Fall Fishing

[Grizzly Wulff]

I think the fall is my favorite time of the year to fish here in Colorado. The streams and the air are crystal clear, the fall aspens are yellow and gold, and for the most part the tourists have departed. Yesterday I headed up into RMNP for an afternoon of fishing dry flies to small fish. The elk have moved down from the high country and the bulls are busy protecting their harems, I could hear them bugling around me all afternoon. The two Browns in the pictures rose to a size 16 Olive Stimulator.




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Dan S
The poster formerly known as Outrider

the fall is definately my favorite time of year to fish. the browns and brookies are feeding regularly and aggressively, the hatches of caddis and baetis are as predictable as the sunrise, the typically overcast and calm days provide sensational dry fly action, and, for the most part, the tourists and "weekend warriors" have gone home and left the rivers to the "diehards", of which i am a proud member .

the only time i enjoy more is a beautiful, crisp 40 degree day in february with large browns and small flies...

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Everyone dies. Only the lucky ever truly Live. Take your time.

Chris-Bishop, CA, USA

[Pete Hiatt]

On the West Coast, the salmon come home in the Fall (well, late Spring, too). It is a great excuse to hit thew coast for salmon, crabbing, clamming, and berry picking. Life is good.

[MOturkE]

Persimmons are getting close to ripening, they look fairly fat and plentiful this year, just hope we get some before the critters get 'em all.

There's a crispness to the morning and evening air that spurs numerous memories of falls past. Of leaf raking and jumping into the piles, walking through the multi-colored trees along acorn and walnut strewn paths, the smell of the hedge-apples, and the noise of the thousands of birds gathering in the trees for their flight southward. Pumpkins and gourds in the roadside fruit stands, the last little wildflowers blooming in small patches of sunlit earth, and creatures flashing to and fro gathering that last bit of sustanance before winter's chill. And to top it all, the smell of a wood fire or leaves burning, as the sky turns to familiar red, orange and purple hues matched only by those of the trees.
Best of all is the open space around the lake to throw a line in.



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There's almost nothin' wrong with the first lie, it's the weight of all the others holdin' it up that gets ya'! - Tim