Post by mirvc17 on Aug 2, 2017 20:30:23 GMT -6
For this family vacation, we decided to head a little further west and stay in Red River. My folks have been there numerous times for motorcycle trips and rallies. It would be our first, and definitely not our last trip there.
My wife hurt her back before the trip and it was with my parents, so not the greatest time for her...Anyhow, here's the story.
The seven-and-a-half-hour drive was mostly uneventful. Past Springer, NM I could see some serious rain and lightning hitting the mountains a little south of Cimarron. I bet there were some unhappily soaked Boy Scouts on the Philmont property that afternoon. Luckily, we had just missed a rain shower in Cimarron Canyon. The river still looked pretty good and it was about 60 degrees out.
Continuing the drive past Eagle Nest, just west of Bobcat Pass, we hit a mega downpour and the temp was 53F. The rain let up just a little bit after arriving at our condo and allowed me to unpack. The river was completely blown out so I had to wait until morning to fish.
The next morning the river looked much better with about a half a foot of visibility and the level dropped significantly—it was doable. I fished the section near Valley Condos by the heli pad and bridge—no one around. The bite was subtle, but I pulled 8 out in 45 mins and then headed back for breakfast. I played around with a couple of different fly combinations but eventually settled on a size 18 jig Zebra midge on a dropper tag and a size 14 orange and pink Globug with a silver tungsten bead. I picked up fish on both but the Globug got the majority of them, probably due to the visibility and stocked fish. After that, we spent most of the day relaxing, shopping in town, and exploring. The riffles, runs, and pools in town looked pretty sweet, but I didn’t bring my rod.
Red River Angler and Sport’s fly shop side was a little on the sad side—not much there really but I guess they are a multi-sport shop. Starr Trading Post had a lot more gear and flies, but I didn’t buy anything. I resisted getting yet another hat.
As we crossed the bridge to get to the condo, a stocking truck was just leaving. I started licking my chops—the fish probably were too. After lunch at the condo, my kids, father, and I hit the river. Dad decided not to fish for whatever reason so he just watched. My youngest son wanted to fish and after rainbows attacked his orange Thingamabobber a few times, I swapped his fly and put on the other TH Globug I tied prior to this trip. He caught 6 in about an hour and I kept running over to net his fish in between my catches and drifts. He was loving it.
While all of this was going on, I hooked up with a big fish near the bridge. It took me a few moments to realize what was happening, but I had a second fish attached to the other fly—a double! I think I lucked out and had 4X from my sighter and on my dropper tag while the point (egg) fly was on 5X. I missed several netting attempts trying to get both fish in but eventually got them just as I lost my footing and fell backwards into the river. The big fish took the Zebra (bent the hook a little too) and the other fish was on the egg. I released both and kept fishing/netting fish for my son. About 15 minutes later I set the hook and up popped two fish—another double. We caught some more fish after this and then decided to call it a day.
On Saturday, I went solo right at dawn for an hour and had more success. My parents left after breakfast and we headed into town for brunch. The food at Old Tymers Café was decent, but the wait was pretty slow. Afterwards, the kids hit the park and I hit the river. I fished a few deep pools and runs by one of the main bridges. There were others fly and spin fishing and thankfully no one was crowding each other. I fished downstream of this old guy and started picking up fish left and right. He came over and asked me what I was doing—nice guy and his first year fly fishing. We wished each other luck and he went on his way. I started sight fishing and had a blast watching fish chase my flies and then take them.
Back at the condo, my youngest and I went back out in the late afternoon after some of the fishing pressure slowed down. There were still some people out, and we were forced to fish in places others had been. Regardless, my son caught one and I continued to produce.
There was one teenager that had a very nice casting rhythm, but he wasn’t getting anything. I fished behind him at the end of a run after he moved on and I picked up some more fish. I don’t think he was happy about that. Eventually we crossed paths and I asked him how he was doing and what he was fishing. Based on some of his drifts I thought he was swinging soft hackles, but he had something like a Parachute Madam X or something on. I showed him my rig and flies and said good luck. I felt bad for him, because he was having one of those days—I know I’ve had many and I thought for a moment about those outings that ended in frustration. That is just the natural progression of angling and we all have really good days and some days we just can’t do anything right. Without them though, I don’t think fishing would be fun. It’s the unknown that is exciting—will I have a good day, an OK day, or will it be a disaster? Will the fish eat what I’m slingin’? Why not? Will I ‘crack’ the code for the day? Enough philosophical mumbling…
It was a great trip, I fished well and the stockers cooperated. I did catch one small brown—it was a pleasant surprise. I won’t get my hopes up too high as I’m sure I’ll get humbled on the South Platte at the end of September. I’ll try to Euro nymph as much as I can there too, but I may have to go small and reach into those containers of RS2s, Barr’s, Juju’s, Slim Shady's, etc. I have some ideas on how to make that work on a Euro rig…we’ll see!
