The Platte still is giving it up, Drapeau hasn’t forgotten how to fish since living back east, Kendrick is his usual stuff. Carry on.
Because I suck, as if that answer wasn’t obvious.
I’m pretty sure that if the weather was any worse this weekend then I would not have gotten out of bed. Relentless wind coupled with some snow, rain, sleet, wet snow, and some more wind made for a challenging “vacation”. Visibility was poor due to the precipitation and the windy conditions but that didn’t prevent my companions from getting some respectable trout.
So aside from my car of people Sean also met us up on the river to show us how it is done and help me perfect the nuances of fly fishing… like blood knots.
Once everyone else got out of the car and confirmed that I was not going to either blow away or freeze to death instantly I geared up and headed to the river. I will have to say that being a full time photographer for your party isn’t as bad as you would think. Among the dozens of skip job browns that we landed there were a few that had some pretty interesting colors which allowed me to pretend to have an artsy side. Chad, Sean, Greg, Jeff, and Mike all caught nice fish within an hour or two, which left the pressure of “skunk” firmly on my shoulders.
Lucky for me there are still dumb fish in the eco-system and one of them thought they wanted to get a picture with me for the website. I was happy to oblige and so just like that, the skunk was off but I never stopped getting shit from everyone else on the trip. Carr caught a brown with some really unique coloring that I thought was pretty neat.
Between Mike’s chili and the BBQ that Chad brought from Moe’s we ate like kings at night. Honestly, without those meals I’m not sure I could have made it out of the house in the mornings. It was hard to get excited about fishing when you heard the tapping of the rain on the roof all night, knowing that it wasn’t going to subside the following day and you were going to have to stand in it. Then I would think about ribs with mac n’ cheese or pork and beef chili and I told myself that I might be able to make it through the next day, if only for dinner and the thought that big fish might like me.
Most people get a couple of good fishing weekends in every year. A weekend where everyone can get together to enjoy good food, fishing, and a few beers. This past Easter weekend was one such trip for me.
11:00 AM: Pick Greg Drapeau up from airport.
12:30 PM: Take Greg to shop to buy new waders and a few spools of tippet.
3:00 PM: Preliminary packing of the vehicle, say goodbye to home.
3:30 PM: Costco run, liquor, sandwiches, and breakfast burritos.
4:30 PM: Gas up, head out to meet Mike and Jeff in Conifer.
5:45 PM: After a few traffic delays we arrive in Conifer. Purchased three Acai Vitamin Water drinks for the road and loaded the car with the rest of everyone’s shit.
9:30 PM: Made it to the hotel in Gunnison for the night. Made a 5:00 AM wakeup call.
Four hours in a packed car is miserable for everyone, but often times in events like this, the journey is half of the experience. Casual conversation on the river is usually kept to a minimum and in the evening it is more important to catch some sleep than stay up late playing cards or something. I find that the ride is one of the best times to talk about some hot new midge pattern or the best novelty fishing accessory that you came across that past winter. Fishing is obviously better with friends but it is important to not forget your journey, it might just provide you with some of the best memories of your trip.