{"id":17087,"date":"2018-07-28T10:00:42","date_gmt":"2018-07-28T17:00:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=17087"},"modified":"2018-11-28T10:52:38","modified_gmt":"2018-11-28T18:52:38","slug":"when-a-raft-guide-goes-fly-fishing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2018\/07\/28\/when-a-raft-guide-goes-fly-fishing\/","title":{"rendered":"When a Raft Guide Goes Fly Fishing"},"content":{"rendered":"

My first day as a fly fisher person started like so many others in my life right now. Waking at 5 AM to the dulcet sounds of a screaming infant after trying to process a full two minutes of \u2018moooooooooom!\u2019 into my half-awake dreams. With three kids under six, regardless of the adventure ahead, no day begins without an almost overwhelming amount of logistical prowess and conflict management.<\/span><\/p>\n

And before I even got to the put-in, desperately looking forward to the feel of the water below me and the joy of having but one single task to accomplish, I realized that mornings like this are probably why everyone goes fishing. Story over. But really\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

My domestic chores completed, I got to change hats, well, pants actually, and step out of my mini-van, excited for a river trip that felt a bit like a first date despite the fact I had met the river well over a decade ago and have had many intimate encounters with her since then. But any relationship can stagnate, and after twelve years of life as a whitewater guide in Colorado and Utah, I was looking forward to spicing things up a bit with a new perspective.<\/span><\/p>\n

I was going to float the Roaring Fork River and learn how to fly fish. I\u2019ve known many anglers over the years, devotees of the church of the fly rod, but have never had a chance to learn the art myself. I was too busy running the gnar, I guess.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

For today\u2019s lesson, we were putting in at a favorite local spot known as \u2018Westbank\u2019 with plans to float ten miles into Glenwood Springs, Colorado. Although I had launched from that exact spot in a raft, ducky or mini max at least a hundred times at every possible level, I realized I was sort of standing around awkwardly like a tourist, trying to look interested in the new signage.<\/span><\/p>\n