Hi.

I'll be guiding and teaching at Boxwood Gulch, Longmeadow and Lake Maria and would enjoy having you, you and a friend or business group, church or other group join me for a day of fly fishing fun!

All three areas are beautiful and the fishing is great. You, your friends and business associates will have the entire property to yourselves. Each property has a flat per person fee. Gratuity is not included.

I'll provide all the equipment you'll need, including fly fishing outfit, waders and boots and all the flies we'll use on the trip. You are also welcome to bring and use your own.

When you register a group the property - and guide(s) - is yours for the entire day! We don't say we'll start at 8AM and must finish by 4PM like most places. We fish all day or until everyone feels they are done! It is a relaxed day, full of fun, good conversation, excellent fly fishing instruction and much more.

Delightful memories will be made.

Available Now!

I'll be listing trip dates that are available within the next few days right here. Need to go fishing now? Tomorrow? The next day? Please contact me by calling 303-651-6061. Leave a message - in case I'm guiding that day; I'll call you back in the evening to set your trip.

This can be for one or two people. Often, we can add one person to an existing group and everyone will have a good time. At the most we have three people per guide.

Boxwood Gulch

It's private. It has great water and huge fish. The clubhouse is delightful for lunch or a quick nap. Boxwood Gulch is a great place to spend a day!

This offers a wonderful day to bring a group of business associates, friends, family members of a combination of all of the above to fish both stretches of water!

Call to reserve your time at 303-651-6061 or drop me a note at angler@peakpeak.com Thanks!

Boxwood Gulch is $270.00 per person.

If you are a single angler and would like to join someone else for a day on the water, please let me know by calling or writing!

Boxwood Guided Fishing one person; (up to five others may be added)
$270.00 per person.

My guides and I are excited about helping you enjoy a great day on this water! I hope you'll join us for a splendid experience.

Available Boxwood Gulch Days

Long Meadow

This property is adjacent to Boxwood Gulch. It is available with Boxwood, as above, or separately for two to six anglers.

The water here is varied an beautiful and offers the opportunity to cast dry flies, fish a dry and dropper or fish with nymphs and streamer patterns. Big fish live here, and thrive.

Call to reserve your time at 303-651-6061 or drop me a note at angler@peakpeak.com Thanks!

Long Meadow Ranch is $230.00 per person.

If you are a single angler and would like to join someone else for a day on the water, please let me know by calling or writing!

Longmeadow Guided Fishing one person; (up to five others may be added)
$230.00 per person

Lake Maria

Located just to the east of Walsenburg, Colorado, Lake Maria hosts lots of huge trout! In addition to the great fishing there's a lodge ($100.00 per night) that's available to anglers who'd like to spend more than one day fishing the water. The lodge has a complete kitchen, bunks that will sleep four, two bathrooms and a great area for fly tying, lounging and relaxing.

Dave and his friend, at right, were sure happy they spent two days fishing at Lake Maria!

If a larger group would like to fish there are several local hotels/motels available for sleeping. We would still do meals at the lodge.

Here are the fees:

To reserve a date, please click on this PayPal button and make a deposit. I'll call you with all the details and to find out what you'd prefer for the day! The deposit is $300.00. Thanks!

I hope to guide you on one of these properties soon! We'll have a great time fishing, commiserating and enjoying the water, the fish, the bugs and life!

For more info, please call me at 303-651-6061 (please leave a message and I'll call you back) or by dropping me a line at angler@peakpeak.com

These times will fill fast!

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Trip Reports & Stories

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Here are a few notes and stories about trips of Mid-April 2006

I had the privilege to guide several groups last week. We had fun. Each day was different. I got burnt to a crisp on Wednesday and Friday, and about froze on Saturday, with blowing snow and so on. Still, all of us had fun, folks hooked fish and, best of all, I'm pretty sure everyone learned about reading the water, casting, presenting the fly and hooking, playing, landing and releasing beautiful trout.

Jack & His Sons

Steve & Steele: April 23, 2006

You'll probably remember my friend Steve from an earlier trip to Long Meadow Ranch. (The first story of April.) There was an opening on Boxwood for the 23rd of April and when I announced it Steve called to say he wanted the date. "I'll bring my second son," he said. "I'm taking my oldest son to Alaska this summer, and it is Steele's turn this time around."

