by the artistry woven into each fly barely the size of a small pin. With the goal to resemble a fly or larva, John had two methods of craftsmanship to execute an insect-like hook. For his winged flies, John uses a collection of duck features saved from his hunting endeavors, which were stitched together with thread and paint brush bristles. The menagerie of materials wrapped around a hook gives the illusion of a winged insect much like the ones taking a drink from the river’s edge.
To capture the essence of a larva, John uses a small hook as his base with colored thread cloaked around it multiple times and fastened by a thin wire, creating what is known as a zebra midge. This particular bait is commonly used for flyfishing that targets larvae under the water that trout tend to snack on. For nymph fishing, a sinker is placed on the end of the line before the bait, ensuring the hook is visible beneath the water.
Learning about trout and their behavior quickly became a peaceful and fascinating new obsession. With no cell reception, I felt completely at peace, surrounded by flowing water, gentle wind through the trees and endless scenic views: What more could a girl want?
I must confess: During my hours on the tailwaters, I didn’t catch a single fish. However, I wasn’t alone — none of my fellow anglers did either. It seemed the fish had conspired against us, creating a theme of camaraderie in our shared fish-less adventure. Despite this, the day was far from the tedious experience I feared. Reeling in more than just fish that day, I became enlightened to the obsession that is fly-fishing which once seemed so mundane. I guess one could even say I am hooked.
Ready for your first fly fishing adventure? Start with Steamboat Flyfisher for guided tours, the latest gear and a friendly staff to make your fishing dreams a reality. Find more at SteamboatFlyFisher.com/.