Pictures and video to follow soon…
My wife hurt her back before the trip and it was with my parents, so not the greatest time for her...Anyhow, here's the story.
The seven-and-a-half-hour drive was mostly uneventful. Past Springer, NM I could see some serious rain and lightning hitting the mountains a little south of Cimarron. I bet there were some unhappily soaked Boy Scouts on the Philmont property that afternoon. Luckily, we had just missed a rain shower in Cimarron Canyon. The river still looked pretty good and it was about 60 degrees out.
Continuing the drive past Eagle Nest, just west of Bobcat Pass, we hit a mega downpour and the temp was 53F. The rain let up just a little bit after arriving at our condo and allowed me to unpack. The river was completely blown out so I had to wait until morning to fish.
The next morning the river looked much better with about a half a foot of visibility and the level dropped significantly—it was doable. I fished the section near Valley Condos by the heli pad and bridge—no one around. The bite was subtle, but I pulled 8 out in 45 mins and then headed back for breakfast. I played around with a couple of different fly combinations but eventually settled on a size 18 jig Zebra midge on a dropper tag and a size 14 orange and pink Globug with a silver tungsten bead. I picked up fish on both but the Globug got the majority of them, probably due to the visibility and stocked fish. After that, we spent most of the day relaxing, shopping in town, and exploring. The riffles, runs, and pools in town looked pretty sweet, but I didn’t bring my rod.
Red River Angler and Sport’s fly shop side was a little on the sad side—not much there really but I guess they are a multi-sport shop. Starr Trading Post had a lot more gear and flies, but I didn’t buy anything. I resisted getting yet another hat.
As we crossed the bridge to get to the condo, a stocking truck was just leaving. I started licking my chops—the fish probably were too. After lunch at the condo, my kids, father, and I hit the river. Dad decided not to fish for whatever reason so he just watched. My youngest son wanted to fish and after rainbows attacked his orange Thingamabobber a few times, I swapped his fly and put on the other TH Globug I tied prior to this trip. He caught 6 in about an hour and I kept running over to net his fish in between my catches and drifts. He was loving it.
While all of this was going on, I hooked up with a big fish near the bridge. It took me a few moments to realize what was happening, but I had a second fish attached to the other fly—a double! I think I lucked out and had 4X from my sighter and on my dropper tag while the point (egg) fly was on 5X. I missed several netting attempts trying to get both fish in but eventually got them just as I lost my footing and fell backwards into the river. The big fish took the Zebra (bent the hook a little too) and the other fish was on the egg. I released both and kept fishing/netting fish for my son. About 15 minutes later I set the hook and up popped two fish—another double. We caught some more fish after this and then decided to call it a day.
On Saturday, I went solo right at dawn for an hour and had more success. My parents left after breakfast and we headed into town for brunch. The food at Old Tymers Café was decent, but the wait was pretty slow. Afterwards, the kids hit the park and I hit the river. I fished a few deep pools and runs by one of the main bridges. There were others fly and spin fishing and thankfully no one was crowding each other. I fished downstream of this old guy and started picking up fish left and right. He came over and asked me what I was doing—nice guy and his first year fly fishing. We wished each other luck and he went on his way. I started sight fishing and had a blast watching fish chase my flies and then take them.
Back at the condo, my youngest and I went back out in the late afternoon after some of the fishing pressure slowed down. There were still some people out, and we were forced to fish in places others had been. Regardless, my son caught one and I continued to produce.
There was one teenager that had a very nice casting rhythm, but he wasn’t getting anything. I fished behind him at the end of a run after he moved on and I picked up some more fish. I don’t think he was happy about that. Eventually we crossed paths and I asked him how he was doing and what he was fishing. Based on some of his drifts I thought he was swinging soft hackles, but he had something like a Parachute Madam X or something on. I showed him my rig and flies and said good luck. I felt bad for him, because he was having one of those days—I know I’ve had many and I thought for a moment about those outings that ended in frustration. That is just the natural progression of angling and we all have really good days and some days we just can’t do anything right. Without them though, I don’t think fishing would be fun. It’s the unknown that is exciting—will I have a good day, an OK day, or will it be a disaster? Will the fish eat what I’m slingin’? Why not? Will I ‘crack’ the code for the day? Enough philosophical mumbling…
It was a great trip, I fished well and the stockers cooperated. I did catch one small brown—it was a pleasant surprise. I won’t get my hopes up too high as I’m sure I’ll get humbled on the South Platte at the end of September. I’ll try to Euro nymph as much as I can there too, but I may have to go small and reach into those containers of RS2s, Barr’s, Juju’s, Slim Shady's, etc. I have some ideas on how to make that work on a Euro rig…we’ll see!
Pictures and video to follow soon…