When we met at the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey none of us were quite sure that Steele was awake. So it is with fifteen year-old boys. Those of you who are male will understand this. He had on sunglasses and his hat was on backwards; everything seemed just fine. Few words passed out of his mouth; most of the breakfast went in, however. The words that did emanate from within were a jumbled blend of grunts, groans and relatively complete sentences.

I knew we'd have a great day.

Within a few minutes of getting to the water Steele hooked a fish. It was a nice rainbow, fought hard and did what trout do: try to get away. A photogenic slime ball, this fish made its way into the annals of history and Steve and Steele's memory banks, where it will remain for all time. I suspect the fish will grow in grandeur, which is the right thing for a nice fish to do.

A few minutes later, he hooked another fish. Then, another. I was impressed with how responsive Steele was to our conversation - it was what I expected when I found out he loved music. (You'll notice that by this time Steele's hat was gone. We both lost our hats to a massive gust of wind. Unfortunately his hit the current and was swept off to parts east; mine landed in an eddy and soon found its way back onto my noggin.)

The wind blew most of the day. The water was high and clear. There were plenty of spots for trout to hide out, but the high water gave them an unrealistic sense of safety: we hooked 'em, anyway! Ah ha!

Steve was very happy that Steele was hooking fish. We took a walk around the Oxbow. Steve hooked a couple of good fish in a deep run, then we changed to a dry fly, just to see if we could get a fish to come up and take it. There were a few fish rising and sometimes we can force-feed them with a large dry fly. It's fun. Steele rigged up with a large dry fly and a smaller olive Hare's Ear Nymph. As he fished through a run he let the fly drift downstream. The dry hung in the current and the nymph swung gently below and then past the dry. A large cuttbow ate the wet as it dangled in the current at the end of the drift; the fight was splashy as the fish did not have being hooked on its day timer. Another happy angler; another sad trout. (It is important to remember that as anglers we remember our trout, and that trout, as trout, forget. We might have hooked this fish again that day if we'd tried; who knows? Either way neither fish nor angler were any the worse for wear.)

After this fish Steele announced, "Dad. I'm not going to make another cast until you hook another fish." Noble for a fifteen-year-old, huh? Steve had hooked fish - some very nice fish - but I don't think Steele had seen him land any. So we kept moving and fishing. At one point we saw a few rainbows spawning in the Oxbow, so we moved back to the main fork of the stream. Steve waded to the edge of some deep water and made some great casts. Within a few he'd hooked and landed several lovely trout.

"Why don't we move downstream and try a couple of other spots, just to see what's going on?" I said.

"I'm in," said Steve.

"I'll carry the net," said Steele.

When we stopped at a spot and I pointed out a big pocket Steve gave me a look and then said what the look insinuated. "You want me to cast in there? In that spot?"

"Let's give it a try."

"Okay. Here we go."

A few casts later Steve was hooked into the fish of the day. It was a brute. All three of us saw it several times. The water was very heavy in this spot, and deep and churning. However, the spot where the fish was hooked was moving slowly, gently bringing chow to the fish that stayed within the spot.

I blew it on the landing and the fish came unhooked.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"That's okay," said Steve.

In the end all three of us were happy anglers. Steele was wide awake, although he offered to eat a few cookies and take a nap on the ride home. I think they'll be back.

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Bob & Chris April 28, 2006

It's another Father-Son story. Just the way it worked out, you see. Bob lives in Green Bay, Wisconsin and his son, Christopher, is a student at CU. About three months ago Bob called and asked if I would take he and Chris fishing on the 28th of April for Chris's birthday. It was going to be a surprise. (Chris informed me that it was not that big a surprise; his folks told him about it.) When the trip was scheduled little did we know that in addition to being a celebration of life and Chris's birthday the 28th of April would also be a celebration of bamboo fly rods!

Bob was the first one to order the latest edition of Joe Arguello's lovely fly rods. When I announced that Joe was going to start building rods again Bob was the first to write back and say, "I'll take one!" That was the entire email. Joe built him a lovely 7'6" 3/2 4-weight (that's a 3-piece bamboo rod with 2 tips for a 4-wieght fly line.) Bob also had another new cane rod from a friend in Wisconsin. Chris rigged up the 8'6" 5-weight 3/2 and Bob set up Joe's rod.

