Browns on Bill’s Fork

The Williams Fork River in Colorado is a very special place to me. We’re on informal terms in fact, so I just call it Bill’s Fork. Six years ago, I fished it for the first time after many years of neglecting fly fishing. I’d fly fished since I was a kid but life somehow got me sidetracked and the years ticked by without me doing much in the way of angling. A beautiful early October Baetis hatch got the browns trout eating and I caught a stunning 13" brownie on one of Gary LaFontaine’s kooky emerger patterns with a foam wing. That one fish reignited my dormant passion for fooling fish with flies and it’s been full bore ever since. Now I try to get back to Bill’s Fork as often as life permits…like now.
First… The boot report. I got a pair of Korkers Guide Boots (KGB…but not the scary Soviet kind).
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
I’ve read online about the supposedly bad performance of the Kling-On soles and was a bit worried, since I have a hard enough time staying vertical with felt boots (the Korkers come with both felt and rubber, so is cool either way). The long and short of it…the rubber soles rock and kept me upright And they grip as well or better than felt. The BOA lacing system is the bees knees and I recommend these boots to any wading anglers. Order a size or two larger though as they run a bit tight.
The first evening, I messed around in the Colorado River.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's ForkNo fish ate my flies, but a big wet beaver made its presence known. Gratuitous beaver shot:
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
Undaunted, I awoke the next morning (today) and got some coffee into my gullet before heading to meet my old friend Bill. The day was beautiful and crisp. 17 degrees.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
I got to the Parking area after a short drive and ate my chocolate donuts while donning my sexy wading attire. There was already a guy there and he had a super-serious rod holder on his rig. Pretty nice.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
I hiked my sea-level-adjusted, O2-deprived butt the 3/4 mile to the river and marveled at the quiet, the cold, and the majesty of millions of years of geological splendor that led to this place at this time. Truly mind-boggling.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
It’s cold and snow is blanketing the earth here…are the fish still gonna eat?
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
Oh HELL yeah. This one is posing seductively in my Grampy George’s net. He’s long gone now, but his ghost smiles and throws his hat in the air every time a fish lands in his net. I refurbished it with a clear pvc bag a year or so ago. I hope he doesn’t mind.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
Midges and later, Baetis (or maybe Pseudocleon) were hatching and I even managed to raise a few on dry fly. In November! Life doesn’t get much better. By afternoon, I decided to rest my bones and set for a spell.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
Sometimes it’s good to just sit quietly and watch the birds and listen to the stream and just exist as part of the world. So I did. Stirred by the lengthening shadows and thoughts of food and warmth, I began the trek back. Tired, but feeling better. The world at large is insane and cruel and at times brutal and horrible. But it’s nice to be able to steal a few hours in a quiet, unspoiled corner of the planet and remember what it is that makes life so special.
browns-on-bills-fork Browns on Bill's Fork
I hope you got out today and managed to catch a few fish, refresh your soul, and enjoy some time in the real world.

Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: