Rotten Parking

Sometimes the last parking spot at the end of the lot isn't so rotten after all...

Week One

Well, I made it.  After a long winter of unemployment and a seemingly longer drive across country, I am now trapped in paradise, getting paid hourly to do something I love to do.  Fly fish.

I've spent almost a week here already and right away I can tell that this is going to be a great summer.  I rolled into 4UR Ranch last Tuesday and began work on Wednesday.  We did quite a bit of work around the ranch the first couple days but managed to get a few floats down the Rio Grande ripping streamers for whatever gave chase.  Once we exhausted the duties needed around the ranch, the real "work" began and I have since been spending all of my days walking the rivers and fishing the highlighted holes (and getting paid for it).  The two veteran guides Les and Jesse have been showing me and the other new guide A.J. the ropes, telling us where the fish are and how to fish them.  Most of the creek is pretty self explanatory but there are some sneaky spots that I wouldn't necessarily fish unless the fishing was crap, because at that point, you will try just about anything.

The fishing on Goose Creek is just dumb.  I know that it will eventually become pretty technical and we will have to really work to get our guests on fish, but for right now, the fish have not seen flies for the entire winter and don't think twice about eating a #2 girdle bug or giant foam on top.  The fish that are coming up to eat on the surface have no business eating what we are throwing at them.  So to repeat myself, the fishing is absolutely dumb.

Yesterday, the three other guides and I were on our way to the water to do what's called "mock guiding" where the two veteran guides act like idiots and fish left handed.  They will act out every bad habit that they have ever seen to put us on the spot and correct them.  It was a particularly windy day yesterday and on our way to the river, we spotted a mini tornado, whipping up dust and debris into a sporadic vortex.  I have to take a moment and remind you that this is a dude ranch.  With horses.  That crap.  Everywhere.  So what we saw as flying debris, was soon realized to be horse shit whipping us in the face and getting all over us.  A good old fashioned poop twister.  Anyway, after wiping off all of the fecal layer that we were so blessed to be baptized in, we eventually got to the water.  Les was my "guest" and he acted like he had never seen a fly rod before.  He proceeded to bring out every bad habit and mistake that every guest has ever done while guiding them.  Tangling his line, walking into good fishing water, asked every ridiculous question known to a fly fishing guide, and then when I finally got him into a fish, he straight lined the fish by pointing his rod tip right at about an 18 inch brown trout, nearly breaking him off before I corrected him.  If this is what it will be like, I will not be at a lack of patience before this summer is through.

I've almost seen the entire river as of today.  I only have two more stations to fish before I have fished the entire 6 miles of river.  I'm looking forward to spending more time on my own and really breaking this water down and figuring out its secrets.  When the fishing gets tough, every guide needs his bag of tricks to make sure the day is a success.  I'm not a magician yet, but I will try my best to at least have a couple of go-to places where I know I will have the opportunity for fish.

Until then, I am enjoying meeting all of the staff here and living in one of the most beautiful places I have seen.  There isn't an angle of this valley that doesn't take my breath away.  The great thing is, it will only get better from here.

Concrete Jungle

My trip began on a Wednesday.  With my compass pointed west, I dedicated myself to a solid 13 hours on the road with plans to sleep in the bed of my truck that night.  Some might say that snoozing in your car is uncomfortable and arduous.  However, after purchasing a cheap 4 inch foam mattress pad and a plastic zip up cover that you would buy for a toddler who pisses himself at night, my capped truck bed has been transformed into a cozy suite.  I often sleep better while car camping than I do at home in my own bed.  Anyway... after a much needed burger and a beer (ok, maybe more than one beer), I began the familiar search for a place to park my truck for the night without being awakened by a flashlight tapping the glass.  I found a spot that looked comfortable and legal, threw the truck into "Park" and began the process of preparing my bed.

It is always interesting when camping whether it is in a tent, a car or out in open space with nothing between you and nature.  The best and sometimes the worst part of camping is the vulnerability to the sounds of your surroundings.  The meditating sounds of chirping crickets or rain drops on your tent are always welcomed.  However, the sounds of breaking branches, foot steps, blood curdling screams from some animal that probably didn't make it, leave your curiosity and imagination at work, painting horrible pictures of potentiality in your mind.

