by David Meleski

“Make me an offer for the shirt” said the gruff trout fishing guide to my wife at the Colorado Fly fishing symposium in January. I grumbled a bit as I was impatient to get out the door and get home to dig through all of the stickers, tying material, and other treasures I had purchased at the show. My wife eyed and thought through the worth of the tank top that laid there on the table.  “I guess I’ll take it for $30” she responded. Thank God, that could’ve be worse, was all I could think. The guide, a gentleman by the name of Pete, smiled and said “I appreciate doing business with you.  My wife would be so happy if we sold one! “.  We smiled, and I looked over the shirt before we put it in the bag to begin our journey home. It was a simple pink tank top with two letters “TT” printed on the back with an artfully hidden trout swimming between them. It was a nice shirt, but the logo really didn’t have much meaning to me. As we drove home, these little interactions, much like the rest of the show, faded to the back of my mind.

Fast forward to St Patrick’s Day Eve 2 months later. My Wife and some friends have decided to celebrate the incoming holiday in the traditional manner with loads of beer, great food, and good Irish music. Two of our friends, Ben and Taylor, who had been out for a day float came in and joined us at the table. “that’s one of the best day’s I’ve ever had” said one, “yeah man, too bad I was in the back of the boat. But that quail though.” said the other. My interest was obviously piqued, and I asked where they had gone. “Some private stretch up by Eagle” was the response. We talked about other things, the beer, the atmosphere, the barely functional drunken folks in the booth next to us, all the necessities for the event. As the gals left to take a quick restroom break, Taylor seized the pause in the action “SOOO David… Ian… what are you doing tomorrow?”. Sensing there might be a good opportunity coming I blurted out “nothing, why?”. Shit, I probably should’ve checked with the wife first. I thought. “We had a seat open up on a boat for tomorrow, we’re floating the fork with Trout Trickers if you want to join.” I shot my wife a look that probably resembled a starving dog asking for its dinner. “Of course you can go!” She spoke. I swear I’m the luckiest man alive was all I could think. “Just make sure you take plenty of pictures” she quipped afterwards. Elated, I started to get the details. A 4:30 AM morning drive up and a healthy dose of cold/flu/whatever medicine you can imagine was my price to pay, but I was finally going on my first guided float trip.

We got to the meeting location near the Roaring Fork around 8 AM. I was still groggy, but my mind was racing through everything. I was stoked to get on the water, but also a bit nervous to be in a raft. I’ve seen what can happen when people have too casual of a relationship with fast water and I have had a healthy respect for the waters I’ve fished since. Our guides arrived and I instantly recognized them from the show (small world huh?). Pete was taking one of our boats, and Taylor and I were in the other boat with a guide named Nick. We had met him at the show as well, but I had again, thought little of it. The first thing that stood out was seeing the difference between show mode and game mode. These guys were talking all kinds of details about the float, how stoked they were we were there, fly patterns, new rigs, currents, inhabitant lore and stories, you name it. It was kind of information overload, and I still really had no idea what to expect on the water. The guys then talked about safety, the importance of leg locks, and how to keep yourself afloat if you fell out of the boat. It was all great information to have and certainly calmed my nerves and we were set to begin our day of floating. I snapped a few pictures of the boat to check the obligation for my wife, and then we hopped in and pushed off. The guide was pointing out bugs in the water, and talking about each stretch of river we floated by before we got to the spot we were going. “this spot’s looks super juicy but its terrible” he’d say or “yep this is way too shallow and fast now, but fishes super well in a few months”. I was blown away by his knowledge of the river. It was an intimate knowledge from years of study, and years of teaching others to understand the fishery. It really showed me the power of observing the water, and giving water a really solid go with a few flies if it looks fishy. Just because our observations are off initially does not mean the prize isn’t still within reach.

 We then moved into the next hole and that’s where the magic started. A few casts in on a nymph rig I had started to doze off and stare at my surroundings. We were in one of the most peaceful places with a gentle flowing river, rolling hills, and a bright sunny sky. My trancelike state was broken with a brief “SET,… SET!… DAVID.oppe .he’s gone..” from Nick.  I regained focus and set the hook hard and right to make my bass fishing roots proud and to my pleasant surprise, that little bugger hadn’t spit my fly yet. After a brief fight with plenty of hooting and hollering I landed the first fish of the day. After the obligatory grip and grin, we released the 16” rainbow to go enjoy her brand new lip piercing. “Sorry I went somewhere else” I said. “Just means you’re in the right mental space” said Nick with a smile. 

I think that moment really resonated with me. In life we’re often grabbing at the wheel super hard for control, as we often do when we’re fishing. We’re super tight, trying to force the results, and turn things from abstract beauty into quantifiable numbers. How much money have you made, how big is your house, how many fish have you caught, how big were they, etc.? We try and control these things, and do the best we can, but sometimes the most amazing moments happen when we release that control. When we stop keeping up with the Joneses and just sit in our one-bedroom apartment balcony and admire the sunrise. When we stop swearing up and down (which I’m quite guilty of) at the fish for not eating our feathery imitation snack offerings, and admire the beauty of the river, or lake we’re fishing. When we take a pause and find peace, I’ve found the moments are that much more special. With all of that said, I will admit we caught an absolutely STUPID amount of fish (especially Colton ‘the destroyer’), but really the essence  of the experience came from the laughs with the guides and the boys on the river, the beauty of our surroundings, the absolutely amazing bowl of tortilla soup that was brought for us, and the joy of another day fishing.  

This Trip also taught me to find significance in the memories. That TT (Trout trickers for anyone not following) shirt that my wife had now has a special place in my heart. Obviously first off, she looks damn good in it, but every time I see that multi color fish on the back I think about the amazing day I had on the water. I think about the stories the guide told us, and how they treated us like family. I can’t wait to get out with these guys again here hopefully soon, and trick a few more trout.

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