The Switch Flips

                                              The Switch Flips

Winter has finally begun, and this year it came in like a lion (or perhaps a yeti). It had been a fairly mild November, and by the time Thanksgiving rolled around the river was still ice-free and fishable.  We were beginning to wonder if winter would ever arrive, since by then we would usually get one or two precursors of the new season in the form of early snowfalls that quickly melt.   But this year there was none of that, except in the higher terrain where it was greatly appreciated by the ski areas.  But then on the Tuesday night after Thanksgiving the weather grew cold and dark, and we woke up on Wednesday morning to a foot of fresh powder. Winter had arrived literally overnight. 

  I used to think that if there was any month that it wasn’t great to live in Colorado, November was it. After all, most of the ski areas weren’t open yet, the fishing isn’t as good as it is earlier in the fall, and the weather can be a little less sunny than the rest of the year.  But I’ve begun to have more of an appreciation of November, since it’s a month that I tend to drive around with both my skis and my fishing gear in the back of my truck. May is the only other time of year that I do that. From June until Thanksgiving, I usually have a bag of fishing gear with me in my truck or car wherever I go, just in case I find myself driving along the Eagle or Colorado Rivers (or just about anywhere in the state) with a little extra time and some open fishy water beckoning me.  From November until June, that fishing bag is replaced by my ski gear.  That way if I find my work day ending early, I can drive up to Arrowhead to get in a few runs on the mountain.  Or, if I’m going to the Front Range, I might either have the time to do some turns at A-Basin if its open, or off the top of Loveland Pass if its not. In May and November the back of my car or truck can be a little crowded with gear, but it’s a good kind of inconvenience to have to deal with.

  Over the past few years, the early season skiing at A-Basin has gotten better, partly due to the fact that there is more snowmaking there than there used to be.  For many years they wanted to increase their snowmaking, but we being sued by Trout Unlimited for trying. Once A-Basin won the right to make snow, they were able to get their rocky terrain covered in the white stuff earlier than would have been able to in the past.  Suddenly the November skiing could actually be pretty good. 

  Anyway most autumns I have fishing on the brain, partly because after watching other people fish all year I suddenly have time to do some myself.  Then the ski areas begin to open, but fishing remains in the forefront of my consciousness.  But at some point there’s a switch that flips in my brain, sometimes with an almost audible click, and at that point I can get as obsessive about getting on the hill as I was about being thigh-deep in some river only a short time before.  The way winter came in overnight this year resulted in one of those short transitions. Beaver Creek has been open almost a month now, and the conditions have been very good already.  My favorite type of skiing is to be found in the trees, but some years it’s not safe to hit those until January, since they’re not maintained and it takes a certain amount of snowfall to cover all of the felled trunks and downed limbs. But I’ve already done a bunch of tree skiing already this year, and it not even Christmas yet.

   So fishing has taken the back seat, and will remain there even as my fishing magazines begin piling up unread.  Usually I forget about fishing until January, when the Fly Fishing Show in Denver rekindles my interest.  Once I come home from that, it’ll usually motivate me to go hit a tailwater like the Frying Pan, the Blue, or the Yampa.  But an afternoon of freezing my ass off doing that is usually all it takes to get me looking up again, at the snow-covered hills all around. 

  I did have an epiphany last February fishing the Pan with my friend Ryan that might lead to more winters forays however.  We were out there one day with the air temperatures about twelve degrees.  It was one of those days where its actually warmer standing in the river instead of our of it, since the water temperature was a balmy forty degrees. We had the Toilet Bowl almost to ourselves, which is pretty unusual on the Frying Pan.  The Bowl is right near the outlet of the dam, and where all of the real leviathans live.  About every three or four casts I would have to stop to clear the ice off my rod guides, and doing that for the umpteenth time I broke tip of my rod.  This pissed me off, but then I remembered that I had my tenkara rod in my truck.  I put my conventional rod away and switched to the tenkara, and found it to be the perfect tool to fish in sub-zero temperatures.  Its thirteen feet long and has no reel, only about fifteen feet of line and leader with which to toss a fly.  Not only were there no guides to freeze, but there is very little handling of the line necessary, which leaves your hands much dryer and warmer.  I expect to be doing much more of that this winter. 

  But until then, the switch in my brain is still firmly flipped to the “Ski” setting, and as long as fresh powder keeps falling from the sky that’s where it will stay. Although, I did just finish clearing off a 300’ x 30’ space on the river ice in my backyard on the Colorado River, and so I’ll have to figure out where ice skating and hockey is going to fit into my limited recreational time!