Watching for Risers in a Changed World by Jack Bombardier
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ast night I ended my day as I often do, out in the backyard watching for risers. Sixteen years ago, through a combination of luck, timing, and perseverance, my wife and I were able to buy a house on six acres of land beside the Upper Colorado River. Living next to the river is something I’ve never regretted or taken for granted. Even in the high-water years when we’ve had to form sandbag walls to keep the water out, buying a house next to the Colorado River is one of the smarter things in life that I’ve done. I can honestly say that I have the best backyard of anyone I know of, and it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else. After many years of travelling all over the world, now it’s hard to go any further from home than the nearest ski hill. By April most years, the river has warmed up and the fish are more active. Even with the absence of bugs, most of which have yet to hatch, in the waning hours of light the odd fish or two find something worth sipping from the surface film. Some evenings, I’m content to just watch the river flow slowly past. Other times, I can’t resist the urge to grab my little three weight to make a connection to the fish. I’ve heard variations of the theme that a 34
High Country Angler • Summer 2020
fisherperson goes through several stages in their angling career. When one first begins fishing, they just want to catch a fish, any fish, by any method possible. Then, as your technique and knowledge improve, you want to catch a lot of fish, and begin to count the amount of fish you get in an outing. At some point, once you’ve caught enough fish in your life, you begin to target the larger fish, and size becomes the metric of what is considered a good day of fishing. A sizeable proportion of my fishing clients are still on levels two or three, and are all about the numbers. I try to accommodate them the best I can, for they pay a lot of money being out here stoking their passion. If I can nudge them up one level while they’re in my company, all the better. When you’ve got enough grip-and-grin shots of yourself on your phone, cradling some kype-jawed brown trout, or a morbidly obese rainbow, you advance to the next stage. This next step of an angler’s progression involves deliberately increasing the degree of difficulty in some way. This might involve catching fish that are either smart or spooked because they get lots of pressure and aren’t easily fooled, or feed in lies that are hard to cast into, or are just www.HCAezine.com
