My recent trip to the Conejos was a bit frustrating. It all started while trying to cross the river in an absolute torrent. I naturally needed to get to the other side of the section I was fishing, while doing so the river picked my feet up and slammed me into a cold, rushing river. I recovered and somehow made it across. Now the fishing begins!

I started fishing Friday night and saw something on the Conejos that was missing the year prior, a wall of gray drakes coming off the river, WOW!!!!! I searched the section of river for feeding fish, but saw no one feeding. I finally spotted two rises in an eddy. I presented the fly and caught to small browns on a dry, good start in my book. I was thinking to myself, " this is going to really pick up in an hour or two". Well the only thing that picked up was a shower of lightning bolts from above. I tucked my tail and ran back to the truck.

We decided to go set up camp. As we neared my favorite camp site I could see, what looked like a holiday rambler jamboree located in my favorite camp spot. Oh well the early bird gets the worm. We found a nice spot with plenty of room and an amazing view. If any of you have fished the Conejos, you know what I mean. After setting up camp we headed out again, this time straight down hill from camp, in the canyon. A lot of water coming down a narrow wall, really hard to wade. It didn't take long for me to hook up on a conejos giant (these fish could be crossed with pitbulls). It also didn't take long to realize that something with my year old tippet, wasn't right. I fought the fish for a total of three seconds, when the tippet let go. It broke about three inches above my attractor stone. I re-tied and on I went. Five minutes later I find myself sitting on shore in complete dismay that I just broke off my second toad. Now the light is fading, and I am switching over to 4x. I didn't get another bite that night.

Woke up way too early, but decided to hit the meadows anyway. This proved to be unproductive. We did beat the crowds of the novice holiday fisherman though. Didn't matter we we were getting bait dunkers walking in on us. It was frustrating, but I kind of expected it, being it was the 4th of July. We decided to check out of the meadows and head for some solitude. Solitude on the Conejos isn't hard to find. 

We went way down stream to give it a try. The fishing proved to be better, but my lazy decision to not go back to town and buy new tippet, proved to be the WRONG decision. While fishing the first major run I broke off two mules, and landed one 8 incher. I continued up stream. I fished a favorite riffle of mine and caught two small browns. Looking up I saw a set of lips sipping gray drakes off the surface. I switched to a dry dropper, picked my approach and let er' fly. The rig landed on the water with a light thud, drifted over the fish and disappeared. I set the hook and felt a lot of weight and violent thrashing. The giant fish rushed up stream, gathered it's thoughts, turned and swam right by me. This fish was easily 20-22 inches long, I had no chance of getting down stream, DEEP water to my right, and a shore filled with trees and brush to my left. I sat there holding on to the machine made of muscle for as long as I could, but eventually he won. 

I continued with the battle of mind over water, caught some more, lost some more, and wore myself out.

I am fishing the Culebra in one week. The Culebra is located in the San Louis Valley. It holds big mean browns and is also located a mere 40 miles from the Conejos. So on Thurs. I am going back to the Conejos to get my revenge on the big fish that both made and spoiled my day.

Just got back from my week of fishing the prairie pot holes of SD. First off, broke the only fly rod I brought, before I wetted the line. 

Over all the trip was exactly like I planned. I spent many nights drinking way too much beer with old friends.

I caught around a hundred walleyes for the week. The biggest was near 8 lbs., caught on a husky jerk being thrown to shore, AWESOME.

After catching our limit of walleyes we would grab the cooler and set out on the lake near camp. The slow methodical style of crappie fishing was welcomed, after the run and gun approach of walleye hunting.

The area has changed a lot since I worked up there in 2004. They have gotten an incredible amount of precipitation. Some of the the old lakes I fished have buildings completely covered by the lake now. I used to be able to fish inside of a barn on Reetz Lake, but now can see only the peak of the roof. The yellow perch and pike reproduction should be through the roof for the next couple of years.

As I sit here, I am already thinking of my next trip somewhere, thinking the Pecos of NM. Hopefully the big  Stones are still flying around. I'm off.