When I began tying flies, I was stationed at Nellis AFB in Las Vegas. Part of the government budget sequestration in 2013 meant that my USAF fighter squadron was grounded for six months. Bad, because I loved flying and instructing in the A-10 Warthog. Good, because I had the opportunity to fly fish more and began learning how to tie my own flies.
There are times on the river when you are sure. From where I stood in the cold flowing water of the Provo River, I could see the water bend downstream and speed up before the bridge. Saw the rocks and white breaks beside gentle pools and midcurrents that hugged the bank walled with overgrowth. I knew that seam held fish. I was sure of it.
The first time I fished Mammoth Creek, I drove past them. The fences were weathered grey and white cedar bleached by the sun. Faded and torn, the old coral melded into the tall grass along the river. Part of the landscape. I noticed them just before the gravel road took me up a small hill behind wide oak trees that reached over and made a tunnel for my small white truck. I drove on until I knew that those worn posts had been the landmark. “The Corals”. Then I travelled further through the beams of light that penetrated the trees and strobed off the white gravel until I found a spot where I could make a three point turn and drive back through my dust cloud towards The Corals and access to the river.
“We sure are losing a lot of beadheads Pop.”
“I bet there’s a trout in there.” If you have ever uttered these words, odds are you were right. At the same time, if it looks too hard to reach, it probably is. I say there is a middle ground, and you might just surprise yourself. If the spot is truly challenging, chances are you are the only one to go for it. That can be a big advantage in more ways than one.
When I pulled off the road and parked next to the South Platte River, I knew I was returning to a special place.
The beginning is special. It is in the beginning that the bond forms. After the excitement of something new wears off. When you are not catching fish. When you have to re-tie your knots. When the fish are rising to everything except your fly. It may not seem like it. And you may not notice it, but these are the times when something special happens between you and the river and the fish you chase.