Once my bed was ready, I climbed in, closed the hatch and lay there in darkness, left only to my thoughts and the prevailing sounds.  This was a different experience, however.  The sounds were different.  On many occasions, I shot up to look out the windows because it sounded as if something was walking outside my truck.  I could hear voices in the distance, uttering incomprehensible dialogue, random laughter and yelling.  Screeching tires.  Occasional honking horns.  Sirens sounded.  And as I am listening to all of this, I realized that it doesn't matter where or when you camp, each place will be distinct, conversing its own language of sounds.  As I looked up the final time, I felt the comfort of the giant blue and white sign and realized that the people of Wal Mart never sleep.

Never.  

Change

Change is a funny thing.  It is as ambiguous as it is direct and final.  It is a process that can be out of our control but can also be chosen.  It can have positive or negative effects on our lives and it can be feared or embraced.  Individuals react to change differently, which is why each of us are able to carve out our own unique path and the different experiences we encounter.  In fly fishing, change never sleeps.  The river lives and breathes and is in a constant state of motion, never seizing, relentless.  We, as fisherman, must embrace the change laid out before us and adjust, knowing that failure will always linger, but serve as the all-knowing teacher of veracity and adaptability.  It is change that keeps the fire within burning strong.  It keeps us driven and coming back for more even if we are continually humbled by Mother Nature’s intricacies.   

But, change soars well beyond the confines of the river’s edge.  It is easy to see why change can be terrifying.  The type of change we cannot control haunts every one of us.  It is the shadow we will never escape, looming in the distance until abruptly masking our lives with blinding pain and sorrow.  From the worldly effects of war and terror to the more personal (and often most difficult) effects of depression, divorce, unemployment, foreclosure, sickness and death, change can often be a dish served cold and bitter.  Having experienced most of these already in my life, it is easy for me to understand why we as a society strive to remain stagnant, stuck in a rut of insecurity and fear of the unknown.  We are concerned not only about the pain in our own lives, but the effects of our decisions on the ones we love most.  Many choose to remain still, paralyzed by the fear that their insignificant ripples may spread and develop into capsizing swells of emotion.

For many people, however, change is a welcomed part of life and sought after.  Without change, life for these individuals is left bland and fruitless.  Curiosity and adventure rule their decisions with very little regard to consequence or expectation. There is a willingness to live life on the edge, try new things, to take the leap of faith with no comprehension of who or what is there to catch them other than hope and the inability to accept failure.  

I somehow straddle the line between the yin and the yang of change.  I have always looked to broaden my range of experiences whether it is trying new foods, traveling, learning new hobbies or dedicating my life to a specific skill.  I more recently have ditched a devout path towards medicine, pointed my compass west and enjoyed three years of Montana living only to get hired a year later as a fly fishing guide in Colorado.  What I have discovered about myself is that I love the results and rewards that change creates.  However, as much as I need change in my life, I do dread the transitional process involved.  My moves from Wisconsin to Montana, from Montana back to Wisconsin and now from Wisconsin to Colorado each initially left me feeling alone and overwhelmed by doubt and emotion.  I understand and anticipate the benefit and growth that will result from the process, yet I am abandoning everything that is good about the life I have previously known.  Why do I choose to continually leave, especially when it means leaving my family that I need by my side?  What is it that is driving me to desert the security of the present and seek the unknown future?  Curiosity is a difficult beast to tame.

At this stage of my life, I refuse to not take advantage of my youth and settle.  There are too many stones that are unturned in my life to allow myself to ignore what it is that calls to me.  I don’t want to be the man looking back on his life with regret wishing I had done things differently.  I have decided to take the path that my gut has dictated and embrace the changes, good and bad.  “What if?” can only be answered by exploring what it is in question and hoping for the best.  As we wade through turbulent waters, we can be blinded to the possible stepping-stones laid before us.  If we cannot dedicate our focus toward the other shore with a certain excitement, dedication and optimism, we risk being swept away by the relentless currents of negativity, further keeping us from reaching our lives’ true potential.