Joe and our good friend Frank were also on hand to enjoy the first cast and first fish on this renewed endeavor to build more rods. When Chris hooked and landed the beautiful rainbow shown at the left Joe got in the water for a picture. Frank took the shot and shared it with me so I could share it with you. Cool, huh? While Bob is not in the shot he is smiling, too. More fish were caught using the cane rods because that's all we fished with that day!

The day was overcast, cool and snowy all day. At times it snowed hard! The water was still pretty high - probably running about 300CFS - and clear. The fish were spread out in spots you'd expect fish to be. It's just how fish are.

Most of the fish we hooked ate nymphs. The water temperature never got to 40° and very few bugs emerged. A fish did rise from time to time. I think they were taking small stonefly adults. Bob hooked several nice trout on a caddis imitation and I think we forced a few fish to eat larger dry flies.

As is my usual bent to things, we spent time working on casting, presenting the fly, making a good drift and controlling the line position. When all of these things came together at the right time and in the right place fish were fooled. Chris landed the lovely brown trout shown here, at right.

In one case I said to Bob, "Let's just put on one dry fly and cast along the edge above us. Maybe we'll move a good fish in there." Bob was good with the idea, so we clipped the nymphs off, added several feet of 4X tippet - the lightest I've been using on this water - and a special, yet silly, little dry fly I tied to imitate the little stoneflies. (The pattern has a Royal body with an antron shuck trailing, an orange foam post for visibility and a brown parachute-style hackle; it is silly-looking.)

The water just off the bank was relatively calm; the water adjacent and just a little further out was roaring. Bob made some very good cast. On the right one - you know, the one that works - a good fish came up and sipped the fly. Bob set the hook and the fight was on. When we landed the fish we saw that it was a brown trout of about 18" or so. Upon further examination we found the fish was lovely. In addition to the buttery yellow and brown coloration common to brown trout, this fish had a blue cast from the gill plates all along its side to the tail. We were awed by its beauty, and gazed upon the fish in our net for some time. Plenty of "wows" and "can you believe this's" were shared with the fish. The fish didn't seem all that fazed by our beauty, but there's no accounting for taste in fish.

After a quick lunch we headed downstream to see about hooking some fish on dries. We covered lots of water and hooked more fish. Chris and Bob enjoyed one another's company while fishing with new bamboo. The snow continued to fall. There was no wind and it wasn't all that cold, other than the water; it refused to warm up at all.

Bob continued to fish with his new Arguello fly rod, commenting over and over at how lovely it felt in his hand. "You know, Dale, within a few casts I felt as though I'd been fishing with the rod for years instead of minutes. I think I'll take another one!"

I was glad he was getting friendly with the rod. There's magic in fishing fly rods built of cane. Lots of hours of a builder's life goes into the rod as the craftsman splits, planes, assembles, glues and finishes culm of can into a work of fly fishing art.

"When my other rod is done, will you take me into the Park so we can hook some greenbacks?" Bob asked.

"I'd love to. I hope Chris can come, too."

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Long Meadow: Kirk & Dave, April 30, 2006

Up until right now there's no way you could know what hoot we had on this fishing day. I hope the words I write are in the proper order to communicate the fact. We'll see.

Kirk has been reading the News & Muse for some time. As it turns out we are neighbors and everything. Who knew? He called to ask about a trip at either Boxwood or Long Meadow. "I need to get out soon. Things have been stressful at work and lots of other things are going on," he said. "When can we go?"

"How about Sunday the thirtieth of April? " I answered.

"Sounds good. Let's do it."

A few days later I saw Dave and said, "Hey Dave, would you like to go back to Long Meadow for another day of fishing?" He agreed; the day was set. We met at the Cutthroat Cafe for breakfast. Dave and Kirk had not met, but it didn't take long until they were laughing at one another's jokes - tough duty in this case - and anticipating a day on the water.

Dave had a new Fisknat net and it still smelled like rubber. We had to fix that as soon as possible. When we arrived at the river it was windy, bright and cool. However, the water level, which had dropped from about 300CFS on Friday to about 50CFS by Friday night, was still low and clear; it was also warmer. When I checked first thing the temperature was already 44°. That's getting to the point that makes fish want to eat bugs and get fat. Wait; fish always want to eat bugs and get fat, it's just that as water temps increase so does their ability to eat more food. Trout that eat more food take more bites, and more bites mean more chances to hook them with flies! Still, it was windy.

