It was getting to the point where I couldn’t stand it any
longer. I had to figure a way to hook a fish, and quick. Work had been crazy,
and was only going to become even more insane. So, I made a phone call that
would change my life and feed the addiction of fly fishing even more. Pretty
dramatic I know, but true. It was Friday morning and I was hoping to go on a
guided trip down the famous San Juan River near Farmington, New Mexico. This
river is well known and can get very crowded. The fact that I was able to book
a trip on a Friday morning for Sunday was, well…awesome!
Right now I’m reading John Gierach’s, “Fool’s Paradise.”
Great read. He mentions that fishing trips aren’t always about the fish.
They’re about the journey. I agree, but also disagree. It depends on how good
the fishing is. In this case, it was a little bit of both for me. Although, the
fishing definitely played a large role.
This journey was about three hours long through the desert.
For the most part it was pretty dull and uneventful. However, I had a lot of
time to just think. Like I said work has been crazy, and for some reason I have
been super irritated with people. I know this may be frowned upon, but
everything from traffic to politics was just getting to me. I find it sad that
so many invest so much in things that to me, are futile and unimportant. This
election has been getting to me as well. I hate politics anyways, so when I
feel like all I have to choose from is a smooth talking socialist, and a money
grubbing politician, it frustrates me. This country is better than that, and I
feel as if we, as Americans, are investing in the wrong things. I feel as if we
have become lazy, too dependent on the government and not ourselves, and
entitled to have everything our way. Rise up America. Okay enough of that. As
Forest Gump would say, “That is all I have to say about that.”
Like an intriguing question to an awkward silence in a
conversation came Mumford and Sons’ “Awake My Soul” from my IPod.
“In these bodies we will live.
In these bodies we will die.
And where you invest your love.
You invest your life.
Awake my soul.
Awake my soul.
Awake my soul.
For you were meant to meet your maker.”
I’m a simple man, and it doesn’t take much for me to be
content in life. Knowing that my maker is in control and faithful to love all
of us is very comforting. For the rest of the trip I took shelter in that and
decided to enjoy every bit of the journey. Life is too short not to.
When I arrived at the Fisheads Lodge on the San Juan I was
excited to get on the water and see what this river was all about. After a
quick session at the fly shop
I checked in to my room and then headed out to the river.
What I found most fascinating about the San Juan was the
contrast of the surrounding area. There I was in a desert with rocky cliffs and
sparse brush. But there in the midst ran the San Juan like an artery full of
life and color. I’m not exaggerating when I say that the upper San Juan in what
is known as the quality water section is like fishing at a hatchery. And this
hatchery is stocked with nothing but brood stock, aka BIG fish. I couldn’t
believe it. If you move your feet at all and disturb the sandy bottom, pretty
soon there will be about five fish feeding within two feet of you. At first
this was completely foreign to me. I didn’t exactly know how to react. There I
was looking at five of the biggest rainbows I had seen just feeding right by
me. My first inclination was to cast to them, but this is actually illegal on
the San Juan. It is known as the San Juan shuffle. See when you move your feet
and disturb the river bottom, it stirs up a lot of food that the fish love to
feed on. It doesn’t take long to figure out that with all those fish there
feeding in murky water you have a better chance at them taking your fly under
tough visible conditions. Because, let me tell you, these fish see a lot of
artificial flies and they are not stupid. So like any quality fishing section
of a river a group of people decided that the San Juan shuffle should be
illegal and spoil all the easy catching, In all fairness to the fish though,
they’re not that dumb. The shuffle
isn’t full proof as I witnessed the next day.
The San Juan is a unique river. For one thing it is a river
with a substantial flow of water. This is very rare for New Mexico, as I have
discovered since living here. It’s water flows right from under Navajo Lake. As
a result, the water is cold and clear and enables a substantial amount of bugs
to flourish. Unfortunately for fly fishers, these bugs happen to be tiny. Tiny
flies results in very picky fish. Very picky fish frustrate anglers who are
trying to tie these flies on very thin line in order to fool the picky fish. Do
you see where I am going with this?
I discovered this first hand when I attempted to catch these
very large and picky rainbows the first afternoon I was out there. After
getting used to the fact that the biggest trout I’ve ever been in the vicinity
of while not at a hatchery weren’t exactly catchable at my feet, I tried my
luck out in the main current. I didn’t get skunked, but I wasn’t exactly
catching any fish of significant size. There was a gentleman however who was
downstream from me.
Earl was from Maine. I don’t know exactly how they fish in
Maine, but he was doing quite well in New Mexico. The first fish Earl caught
wasn’t of any significant size, but he was just warming up. The second fish he
hooked I could tell was large due to the intoxicating sound of a reel being
stripped of line. As I looked downstream I could tell this was a big fish. Earl
had been playing the trout for a few minutes and almost had him to the net.
That’s when I decided to walk over and see what he had. I was almost as excited
as he was. Although he had the big fish shakes which is what happens to a man
when you travel some few thousand miles and decide to rent all of your fly
fishing equipment on a whim because your son was playing a soccer game and you
have been reading about the San Juan for years and all of a sudden you have a
very large, 20” rainbow in your net. (Run on sentence for drama purposes.) So
that’s why he was shaking. I knew this was a memorable moment for Earl so I
offered to take his picture. You see, I could empathize with him because if I
were in his position I sure would have wanted a picture, and it’s tough to take
a quality one with one hand when you have a 2-3lb. 20” inch fish and your
shaking like you’ve got hypothermia or seen Sasquatch in the middle of the
desert. Needless to say Earl and I had a good time. He got to work on his
catching while I got to work on my photography skills with an IPhone. He caught
a few more after that one too. So Earl and I shared the experience and he was
able to walk away not only with a story, but also with a few pictures to prove
it. I enjoyed it very much as did he. You see, that’s one part about fishing
that I really enjoy. The camaraderie between two anglers who can appreciate the
experience together makes the sport of fly-fishing that much more enjoyable. I
would have done it regardless, but I must say, I think I earned some good
fortune from helping out Earl because the next day was just as good, and I
wasn’t the one taking the pictures.
When I got back to my room there was a note on the door from
my guide, Phil. He wanted to get out on the river early and give him a call to
confirm the time and place. This was good news to me since I’m not one to waste
daylight fishing. It turns out we were the first boat on the river the next
morning. A good start.
I read a lot about the San Juan before making the trek. One
thing the articles all had in common was Texas Hole. This particular hole only
held the majority of fish, and big ones at that. So, when Phil said that we are
going to skip it and head down river I was a little apprehensive. Then he said
where we were going. We were going to spend some quality time in the “Land of
the Giants” and Alligator Alley. Hearing that made me feel a little better. I
brought my 5-weight with me, but Phil already had a 6-weight rigged up with a
14-foot leader with some lead, a bunny leach and tiny size 24 red larvae. The
fact that it was a 6-weight made me feel even better.
I’m struggling to put into words the experience I had that
morning. I hooked and landed large fish after large fish. They were all bigger
than any other fish I had previously caught. What I can say is that it did not
get old. The first fish I caught was what Phil described as cute. Needless to
say I didn’t get a picture with that one even though I secretly wanted one.
That was the fish that got the ball rolling though. After that one they only
got bigger and more fun. What makes these fish difficult to catch isn’t
necessarily that they are picky, I mean they like to eat, it’s that the takes are
so subtle that I probably missed as many as I landed. This time of the year
there wasn’t much bug activity on the surface so we stuck to nymphing. If the
indicator so much as stops, or tilts to one side, you have to set the hook. I
was amazed because a few times Phil would say set, and if it wasn’t for him I
wouldn’t have caught the fish simply because I wasn’t keen to the type of take
these fish give you. I had some practice though and managed to do all right.
After Alligator Alley we moved down to Baetis Bend where I
landed a nice Brown and some more Bows. One fish in particular was quite large.
I was actually able to see him go for the fly and set the hook right on cue. He
was hanging in about three feet of water off a little shelf. Since I was fishing
to him, and able to see his every move and reaction, it added to the appeal of
the take and enjoyment of landing the fish.
The most memorable trout was unfortunately the one that got
away. After an eventful morning with many quality fish, we moved further down
river. The river’s characteristics change the farther down you go. We
eventually got into some faster moving water with more riffles and runs. It
reminded me of the McKenzie River somewhat, minus the giant green trees of
course, but there were quite a few large boulders and small pockets where fish
would hang out. This part of the river has a different bug population, although
they didn’t get any bigger. The upper part is mostly comprised of midges
whereas this particular section comprised of mayflies. Also, the fish taper off
in size and numbers. This did not detract from the experience. The first fish I
hooked in this section was hanging out right where Phil said he would be in
front of a boulder. He was a nice fish probably pushing 18 inches. It took a
long time to land him since he got into the main current and was stubborn to
the point he would just not get near the boat without taking off on another
run. After a while and a sore forearm we finally netted him. The next fish
however was the most memorable.
I named him Phil’s fish simply because he told me going in
that he had never had anybody hook him let alone land him. We spotted this 20
inch hog from the shore and made our approach. He was in between two boulders
that were offset of each other making a nice eddy for him to hang out in. He
was feeding and so we figured our chances were as good as any. What made this
fish so difficult was his position. If I cast too far, the current would drag
my fly through his lie like O.J.’s Bronco. Not very appealing for a fish
looking for naturally drifting bugs for him to slurp up. If I didn’t cast far
enough, the same thing would happen. I had to get the cast just right. Once I
did that though, I had to mend like crazy to keep a drag free drift going. After
like six casts I finally got everything right.
All day Phil had told me to “set”. Set. Fish on. Set. Fish
on. This fish was different though. When I finally had the fly drifting through
right in his lane, we saw him make his move. Right as I set the hook, Phil
didn’t say set, he yelled, YES!! Fish on! We started laughing simply because we
had hooked the un-hookable and the anticipation of the take, and the rush of
actually hooking him made for a dramatic moment. It didn’t last though. You see
this fish just wasn’t meant to be caught. The trickster lulled me to sleep
thinking that I could just drag him to the boat and net him, take my picture,
and tell everyone that I hooked and landed him. Wrong! When he got to about ten
feet of the boat, he decided to go for his one and only run. What I was unaware
of was that in the process of stripping line in to land him, my foot had moved
onto the line. When he went out, the line got tight, and the sensation of
pressure on the line under my foot was the cue for his exit. Before I could
react the line broke and he took the fly with him.
After that, Phil and I looked at each other and just
laughed. That’s all we could do. He gave me an atta boy and I just had to sit
there for a bit and take it all in. Although it was frustrating not to have
landed the fish it almost makes for a better story. That’s what I have to tell
myself at least. At that time I couldn’t help but just enjoy the moment and
revile in the exhilaration of the chase and work that we put in to try and land
the fish. Unfortunately, Phil’s fish now has a little jewelry to show the rest
of his friends, but we have a memorable experience. And, my soul was awakened.
