Fishing New, Old Water

Do you ever get stuck in a rut? You head to not only the same river, but the same stretch of it, parking at the same spots, hiking the same trails, and fishing the same flies. There’s comfort in knowing you’re doing something that works, but you can’t stave off the feeling that you’re missing out on something else.

For a lot of us, we’re stuck in a rut due to other circumstances. The angler who only has one day a week to fish would love to explore, but the comfort of fishing what he thinks is a sure thing is too much to pass up. Better to fish where you have a better shot at putting something in the net, even though that stretch of water a few miles downriver has always looked enticing.

I was in that same boat for most of the past two years. I was teaching high school full-time, which left me with limited time to fly fish for nine months of the year. The lure of fishing water I knew had fish in it was too great, and I spent less time exploring than I’d like. Even on rivers chock full of trout, I kept fishing the same beats, telling myself I’d explore the rest of it later.

I never did, but I quit teaching in May, so I’ve had more time on my hands. I also made it a goal this year to not fish the same pieces of water over and over, not in the least because I was getting bored of that. I live in Wyoming, arguably the least-boring state in which to be a fly angler. I owed it to myself to spread my wings a bit and find some new-to-me water.

Each time I’ve ventured off in search of something different this year, it’s paid off. On my local creek, I’ve only visited my usual spots once or twice since runoff subsided. The sections I’d never fished before have opened my eyes to just how much great fishing I’ve missed out on in the name of comfort.

My local tailwater is perhaps a better example of this. There’s one section where the road runs close to the river and the bank is gentle and easy. It’s a piece of cake to access, especially compared to the near-vertical rock and sagebrush-lined cliffs that pass as the rest of the river’s “banks.” I’d always fished the tailwater here – the spot where everyone else fishes – and as such, I never had a high opinion of it.

In June I forced myself to visit a different section, and while the hike down was perilous, it wasn’t impossible. The fishing was outstanding, as that section is rarely fished, and the trout were more than eager to eat my flies.

This situation has played out nearly every time I’ve gone fishing this summer, and it’s making me feel more than a bit ashamed of my lack of adventurous spirit. Yes, the possibility of getting skunked is there, but it hasn’t happened yet. It probably will, especially now that I’ve written this column. But my loss is your gain – go explore some new, old water this summer. You’ll be glad you did.