We talked to each other and decided one angler would rig with just a dry fly - to see if anyone out there could be tempted to come to the surface - and the other would rig with two nymphs to fish the deeper, faster water. Fine. Dave tied on a fresh leader and about four feet of 4X tippet and attached a small black beetle. I don't know why it is, but these fish like small black beetles. The fly is tied with an orange foam head and is visible. While Kirk patiently waited Dave made a few casts. On about the fifth one a fish rose, ate the beetle and three grown men, pretending to be boys, let out a hoot.

As it turned out, hooting would be the order of the day. Little did we know that all three of us would be hoarse from laughing, hooting and basically carrying on like the little boys we are. Hey, we're all old enough to know that we still want to be about twenty years old, pain-and responsibility-free. It's part of the reason we were out there.

The stink was off the net; Dave put a fish in it and that was that.

We left Dave to his own devices and rigged Kirk's outfit with two nymphs. We waded upstream a little way to some deep, fast water and started making some casts. (Dave rudely interrupted us by landing another fish on the beetle. Some people's kids. More hooting; more laughs. In addition, we added casting dispersions at one another.)

Kirk made some good drifts and some trout made some bad choices. His first fish was a very small brown trout. I couldn't believe he would show off like that right off the bat.

"You know, Kirk, some people show a little more propriety when they go fishing with new friends. They wait to catch the really good fish until later, after they stumble around hooking a few big fish," I said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that was how it worked down here," he said.

"Well, don't let it happen again."

Then he hooked some larger fish, just to get things straightened out. Dave used his net to land the fish and the scent of rubber continued to be replaced by the lovely aroma of slimy trout. "Ah, yes," as WC would say. This day was fit for boys in men's bodies and wild, wet trout.

A little while later Kirk had the audacity to hook a lovely, but small, brook trout. This time I just rolled my eyes. Some people's kids.

We kept checking the water temperature which continued to rise. By the end of the day it would be up to 54°, which is about optimum for trout to feed. The fish were concentrated in deep or fast water - also under tree limbs and so on - due to the lower water. Generally speaking lower water levels mean trout will be more skittish; in this case they were also hungry and willing to eat because they had to. At 54° their metabolisms are burning up lots of calories and more have to be consumed in order to maintain - and increase - body weight.

More fish were hooked and landed; more dispersions were cast; more fun was had; many hoots and hollers at funny things were shared and a fine time was being had by all. I think all three of us had sore cheek muscles from smiling so much. It was time for lunch.

When we got back to the pavilion and picnic table at Long Meadow John and his group had finished lunch. They were fishing just below us on the river, so we had a show to accompany lunch. I don't know what was wrong with these guys, but rather than display good, adult behavior they were down on the water hooking big fish and laughing and carrying on like a bunch of little kids. We were embarrassed for them. While we maintained our dignity and spilled milk all over the table while eating our sandwiches and cookies these guys continued to holler and make all sorts of noise. All along I thought fly fishing was supposed to be a quiet sport, something with dignity and so on. When John came up to see how we were doing I told him I was sorry his clients were behaving so poorly and all. He apologized and asked if he could eat a cookie, too.

After lunch we walked downstream. John mentioned that the fish were congregated into the classrooms along one bank that had deeper water, and that the fish that were along the steppes were very flighty. He said they'd hooked a few on nymphs in the morning down that way and wondered if the fish might rise for dries during the afternoon. We promised to figure it out and report back at the end of the day.

"Let's fish together for a bit. We'll rig one outfit with a beetle, just to see if the fish will come through this water to eat, and the other with a dry and dropper. How's that sound?" I asked. We agreed and stumbled into the river to see what we could see. I added four feet of 4X tippet to Dave's 9' 3X leader and tied on a beetle like the one he'd fished in the morning. To Kirk's 7.5' 3X leader I added about 3' of 4X, tied on a size 14 Royal Wulff, added about 2' of 4X tippet and a small caddis larva. Dave started. After hooking another tree I told him, for the fourth or fifth time, "You know Dave, trout aren't in trees. You don't have to keep casting up there."

He answered, "I just had to figure out that they weren't up there on my own."

"There are people that actually know fish aren't in trees without being told, you know," I said. Hooting and hollering followed. We were back on track; our cheeks continued aching.

