Colorado River / Glenwood Springs I spent six winters in Alaska before moving to Grand Junction Colorado. My wife had been suffering the winter blues, being far from family and regular doses of sunshine. The thinking was that she would be able to thrive under Colorado’s bountiful sunshine and I would have a chance to get in some winter fishing time. During the summer, I have a guiding business on Alaska’s Kenai River. The fishing season goes by while I guide and there is little time left for personal fishing. Occasionally, Alaska’s winter allows some open water fishing time, but not much. Colorado promised much better. Grand Junction is relatively mild sitting in a valley at 4600 feet elevation. I was growing used to daytime highs approaching and sometimes exceeding 40 degrees throughout January. It was with great excitement that I accepted an invitation to go fishing with Jerry Schaeffer, owner of Western Anglers Fly-Shop in Grand Junction.

We met at the fly shop and were on I-70 heading East by 7:00 a.m. Also joining Jerry, were Jesse and Bill, both employees from the shop. Our first destination would be a stretch of the Roaring Fork River just above Glenwood Springs. Now I consider myself to be a fishing fanatic, but when we passed through Glenwood Springs, I was wondering just how serious an angler I was. The temp was about 8 degrees and a stiff wind was blowing down the canyon. We pulled into a subdivision, parked on the street, and got geared up on the sidewalk. Two dogs in a yard in front of us rolled around on their backs in the snow as we struggled into waders. I swear they knew we were going fishing and it was killing them. We crossed the street, cut down a pathway toward the river and there it was.

The Roaring Fork: A gleaming river of slush. Ignoring the obvious, we rigged up and tried to fish behind rocks, which divided the slush and left little patches of open flowing water. After about three casts, my 5-wt line felt like a 600 grain shooting head. The line became a glacier, building with each cast. We took a pause and stared at the water. Jerry made some comments like; “It’s really not that cold. The river should be fishable after the sun gets a little higher.” I remember saying something like: “In Alaska, when the river looks like this, we wait five months.” Bill mentioned that I should have worn crampons after I slipped and fell on the ice. Then we left and got some hot chocolate at a gas station. The gas station has a nice patch of the Colorado River flowing behind it. Jerry said he was going to go take a look at the water. With steaming cocoa in hand, he went to survey the river. There was a steady flow of ice cakes moving downstream, but the sun was getting higher and it appeared that the gaps between the ice were widening. Jerry said; “I came to fish.” With that said, he loaded up his pack, grabbed his fly rod and was off to the river. He was soon connected to a feisty rainbow, then, another and then another. It was apparent that Jerry knew something about that stretch of river.

After watching Jerry put on a clinic, I moved upstream and found a good-looking run. I too was soon connected to a powerful rainbow. The fish surged away with my frozen reel screaming in protest. I got a good look at a wide twisting body before the 6X tippet parted and the trout disappeared with my #22 red midge. Soon however, I was re-rigged and fast into another rainbow. Before I knew it, the sun was warm on my face and it was afternoon. We had all managed to land some fish and it was time to enjoy a picnic lunch courtesy of our host Jerry. Comparing notes over sandwiches, it was apparent that a #14 “Oregon Cheese” colored “Glo-bug” trailing a #18-22 “Lee’s Ferry Midge” was the ticket. Jerry has a special midge that you’ll need to stop in at his shop to discover, but the standard red and black Lee’s Ferry Midges were catching their share of fish. Besides Rainbows, Jesse said he rolled a big brown and also landed a 15” Brook Trout. Bill had also taken a nice brown and some whitefish. Jerry said he wasn’t catching much of anything, but we all knew better. Soon after lunch, Jerry moved us down farther into the Canyon and out of the warm sun.

As I looked at the dark cold stretch of water we were about to fish, I had a flashback to the morning. Guide icing and frozen fingers were soon ignored though, as the rainbows put on a savage bite. Jerry was fast into a big trout, followed soon after by Bill. Then I hooked up and so did Jesse. During the next two hours, we had several doubles. Jerry had a fish on about every two minutes. Bill caught his biggest trout yet on a fly and Jesse and I each managed some respectable fish. The Canyon water is deep and a shelf of ice extended out from the edge in places. We’d venture as far as we dared on the questionable ice and cast our lines. My first fish almost pulled me into the Colorado as my frozen felts began sliding on the smooth ice. We must have looked rather comical or possibly seriously stupid to the faces pressed in the windows of a passing Amtrak train. I didn’t care. It was the most fun I’d had since my last float down the Upper Kenai with friends on October 4th. We squeezed every ounce out of the day. It was getting dark when we finally made our way back to Jerry’s Suburban. Jesse’s wading boots were blocks of ice. Jerry, Bill and I got a chuckle out of watching him struggle and curse trying to dislodge them from his frozen stocking foot waders. Eventually, we were all back inside the warm vehicle and heading down to Junction. If Jerry ever invites me to go fishing again, you can bet I’ll be on board.

Despite the cold of early February, we enjoyed a memorable day of fishing. I ended up catching my biggest trout in Colorado to date and I gained a whole lot of confidence about fishing in cold weather. Summer will find me back chasing wild rainbows in Alaska, but for now, I am extremely happy to enjoy Colorado’s awesome year-round fishing.

Mysticfish