What I've been doing in Colorado

David and I left the Denver Tech Center Marriott this morning, dropped off Ryan's flyfishing stuff I had borrowed and headed to Buena Vista, CO. It was an amazing drive along highways 285 and 24 that made a great backdrop for some good conversation. I am at this moment sitting on a crude stool made from an upended sawed log, being warmed by a fire I built, in a gorgeous, rustic but comfortable wood and stone chalet perched at 12,106' overlooking the headwaters of the Arkansas River, journaling for the past several days. The chalet is surrounded by 1000 year old bristlecone pine and currently there is a very impressive lightning storm going on all around me. Many of the bolts are in fact at my elevation out over the valley. The road to get here climbed more than 3000' over a couple miles and was far and away the worst road I have ever been on. It is barely wide enough for one vehicle, one side rocks, trees and the mountain and the other an amazingly steep drop off. Fortunately our rented Ford Edge had enough clearance, but we still scraped several times going over the huge rocks and deep runoff ditches. We of course ran into several vehicles (usually large 4x4 type vehicles) going the opposite direction, which always resulted in a pause while each examined who had an easier job backing up into one of the few places wide enough for two cars side by side. These were often the most dangerous times as we almost tipped over trying to ride too high on the mountain side once to allow a car to pass and several times riding on the very edge of the cliff. A drive I do not want to do again, but glad I can say I have done it.

It is exactly these experiences, theses perfect moments that I began my trip in search of. Yesterday (August 1st, 2007) I flyfished the South Platte River. It is just as I had imagined a perfect mountain river to be with steep valley walls, rock outcroppings, boulders littering the stream, the occasional small waterfall and the promise of seeing a rising trout. I met an older retired gentleman who was leaving as I was suiting up (which takes a while considering there are waders, 4-piece rod, reel, line, leader, tippet, fly that all had to be put together or on when I got there). He seemed eager to talk, and I was glad to try and glean some tidbit of information from him (he did tell me to make sure I visit a certain lake in Wyoming, which I'll not name here, but do plan on stopping to see on my way north). At last I was wading in the river and fished for a couple hours with no success, but not really bothered by it. The reality of being there and the possibility of success was still very satisfying. Eventually I broke for lunch, found a shade tree overlooking the river and had my devotion and practiced guitar for a couple hours. The only things that could have made it better would be to catch a fish or have someone there to share in the realization of the beauty of what was being experienced. When my fingertips began to hurt, I resumed fishing with a grasshopper pattern that I knew would catch fish if I could only give a good presentation (Earlier in the day while walking on the bank a grasshopper had jumped out of my path into the water. Taking this as an opportunity to see if trout were feeding on terrestrials, I watched him as he floated down stream no more than 15 feet before one rose to take him, missed and immediately came up again and sucked him down.). I had fished with this knowledge for perhaps an hour and a half before I saw and heard a fish come and take my own grasshopper pattern as it floated in the current. The knock on the rod confirming that the fish was not only there, but attached to my line was enough excitement and surprise to elicit an “Oh $@!*.” as I frantically tried to take up the slack and fight him from the reel. He was a rather small brown, no more than a pound, but if you have seen trout and especially if you have enticed one to take a dry fly or floating pattern with a fly rod, you know their beauty and supremacy above all other fish. After much blundering I at last reeled him close, but not having a net, had to try and grab him bare handed (no easily task using a 9 foot rod and thigh deep in water). My line broke and he was gone. And yet the happiness I got from that touch with God's creation is really more than I can express. I think I will go stand outside and watch the lightning a bit. Tomorrow David and I attempt Mt. Princeton, my first 14'er (14'er is short for 14,000 peak. Though not extremely dangerous, they aren't something most people can just do, especially a flatlander like me, so I'm a little nervous.). This is the happiest I have been in a long time. I praise and thank God for His graciousness and blessings.

Later ,

Seth

(Sorry if you found the fish story boring, but it's my blog, and that's what I've been doing.)