Quick Trips

This past week my loving fiancee was in New York for work, which came on the heels of another week away while she enjoyed a trip in Portland with friends. I find these brief periods of once-again-bachelorhood to be perfect opportunities for evening time on the water. Queue a text from friend Addison, surveying interest in a post-work trip up Boulder Creek - talk about good timing.

After working for the day in my company's Boulder office, I met up with Addison and our friend, Dave, in a parking lot at the mouth of Boulder Canyon. Even though it's a small creek trip with limited hours, we still exchange the typical pre-fishing stoke and pleasantries that one grows accustomed to. We rig up and hop in Addison's Forester (official vehicle of Colorado) and drive up the road to find some water.

Addison had initially reached out to us on Sunday after riding in the canyon and spying some optimal runs. Between the few days when we met up, heavy rains had increased the flow of Boulder Creek and flipped the conditions upside down. This year has been particularly wet thanks to a particularly heavy snowpack. Aside from the obvious implications of a longer runoff season, the state also experiences a higher frequency of afternoon rain showers, sometimes supercharged by optimal conditions.

These afternoon showers are in part due to the amount of water held in the soil. On our sunny, warm Summer days, this water evaporates and forms the afternoon storms, which in turn puts water into the ground, which then evaporates, and so on and so on...

High flows on Boulder Creek.

This natural process, a part of our larger water lifecycle, is something one grows accustomed to when you play in nature so frequently. You always take caution of the weather - and for this trip we had to change expectations quickly. Thankfully a little bit of high water can't drown our spirits.

After pulling off and surveying some water, we spot a few runs that could spread us out and might be worth our time. I assume the photographer role and settle behind Addison to film his first few casts. Immediately a trout rises to his caddis fly as it skirts across a pool! However, Addison was standing above the run, and the setting sun cast his shadow downstream, discouraging any further eats.

I picked up my rod and went above the bend to see if I could find any willing trout. After casting at a few spots in a run, I looked towards the very bottom of a pool right before the water crashes over the edge of a boulder. I cast the caddis fly and it skittered across the surface in a long arc. Surprisingly, a trout saw an opportunity and flew at the caddis, missing it entirely, but still putting a smile on my face.

I had low confidence in the water - much of it moving too fast for my taste. Looking for something else, I scrambled over rocks just below the large pool and found some skinnier water pushing around some large rocks. Behind each rock was a calm, slower current which I know to hold trout. Sure enough, I got a small, wild rainbow to eat my caddis after a few casts in the slack water.

There was limited water for us to work over, so we decided to hop back in the car and drive further up river. We determined we could find more optimal water above a few of the feeder creeks. We pulled into a small parking lot up river that promised many more fishable runs. Jumping out of the car we had a renewed excitement at the possibility that this spot will be the spot; so it goes.

Surveying the bottom of a small tail out.

After casting my caddis through several runs and moving around a little, I wasn't finding any luck on water that I thought looked much more attractive than what we had fished. I considered changing up my rig, but I had already gotten the skunk off of my back and had resigned to the fact that I was 'lazy fishing' for the remainder of the afternoon - I was just happy to be there. At least, I thought I was content with catching no more fish until Dave reported that Addison had caught three small browns on a hopper! Quickly changing out the fly to the large terrestrial, I was ready to go again.

A pretty Boulder Creek brown - his eyes may have been larger than his stomach.

Alas, it wasn't meant to be, and after working a few more runs it seemed like the afternoon might be over. I went over and watched Addison and Dave fish for a little while longer, then we all decided to head back into town to have a beer and dinner. We enjoyed ourselves at West End Tavern, breaking down the past few hours and recollecting on previous fishing trips.

The success, or lack thereof, was never a factor in the enjoyment of a quick trip like this one. Watching the sun slowly drift below the canyon walls, painting the brilliant colors across the sky, with bare feet in the water - what could be better for an evening after work? The company of friends makes it that much better.