To me a hat is virtually as important as waders, and I layer shirts, remembering my vest will also provide some warmth. Don’t forget inside, a nice hot thermos of coffee, has brought many a sigh of satisfaction.

Fishing:

Winter trout fly fishing requires some adjustments. Plan on sub-surface fishing primarily. The warm afternoons like I mentioned above will produce Blue Wing Olive hatches in many locations, and midges hatch year round as well. Some dry fly action can occur, especially on smaller streams where options are less for trout. But by and large plan on fishing nymphs. And plan on fishing them deep. Depending on size of water, a split or two is mandatory, and perhaps a sinking tip line. I usually use two flies, one as a dropper. Good patterns include, imitations of food sources that are available year round like San Juan Worms, Chironomid Pupas, Disco Midge, and Wd-40’s. General nymph patterns like Hare’s Ear and Prince Nymphs, will work to imitate occasional nymph that might come in trout’s path.. Streamers also make excellent winter flies, including Woolly Buggers, Muddler’s and Mickey Finn’s. Don’t forget that like trout, small fish and nymphs metabolism is slow as well, and they are apt to stick to bottom, and out of main current.

Winter fishing usually means clear water. I use lighter tippet than normal, because fish seem more easily spooked. Trout’s metabolism makes them want to seek out pools near bank that are warmed by sun, so they are more vulnerable. I usually forgo strike indicators as well. Also remember that due to slower metabolism, fish will be sluggish. They often will bite gingerly, hook-ups will be primarily in tongue. As trout may often go after several small insects in one mouthful. So rigorous setting of hook is not required.

They are not likely to chase food down, as this will burn more calories then they will take in. Especially when fishing smaller patterns. While small pattern are very effective, in fact first choice of many winter angler’s, they need to be fished deep, and in front of fish. Dead drifting nymphs is my first choice. If no luck I will try swinging streamers, second. I mend my line as soon as it hits water, to ensure a drag free drift, and wait for gentle take. I let fish do setting.

Once landed winter fish might need more that it’s usual care before allowing it to swim free. Landing fish should be quicker do to their lower energy, and then one must make sure fish is 100% revived before it’s release.

Summary:

There you have it, like all forms of fly fishing winter fly fishing takes a little practice, and a lot of patience. But surreal beauty of winter combined solitude it brings, makes this an especially rewarding time of year, to flog water.

With all this hanging over us, we pushed off to face four days of nothing but each other and fishing and talking to occupy our time. The days progressed well enough, weather was good for late May, fishing was superb, and conversation came quite naturally.

It was last night that I’ll never forget. As we pulled out for one last night of camping, we fished for awhile. Figuring fish had been more than generous to me, I reeled in and set about tasks of setting up camp and making dinner. The canyon echoed with shouts of an excited thirteen year, ‘Dad I got another one,’ or ‘Dad this one’s bigger than last one.’ Several times I looked up from my preparations to admire latest fish.

After dinner my son decided to head downstream to try his luck. Asking if I was coming, I told him to go ahead and I’ll clean up. Once again he was catching fish. So I strolled down to watch. He looked up at said, ‘what about that spot right down there?’ I told him I thought it looked good. He moved down and on first cast in waning twilight he hooked into a monster. By far biggest fish of his life. Three times it went airborne before my overly anxious son tightened down on it too much, and big native rainbow snapped off fly.

I feared disappointment, but as my son turned around, he smiled and said, ‘that was awesome dad.’ Indeed, I thought, it was. He finished reeling in, and as I watched this boy becoming a man, falling in love with whole fly fishing experience, I knew I would never forget that fish. The one that got away.

Conversation flowed that night we talked about his Mother and me, we talked about future, we talked about father and sons. We got to know each other again. A relationship that flourishes to this day. It is hard not be passionate about an activity that can give you moments like that.