Magical Water

Today after completing my chores and receiving permission from Heather I decided to head out to one of the reservoirs outside of town. I generally always choose Spinney because I don't have good history with the others. About a week before leaving for Mexico, I told Heather that I had never been skunked in my secret cove at Spinney. This was true. Until today. This is what I was throwing for 5 hours today (in different colors). With a wire leader. That is a workout. It's always difficult casting from a belly boat because you are so close to the surface of the water but I paid much closer attention to my form today and was covering a lot more water than normal. I covered some sexy water today but came up trumps. Shit happens some times. 

It was hot as hell on the water. My thermometer was showing in the low 90's. I thought for sure there might be some big Pike lingering/sunning in the shallows or waiting for prey in the transition spots but I think that window has closed for the most part for the season. Although I didn't see shit all day so I think it might have been too hot.

I saw this older gal when I left town and again when I came back to town. She was driving a pimpin' pink classic Thunderbird. It looked super rad but would look better with fly rods hanging out the back and heading to the water.

Not long after I got on the water I noticed the end of my rod appeared bent. This is an 8 weight carbon rod from Temple Fork Outfitters. I really dig these rods and also have a 5 weight that I abuse the shit out of. Tons of guys break their rods down after they're done for the day. Not me. I throw it in the green wagon and do it again the next day. This 8 weight doesn't see much action at all but I'm gonna start using it more. At least I planned on doing that. There are no cracks in the carbon at all. It's not pinched. I don't know what happened. I have an email into the folks at TF to see if they have any ideas or know if they can fix it.

Tomorrow is Friday and I will fish the moving water. The flows at Spinney Ranch are finally where they need to be and things should be settling in and fish should be setting up. Water flow is so critical. It impacts so many things like plant life, aquatic life, bug reproductivity, water temps, and ultimately...fly fishing. When the water is low it gets hotter. When it gets hotter it doesn't hold as much oxygen. When it doesn't hold as much oxygen, the fish can't breathe as well. When this happens the chances of reviving a fish after a fight are decreased. When the water temps creep up too high, I don't fish. It's just too hard on them. I don't know what the fuck is going on with the flows in Cheesman Canyon but it's not good. Flows are almost 200 cubic feet per second lower than average right now. I wish the Department of Water Resources would open up the dam. I would love to sit and have a beer with someone from DWR and learn more about what controls the flows. What determines when it's time to open the valves? It's gotta be more complex than simply drinking water.

Water always makes me think. Sometimes I sit and watch the river. I pick a piece of water and follow it through the rapids while taking a break. I see the bubbles and follow them. At Spinney Ranch they flow into 11 Mile Reservoir. Then through the dam. Through the canyon. Towards Denver. It flows through Nebraska and eventually dumps into the Missouri which then meets up with the Mighty Mississippi just north of St. Louis. I often think it's interesting that I proposed to my kick ass wife on the banks of the South Platte (at the end of the fence line at the third parking lot if you must know). I never go the that place and fail to think of Heather. As a side note, I was nervous as hell that day and not fishing well. I finally landed a Kokanee Salmon and placed the ring in the net. I handed her the net after I also placed a clump of grass in it and asked if she would remove the grass carefully while I revived the Salmon. She found the ring and I was already on one knee and proposed. My wife was raised on 30 acres at the confluence of the Missouri and the Mississippi. I never really put that all together until after we were already married. It just seemed like the "right place" to ask her to be with my dumb ass for the REST OF HER LIFE. Anyway...that drop of water eventually finds its way to the Gulf of Mexico. One day...that same drop will find it's way back to the South Platte. Maybe right when I'm standing there. So magical. This is the kind of shit that I think about when I am on the water.