It was Kirk's turn. Dave was retying a fly; the beetle was in the tree, trying to fool trout that don't climb trees. Kirk made a few cast along a seam below a large rock. The water on the inside of the seam was standing still while the water on the outside of the seam was moving fast. He was getting some good drifts. All three of watched the Royal Wulff bob along with the current. Suddenly a large mass of fish engulfed the fly.

"It took the Wulff!" I said. I can never get past seeing a trout take a Royal Wulff.

"Yep," said Kirk. The fish took off toward the rock. It was a big slab of rainbow trout and it was not happy.

"I'll bet the fish didn't have this on its day timer, " I said. More laughs. Even bad jokes get their due when a nice trout is bending a fly rod.

The fish sat behind the rock, sulking. Kirk's rod was bent deep towards the butt. Then something strange happened. It took all of us a few moments to realize what it was. Next to the rock a much smaller, and very silver, rainbow jumped, its body silhouetted and flashing bright against the dark brown rock. Then, the rod went slack. No one was pulling.

I'm often amazed by fish stories. Of course all of mine are unvarnished truth, while everyone else is a big fat liar. In this case - and this is exactly what happened - I could see that the smaller bow had taken the small caddis larva, which was just hanging in the current while the big fish sulked. When the little fish took the little fly it jumped out of the water, moving upstream as it did so. This movement pulled the big dry fly out of the big fish's mouth and both escaped.

"Not everyone can lose two fish in one drift," I said to Kirk. "First thing you had to show off by catching small fish, now you continue to trend by hooking a big one and a little one on the same drift, then losing both of them." Some people's kids.

It seemed like Dave had figured out the fish weren't in the trees, so we started wading upstream looking for fish. We spooked a few in shallow water and then moved on. There's a spot on the river in the Long Meadow stretch that is perfect for trout. Actually, there are lots of them, truth be known. This particular spot is crescent-shaped with the long part of the curve running under a thick row of willows; the deepest water is under the willows. The water shallows out along the inside of the curve and trout move out of the deep water to hang along this edge and feed in slow water. We approached from below, and sure enough the run was full of trout. Some were eating bugs from the surface of the water.

"It's all dry flies now, kids," I said. "We'll hook one fish on one fly, then change."

Kirk started with a Stimulator. On about the second cast a fish took it. Dave cast a black beetle; a fish ate it. Several fly changes were made; several fish hooked. Dave decided to try hooking trout in the willows, but they didn't fall for it. "Maybe I should try changing flies," he said.

After we hooked a few fish - there were plenty more in there and every time we changed flies a fish would eat it - we continued wading upstream. As we walked past the fish in the crescent we talked about why they were there, what attracted them to such a spot. Upstream we did the same thing. A few more fish ate flies.

We handled the fish gently. On occasion, as I was going to click a picture, the fish would escape. The fish that was in Dave's net - Kirk is holding it here - was as big as the net. As a matter of fact the fish has grown considerably since it escaped. The net probably wasn't quite big enough to hold it, anyway.

Dave wrestled with one fish to get a picture. As it decided to jump back in the water I caught a shot of it. That made for more hooting and laughing. We really were having a dandy time together.

"You know, I've caught enough fish today," said Dave.

"Me too," said Kirk.

We walked the river looking for trout. "When the water is low like this it is a good time to see cover and structure. Then, when the water comes up and the spots are covered, we'll know where the fish will hold. Always study what is going on and observe the spots for future reference."

When we got back to the pavilion there were fish rising in the spot below. We all looked at each other and decided one more fish would be a good thing. Kirk hooked two and landed a very nice rainbow. All three of us were hooting and hollering. It was Dave's turn. The glare on the water made it tough to see, so we tied on a small caddis adult with an orange post. On most drifts the fly was visible in the glare. He made a good cast and the fly drifted through the tongue of current below a large rock. A big rainbow took it and Dave expertly set the hook, fought and landed  the fish. There was more hooting and hollering. When we turned back, we saw that John's group was sitting at the picnic table munching salami and cheese. They scowled at us with dignity, probably wondering how grown men could behave in such an immature way.

We just grinned. Dave decided one more cast was in order.

In the small pocket behind an exposed rock the fly bobbed. It was taken by a trout. "Well done, David," I said.

He landed the fish. It was a small brown trout.

"I just wanted to show you that I learned something today, Dale," he said.

Some people are just showoffs.

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