Our final Midge Mini-Camp of the Winter was held on the weekend of March 1-2, 2003. Originally, there were 6 folks signed up for Camp, but three called in sick: it is that time of year, and stuff is going around. The other three hearty souls met in Longmont in the AM for a day of tying, fish talk, rigging tips, bug cycles and more. We had a fine time, tying a variety of midge patterns during the course of the day. We tied larva, pupa, emerger, adult and spent midge patterns in a variety of sizes and styles, hoping that they would fool the wily trout we intended to fish for the following day.

Snow was in the forecast, and this time the weather-folks were not off base. It began to snow on Saturday while we ate lunch and kept doing so throughout the afternoon. By the time we were ready to leave the shop for Lake George there was a considerable amount of snow on the ground. We stopped to top of the gas tanks and headed out to I-25. There was quite a bit of traffic, and the roads were covered with snow. Following a few near-misses with other vehicles - why is it folks forget how to drive in the snow? - we arrived at the Route 24 exit.

Now there was lots of snow, it was snowing hard and the roads were more than covered. It was the type of driving that would cause a sane person to ask what in the world they were doing out here, anyway. Us? We were going fishing. We knew we'd get there, and that a warm cabin awaited us in Lake George.

Before we'd left Longmont we called the only restaurant in Lake George to see what time they closed. The said 8pm. We said we'd get there right about that time and they said they'd stay open so we could eat. When we were going through Woodland Park, the lady that owned the restaurant called to let us know that she was going to close down and send everyone home - the roads were terrible. So, we stopped at a local, family-owned Italian place in Woodland Park and ate some great chow. It was probably about 8:30 when we got done. Our waitress said that someone had just gotten down from Divide - about 7 miles West of Woodland Park - and that it had taken them an hour to drive it.

We set out and got to Lake George - which is well past Divide - in about a half hour. Just because you couldn't see the road and there were near white-out conditions didn't keep us from driving on. Our friend Tom was waiting to sign us in to the cabins and get us our keys. We went to our rooms and did the nightly stuff you do in a cabin - snack, watch a movie, read a book - and went to bed. Everyone slept great. It was still snowing hard when we retired for the evening.

Upon awaking on Sunday morning, we expected to see snow, clouds and so on. What we found was snow - and lots of it - and a perfectly clear, sunny sky of lovely Colorado blue. There was probably about 14 inches or so of fresh, powdery snow. We went to the local restaurant, ate a hearty breakfast and headed back to the cabin to suit up. It was cold but calm.

The 15-mile drive up the canyon was beautiful. The fresh snow and crystal clear air were scintillating. Beautiful. We watched for the local eagle, which we've seen on several occasions, but it was apparently staying warm somewhere else. When we arrived at the top of the canyon, there were already a few brave souls parked and in the water, fishing. We rigged up, talked about watching for ice in the guides and discussed wading safety. The water promised to be warmer than the air, and was. The air temperature, according to Tom's car thermometer, was minus 16. There was fog coming off the water. It was very pretty.

We stepped into a spot and started hunting for trout. They didn't seem to be there, so Mark took a couple of the guys downstream and I took young Robert up. Robert and I found rising fish within a few minutes, and stayed put for several hours. We caught a few, too. They were very pretty, eating midges from just below or on top of the surface. Robert, who only started fly fishing the summer before, caught a few trout on the surface on his own. He was pretty excited! After a bit, Robert's feet got cold, so we headed back to the Sub to warm him up. When I saw that he was safely on his way to warmth, I headed back to the stream and found Mark, Ed and Tom in the corner pool. Ed was just landing a nice rainbow; he was happy.

For the next hour or so there were fish rising all over the place. The fishing was challenging, but there were feeding fish: what more would a soul want? Especially a waste-of-skin fly fishing soul who was wearing all the clothes he brought? We hooked fish on a variety of patterns, including midge adults, emergers, stuck-in-the-shuck midge emergers and the ultimate in fishing pleasure: orange Griffith's gnats! I had the guys tie them with the usual peacock herl, but palmered orange dyed grizzly hackle through the peacock. A little outlandish, but hey - the fish ate 'em. It was cool, as well as really cold.

The day was progressing toward its end, the sun was drooping in the western sky and everyone was getting a bit chilly. The bugs stopped hatching for the most part, and the fish responded by stopping their feeding activity. Our day of fishing was almost done. On the way down the river I stopped with a couple of guys at one last pool. They had trimmed of their flies, but I still had the Orange Griffith's Gnat with a small stuck-in-the-shuck emerger tied on. I saw one fish rise, made a cast and watched as it came up and sucked in the fly. It escaped, but it was a good end to a great weekend of fun and fly fishing.

We had to take one last look at the first pool we tried to fish. There were midges splattered all over the fresh snow. They're often called "Snow Flies" and that is why. They land on the snow to molt or rest or do whatever emergent midges do, and get frozen onto the surface. A sad way to go, but is it better or worse than being eaten by a rising trout? In order to answer that question, we'll have to go back to collect additional data. Wanna' come?