A Pursuit

This past summer I became quick friends with a fellow islander, angler and Seeker of the Freedom of the Water. Nick Kelley recently departed the U.S. for South America for an adventure of culture, nature and fishing.  

I encourage you all to follow along on his blog and enjoy his great writing, photography and fishing tales.  As you all know, itineraries for adventures rarely follow their first draft, but you can see Nick and his road companion Zach's rough plan below:

Oct. 14th - Fly from Denver to Guayaquil, Ecuador
Oct. 14th - Nov. 1st - West Coast of Ecuador near Machalilla National Park followed by a week in Cuenca - fishing and exploring Cajas National Park
Nov. 1st - Fly from Guayaquil, Ecuador to Caracas, Venezuela 
Nov. 1st - 8th - Saltwater Fly Fishing Los Roques, Venezuela  - (Zach’s butt tattoo of a Permit, pending actually catching a Permit)
Nov. 8th - Fly from Caracas, Venezuela to Lima, Peru 
Nov. 8th - Nov. 27th - Lima, Peru to San Martin de los Andes, Argentina via bus (5,000km in 21 days!!)
Nov. 30th - Dec. 21st - Volunteer program at Conservacion Patagonica - http://www.conservacionpatagonica.org
Dec. 22nd - Return to San Martin de los Andes for Christmas with family and friends
Jan. 8th - Jan. 22nd - Exploring and mountaineering in Southern Patagonia near Cochrane, Chile
January through March - We will be based out of San Martin de los Andes exploring the region in every direction
Ciao

Check it out here:  A Pursuit of Chimichurri

A place I used to live

I used to live in southern Colorado.  Where the altitude is high, the air thin, the water cool and the trout plentiful and (sometimes, hopefully) eager.  

Work would have us in Navajo Dam, on the banks of the mighty San Juan River for the week days.  So we flew in early and flew out late.  

We arrived in Durango, rented a Chevy Traverse and proceeded to keep it full of strung rods, waders, boots, vests, beef jerky, Gatorades, trail mixes, granola bars and sun screen.  We started our trip on the Animas River, current holder of the state record brown trout.  Seven skilled anglers took to its waters for an entire day with one fish brought to the net.  Tough to complain about fishing in amazing weather in a Colorado trout river, but justified or not, we complained about one fish landed.  So we sought other water.  Enter the Piedra River.

Who doesn't just love stoneflies?  The dozen Pat's Rubberlegs I tied up for the trip were put on and immediately started hooking fish. 

 That's more like it.

 Next day we sought more fresh water. The upper Los Pinos.  Hike-in only.

My man Paul about to catch a brook trout, to complete his grand slam for the day, all on dries, all wild fish:  Brown, Rainbow, Cutthroat, Brookie.  Very solid.

While meetings took up most of the days, we were blessed with a half day float on the Quality Water section of the Juan.  Fish were taught.  Few pictures were taken.  One of note is below.  

We came around a bend and I spotted a boat with two standing anglers.  The tightest, sexiest loops were being thrown to the banks from the middle of the river.  Two left-handed casters I noted.  Hmmm, who could that boat be?  With 30 of us on the river that day, I surely should know them.  We approached and I realized that I was watching two of the best fly casters in the world fish with their off hands.  Pretty incredible to watch.  Siem and Gawesworth:

Meetings adjourned, Paul and I set on a road trip to Creede, Colorado and the 4UR Ranch, my old stomping grounds.  Chevy Traverse packed well.

Paul stuck one on his first cast.

And it only got better from there.

We hosted a rarty (river-party) on the banks of the mighty Rio Grande.  We brought out the two-handed switch rods, 4 and 5-weights and swung streamers from bank to bank.  A few grabs and a few brief fights, but none to hand on the swing.  I then decided to fish a couple holes on the creek one last time before departure.  My "cheeseburger" fly, the amazing Designated Hitter would be the choice.  One rise and a fish that went haywire all over the hole.  Downstream it went, into the big river.  Finally it tired and came to the net.  Possibly my biggest ever landed in the creek. 

Thanks Goose Creek.  Thanks Colorado.  Hope to see you again.  Soon.

Viva Chile

Last month I returned to Chile to surf, a pastime that I don’t often get to enjoy living in Western Wyoming. Because I get my fair share of fishing in Jackson, the trip didn’t have much of a fishing component but I did want to get back to a river I had been to in the Lakes District town of Pucon. I had been there 2 years before and had a fun float with Mario of Mario’s fishing zone http://flyfishingpucon.com/.

In 2009, half a dozen or so pan sized bows and browns were landed on a float trip through the bamboo forests in the mountains above Pucon. Hammering the overhanging vegetation and undercut banks at river’s edge produced small fish though pictures in Mario’s shop proved the existence of monsters.

Last month on the same river, we were greeted by fishing déjà vu. Half a dozen pan sized bows and browns came to net again despite relentless pounding of the fishiest looking banks, snags, pockets, and impossibly deep (35’+) pools with T14 shooting head – this stuff sinks at almost a foot per second- it does not fuck around. After the all day float, which runs about 70 bucks a person, depending on the exchange rate, we were super stoked on the scenery and happy to hook into some fish. In a last ditch effort however, our guide drifted a couple hundred feet past the takeout to one last bottomless trench and we proceeded to dredge it. In the dying light, one of my last offerings into the depths of the pool was straight up abused. I could tell immediately that this was the largest fish I had ever hooked with a 5 weight, or with a clicker reel for that matter, but somehow, miraculously, the coho came to net after abusing me for nearly 30 minutes. A large part of the rest of the trip was spent chasing fish. It only takes one bruiser like this to get your head screwed on straight and priorities back in line.