I love it when things start to click for someone new to the art of fly fishing.
It’s easy to get bogged down in the complex world of entomology, learning to cast the rod, or simply figuring out where the trout like to hang out.
When the stars begin to align, nothing compares to seeing those “eureka moments” unfold.
My girlfriend grew up fishing and camping, but just began to immerse herself into fly fishing around Christmas.
I’ve said it before, women often make the best students in this sport.
Perhaps it is the willingness to listen, the desire to commune with nature, or the lack of ego that help many women soak up all of this new information speedily.
In September’s case, I couldn’t be prouder.
We started fishing in thigh-deep snow on bitterly cold January days, and when you begin learning in those conditions, it just gets easier and easier as the year progresses.
She has mastered nymphing over the months, and now that dry-fly fishing is fully upon us she has discovered the joy of the surface bite.
I’ve created a dry-fly-fishing junkie.
I get excited when I get to show her what caddis and blue-winged olives are, and can’t wait until she gets to fish her first green drake and pale morning dun hatches of the year.
There is so much to look forward to.
Her grandfather, Robert Bunyar, was a contributing fly-fishing writer for Field and Stream in the 1940s.
I can only imagine how proud he would be watching her stalk trout on the Fryingpan, especially when I’m at work and she is out there figuring it out on her own.
Successfully, I might add.
Now she has her own flybox, waders and rod, and the sky is the limit.
I’m just glad to be along for the ride, and am thrilled to watch her grow.
— This column is provided every week by Taylor Creek Fly Shops in Aspen and Basalt. Taylor Creek can be reached at (970) 927-4374 or taylorcreek.com.