Fishing with Mom

Monday, August 27 - Fishing with Mom

Mom and her first ever cutthroat.  A Colorado River Cutthroat at that.  On a dry fly her first time ever fly fishing! 

I'm a momma's boy.  I always have been.  I suppose I always will be.  Mom is quite a trooper and she always takes good care of her boys. She enjoys fishing, but it seems that she is bad luck.  Additionally, she is always so worried about making sure everyone else is having a good time, sometimes she forgets to sit back and enjoy things herself.

This summer Mom, Dad, and my brother Connor went on a walleye fishing trip to Canada with Dad's side of the family.  Dad and Connor are walleye die-hards, so this trip was awaited with great anticipation.  Finally they went.  After a week with no cell reception, the first person I talked to was Mom.  Mom skipped the formalities.  She didn't ask about how I was, or even how the C-ster was.  Nope.  She went on for 30 minutes about how good the fishing was and how many fish SHE caught.  I thought that was pretty cool.  I knew that I had to take her fishing with me while we were together.

Mom had never learned to fly fish.  Dad and I had offered to teach her, but for years she battled moderate to severe carpal tunnel, and was terrified and that slinging a fly rod around all day would ruin her wrists, so she never attempted it.  A few years ago she had surgery on her wrists, and the results were miraculous (which is not always the case with this surgery)!  Her pain had vanished, and she is free again.  It was time to teach her how to fly fish!

Thistle on a beautiful high desert creek.

We headed out early in the morning to fish a creek I have been reading a lot about.  I fished it once with decent success, but I knew there was more to it.  I met Mom dark and early and we were off.  The location I wanted to fish required a hike, so I brought my backpacking backpack. After a forty-five minute hike we reached some good looking water, so we swapped our hiking boots for old shoes to wet wade in, got the rods set up, and hit the water.

As we approached the first small hole I could see two fish rising.  Mom wanted me to go first so she could get an idea of what to do.  I tied on a small hopper, and first cast - boom!  Missed!  About 5 casts later, though, another fish came up and I brought a small brown to hand.  I gave Mom some quick instructions, and she was up.  On her third cast she missed her first rise.  "That was more than I was expecting to get all day," she said.  "I think you're going to get a few more chances," I assured her.  I meant it, and luckily I was right!

First fish of the day.  We're on the board!

I had caught a few more fish and Mom had missed a couple more rises when we came upon a nice hole that presented an easy drift.  Better yet, there were two fish rising in it.  Again, Mom wanted me to go first.  I quickly caught the lower of the two fish, which was a nice one, and was able to keep it out of the body of the hole.

Mom!!!  I add this shot just to illustrate another one of Mom's new found talents: taking really blurry pictures of my bigger fish.  No, this was not the only one!

Mom's second cast was on the money, and BOOM! a brown comes up and takes the dry.  Mom set the hook like a pro and could soon feel the weight of the fish.  "Now what do I do?" she yelled!  Luckily she kept her composure just long enough for me to get the net under the fish.  She was pretty excited!

Mom's first trout on a fly rod. Way to go Mom!

The rest of the day progressed beautifully.  We took turns fishing, and we each had plenty of opportunities at the willing trout.  One very deep hole next to a large boulder was especially memorable.  I cast my fly into the head of the hole and got a subtle rise.  As soon as the fish felt the hook it exploded into the air.  Mom flipped out, "Oh my gosh, Kirk, that thing is a monster - don't loose it!"  She didn't even want to net it because she was afraid she would mess up.  I reassured her that I'd lost bigger fish and that she would do a great job - and she did.  We were both fired up.  She then proceeded to take four incredibly out of focus trophy shots of me with the biggest fish (about 17") of the day. Oh well!

A while later came the highlight of the trip.  We had just come through some pocket water where we had beat up on smaller browns and brookies.  There was a shallow riffle pushing into slightly deeper water along the bank.  I told Mom that often feeding fish will position themselves in shallower water, so she should fan cast the riffle.  As she cast to the middle of the creek a big pink gill plate rose to the fly.  Mom timed the hook set perfectly, and she had a beautiful cutthroat on.  "Mom, that's a nice fish and it's a cutt - let's do this right."  "Kirk, you take the rod, I don't want to lose him!"  "No way Mom, he's yours, you've got him - just remember that if he runs you need to give him line and don't point the rod tip right at him."  There was only one moment when I thought the fish was a goner.  Other than that, Mom played him perfectly, and soon we had him in the net.  Mom was ecstatic!  It was a riot for me just to see her so excited!  We took some pictures and gently returned the beautiful fish back to its home.


Another shot of Mom with her trophy.  If only pictures could transmit excitement!

Colorado River Cutthroat.  Beautiful fish.  Remember what this fish looks like, because he'll be in more pictures from another day!

By this point we had some thunderheads building above us.  Welcome to the West.  Also, Mom was done.  She had caught her trophy, and she was now content just to watch me fish.  Cutts are undoubtedly my favorite trout, and I was certainly a little jealous that Mom had caught one and I hadn't.  Luckily, I got my opportunity on my very next cast, and was able to land a decent cutt of my own.

Another pretty cuttie from the same riffle.

I caught a few more fish as we worked our way out, but none as memorable as Mom's perfect cutthroat.  Living across the country from my parents I cherish the time that I get to spend with them, and I can't think of anywhere I would rather spend that time than in the middle of a beautiful mountain trout stream.  Thanks Mom, for an awesome day!


Dark Colorado River Cutthroat.

Chubby little pocket water brookie.