I fished last week with my friend Gene. It was in the 50s, bright and sunny, and the wind was strangely absent. Gene was on the oars while I mended a drift down a shelf that’s a hundred yards or so long. Halfway through, without a bite, I asked Gene if he thought I needed to get my flies closer to the shelf.
Then, my indicator shot under. I set the hook into a brown that jumped immediately, and tore off downstream. Of course, we realized in that moment we’d left the net back in the truck, so we had to get creative with landing this fish.
Once it was released, I looked back at the water I’d caught him in. It was quick and shallow, on the downstream side of a wide riffled that piled off into a deeper run. Even though it was February, the fish was holding in faster, quicker water than I think I’ve ever found them this time of year.
Granted, this hasn’t been a normal winter. Where I live in Wyoming is usually good for a couple cold snaps that drop the mercury to -30. The coldest it got this year was, I believe, -9.
And if you’ve been following the news at all, you know the West is in a snow drought, and this summer’s fishing isn’t looking great. But if mid-50s in February mean I get to fish like it’s April, I’ll try not to complain too much.
The rest of the day Gene and I fished, all the trout we found were in shallow, quick water. Part of that might be that the rainbows are staging for their spawn, but they haven’t even dug any redds yet. I saw more than a handful of blue-winged olives, along with a nice midge hatch, that again, I’ve never seen in February.
We’ve been waiting for winter all season now, and I don’t think it’s coming. Sure, we might get a few spring snow dumps, but that happens every year. Right now, it’s about taking advantage of whatever fishing we have before flows drop and rivers warm up too much.
Even the creek behind my house is showing signs that it’s done with winter. This creek is mostly pocket water, so the fish vacate vast stretches of it during winter, migrating downstream to where it meanders through ranches, or they pile into the few deep, slow pools in the canyon. The creek usually ices up in November, and stays that way until March. But a quick drive up there yesterday showed the ice was mostly gone. I didn’t find any fish in the hour I tossed flies, but I’m sure they’ll show up soon.
I guess I’m sad I missed out on the regular winter fishing this year. There’s something calming about fishing the day after snowfall, when the world is quiet and pristine. The cold seeps into your bones and your fingers freeze, but you’re out there fishing when most folks aren’t, and it’s hard to shake the feeling of satisfaction from doing something normal people consider crazy.
That said, I’d love to be proven wrong. If we got snowed in by a month’s worth of blizzards, I don’t think anyone in the Rockies would complain. We need it, but right now, it looks like winter is gone. Maybe we’ll meet it again later this year.