Postby planosteve » Sun Aug 03, 2014 5:12 pm
Another thing is fishing. Normally, fly fishing is a wonderful, relaxing sport that combines communing with mother nature with expertly flick a tiny dry fly back and forth. It's a joy to do and like poetry to watch. But, not here. Here in Colorado, the fly no more that touches the water before monsters boil up out of the deep and attack it. Instead of being able to enjoy the experience, the angler is forced to spend his time removing these football size bemoths from his line and having to tie on fly after fly as they are mangled into unrecognizable bits of hair and fur. At the end of the day you are exhausted with nothing to show for it but a freezer chest packed full of trout. And there is really nothing you can do with them but eat them. Here I am with one of those nasty old Colorado trout this morning.
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