Sunday, February 28, 2010

ruh roh raggy

Fly fishing has yet to teach me how to bend the weather through sheer force of will.  So in the meantime, I guess I'll have to continue to roll with the punches.

Made it up to Taos this AM, only to find the plateau was getting hammered by snow.  Found myself in a growing conga line heading north out of town at 25mph, on icy two track, still thirty miles shy of today's planned venue.  Decided to bag it, having a good idea of what awaited me in the Gorge, no sense adding injury to today's insult.

Back at home, the storm was already breaking up, leaving moderate temps in its wake, bout time.  Whipped out 8 miles on the South Foothills- nice and tacky!- before settling in to watch USA v Canada in hockey.  Dam, thought we had it!  Congrats to Canada, they really looked the better team.

As for my cursed fishing, here's hoping third time's the charm, I'll try again next weekend.


  1. I was wondering how this would end up for you as you dribbled out one photo, then another, then finally the text. Bummer!

    Sounds sorta like my failed attempt yesterday. Got to the river and there were some new No Trespassing signs in the spot I wanted to fish. I was going to go ahead and dangle off the bridge and drop into the water anyhow, but as I was pulling the wader up my leg, some bozo in a truck pulled up next to me and informed me I wasn't fishing there. Didn't feel like arguing with the guy, and storm clouds were picking up anyhow, so I just bagged it. Luckily it was only about 20 minutes from my house.

  2. Yep, gambled, lost on this one. San Juan would've been more of a sure thing, but I was recently presented with an opportunity to fish the Juan this week anyway, nothing great lost there.

    So despite the weather reports, was figuring Taos was worth a shot. I mean c'mon!, these storms have to abate sometime, right? But boy was I wrong, timing is everything!