Mountain Air and a 5-Weight

I think it is fair to say that every person has their breaking point and I am no different when it comes to dealing with Texas summer heat. I finally hit that point a few weeks ago after spending a long day outside at work and decided enough was enough. I needed a break and figured this would be a perfect opportunity to head north in search of some cooler weather. I made some phone calls to pitch the idea to some buddies and we soon had a plan coming together.

A few summers back, a buddy and I made a camping and fishing trip to the Rio Grande River at South Fork, Colorado. While there, we spent a day going through the mountains to the small town of Platoro and the headwaters of the Conejos River that offers miles of accessible river to fish. We did not get much time to spend there as we had fished a few mountain creeks along the way, but the place stuck with me. Since that day I have Google-Mapped every square inch of the Conejos in hope that I would be able to return one day. And having hit my summer-heat breaking point, I decided that day had finally come.

So, buddy Marc and I decided we would meet at Seth’s house in Austin as it would be a handy enough spot, in the general direction of our destination. We then drove all night and after stopping for groceries and at the local fly shop for some tips and flies, we arrived at Platoro. Immediately, we rolled the windows down and were greeted with clean, 55° mountain air. Finally – some cool weather! After an hour drive down a tiny dirt road we came to the little cabin we had rented. We hurriedly unloaded everything and pieced our rods together to see what the river offered.

We had noticed on the way in that a stretch we passed to get to our cabin looked like a fast and easy place to hop in and try our luck. We spread out and began to look for deeper holes and stretches that looked productive. Seth found a section of the river that had a good bend and knew there would be a deep hole on the outward side and fish should be sitting in there. I found a stretch a bit farther downstream with fast flowing water that was littered with bigger rocks. I knew the rocks would provide a perfect shelter and ambush point for trout in the swift current.

If you are a saltwater fisherman, you can easily pick up what to do when it comes to mountain trout fishing. There really is not much difference between a moving tide and a flowing river. Fish react the same to current wherever they are; the prevailing pattern being, where can I stage that provides the best chance for an easy meal while expending the least amount of energy.

Our tackle for the week was 5-weight fly rods and we all threw dry-drop rigs. Essentially this is a bigger dry fly on top, and tied off to the back of the hook shank, a smaller nymph or bug variant.

I began to cast and float my offering down the current seams that flowed around the larger rocks. I made several casts to each side and tried my best to present my flies in such a way that seemed natural to any fish that may be there. Finally, after floating a cast past a particularly large rock, my dry fly disappeared. I raised my rod and a trout was on the line. She gave me a few jumps and I carefully brought her to hand, snapped a few quick photos and sent her back on her way. After about two hours I landed another, both having taken my bottom nymph. We eventually met back at the truck with Seth catching just one in the deeper hole where he started. We decided to head back, grill some steaks and call it an early night since we’d had such a long day.

The next morning we sat on the porch with coffee, overlooking the valley and were greeted with more than a dozen hummingbirds. The temperatures were in the upper 40s and a light jacket was the perfect match for the cool air. We then began to discuss our plan for the day and started talking flies. The olive green psycho nymph I had purchased at the fly shop seemed to work well but I only had one. Seth mentioned that he’d brought a little travel fly-tying kit along, so I broke it out and attempted to duplicate the pattern. I improvised with some materials and came up with a version we called the BGB – Big Green Bug.

We continued that day and went further downriver to explore and have a look at something different. Fishing was tough all day and we managed to at least hook fish but never got them to hand. A storm had developed and parked on top of us, enough to dirty the water. So we headed back to camp and sat on the porch, watching it rain. Once the rain stopped, a small herd of elk appeared from out of the trees and made their way into the valley. Even though we were there for fishing we were satisfied with how our evening turned out.

We had a few more days left to fish and we decided one of them should be spent on some of the creeks farther up in the mountains. We did that and managed to catch some fish along the smaller water. What is neat about these places is that they are in some of the prettiest areas you can imagine, tucked away in small bowls at the top of the mountains.

During our trip, though fishing had been tough, we were able to piece some things together. We did have one spectacular day during which we landed more than 20 fish between us. Along with that was the first time I have ever witnessed an insect hatch happening on the river. This is where some of the larva hatch and turn to flies and begin to land on the water. Naturally, it sends the trout into a frenzy and makes for a fun day, if you are lucky to be in the middle of it. The only thing they want to eat is a small dry fly that mimics the hatch and they will absolutely hammer a little bug floating on the surface. There was about an hour stretch where it happened and we were fortunate enough to catch fish during it.

All in all it was a fantastic trip and I would do it over again in a heartbeat. It was a perfect escape from the Texas heat and gave us all a good reset. On top of that, I got to spend five days exploring new water with some great friends in a truly beautiful place. It was filled with wildlife, birds, fauna, and fish. What more could you ask for?

I still stand by this forever: There is nothing more peaceful in this world than standing at the edge of a river, listening to it flow and mending flies as they float on the current.