I recently returned from Ennis, Montana where a buddy of mine, who I have fished with extensively, has made his summer home for the last decade. We used to fish together in Colorado a lot, often over 50 times a year for me and a similar amount of his own, not always together, but always both regularly until the last few years. So over the last 30 years, that makes for hundreds of times we fished together. Since then, I was often envious of his being out on the water all summer in Montana while I continued to work here in Denver, but now that I have experienced it in person, it leaves me questioning what I really want to do in retirement in terms of potentially fishing a lot of days. So I asked Gemini. Here’s what it said:
Given that you’ve already fished all of the rivers in Colorado including the South Platte, Frying Pan, Taylor, San Juan, Henry’s Fork and the other usual suspects, the question becomes more interesting. You aren’t looking for another famous trout river. You’re looking for a particular kind of fishing: clear water, educated trout, small flies, and the pleasure of seeing a fish, figuring it out and making a precise nymph presentation.
The Fishing That Keeps You Interested
There is a difference between having access to good trout fishing and having access to the kind of trout fishing that keeps an experienced angler interested. After decades with a fly rod, catching fish is no longer necessarily the point. The attraction becomes the puzzle. Find the trout. Watch how it feeds. Decide what it is eating. Put the fly where it needs to be and, ideally, watch the fish disappear from view as it takes.
That is what makes Cheesman Canyon so compelling. The South Platte below Cheesman Reservoir is an unusually clear, technical fishery where small midges, mayflies and other tiny nymphs keep trout feeding throughout much of the year. The fish are educated, the water is unforgiving and a good presentation matters far more than simply putting a fly in the river.
Colorado has an almost unfair concentration of this type of fishing. The Frying Pan and the Taylor offer variations on the same theme, with exceptionally clear water and trout that can grow surprisingly large while feeding on tiny insects. The Taylor’s famous Hog Trough may be the purest expression of it: a short piece of water, enormous trout, crystal-clear currents and fish that can become suspicious of an indicator, split shot and anything else that looks remotely unnatural.
Having fished most of the country’s celebrated technical trout waters, however, changes the question. The San Juan is extraordinary, but its appeal is partly the sheer concentration of trout and the almost microscopic nature of the fishing. The Henry’s Fork offers something different again. Its famous Ranch can demand genuine visual fishing to individual trout, while the Box Canyon provides excellent nymphing in faster, more complex water. Recent reports still describe small nymphs and sight fishing as important parts of the experience.
Montana has several rivers that belong in the conversation even if they don’t reproduce the Cheesman experience exactly. The Missouri below Holter is one of the great technical trout fisheries in the West, with abundant trout and a long tradition of productive nymph fishing. The Bighorn offers much the same appeal on a larger scale. Both are outstanding rivers, but they tend to feel more like classic tailwater fishing than the intimate exercise of stalking a single trout in clear water.
The lower Sacramento in California belongs on the broader list as well. It is a productive, technical tailwater with strong nymphing, although its character is quite different from the high-country rivers of Colorado, Montana and Idaho. At this point, the distinctions become more interesting than the rankings. The question isn’t which river has the most trout. It is which river gives you the kind of day you actually want to have.
That may be the most useful realization for retirement fishing. After you’ve fished the San Juan, Frying Pan, Taylor and Henry’s Fork, another famous river isn’t necessarily going to make the experience better. What may matter more is being able to leave the house, fish for three or four hours, spend part of that time actually hunting individual trout, and then go home and do something else.
That is one reason the Denver area remains surprisingly compelling. Cheesman Canyon, the Deckers section of the South Platte and the other Front Range tailwaters put extraordinarily technical trout fishing within reach without requiring fishing to become an expedition. You can make the fishing the centerpiece of a morning rather than the occupation of an entire day.
Perhaps that is the better definition of a fishing retirement: not fishing every day, but having really good fishing available whenever you want it. The difference sounds small until you’ve spent enough time on rivers to realize that it isn’t.
