Time To Rewind

As spring has sprung, I have spent lots of time this winter reflecting on many things from the past, present, and future. While rewinding my thoughts through abundant Alaskan journeys, to classic Colorado skiing moments, to colossal Colorado trout fishing stages; stages that have changed my life's course and given me a path to live out dreams, thus creating memories that will not flounder away into the abyss. Memories that I want to share. So share I will.

The first one that comes to mind involves a moose. I was fishing Goose Creek, with my friend Les. We were in a thick wooded section where Goose Creek is transitioning from a meadow to a high narrow canyon. The creek is tight and challenging even to professionals like Les and I. We were using hoppers or large dry fly patterns, mostly because Les had tied this huge foam bodied pattern that he wanted to try. We fish close together, moving upstream, leap frogging each other when necessary. Using piles of pebbles and rocks placed in an obvious position to indicate where one started fishing so that the other person knows to move ahead. I first wanted to see if Les's big fly worked. So I watched him cast and land this huge dry fly, and sure enough the fly was hammered by a nice cutbow trout. After witnessing the big fly get another strike, I soon put on the biggest foam dry fly pattern I had and proceeded to move upstream ahead of Les.

I managed to hook up a few small trout and meander my way through Goose Creek heading into what is the thickest section of trees on the the entire creek. And suddenly out of the corner of my eye through a cut in the trees I see a bull moose munching on some greenery. He glances over at me several times as if to say, "Hey buddy, you aren't going to catch anything over there." The moose never even seemed nervous or worried at my presence. That was the first bull moose I ever saw. A special moment for a boy from L.A. (Lower Alabama).