Unlocking the philosophy behind fly-fishing
Guides try to lead anglers to best spots in Northern New Mexico
Abook of stoic philosophy may be a worthy companion for someone who enjoys the solitude of fly-fishing. The stoic learns to be unaffected by things that are out of his or her control. And you really have to maintain that peace of mind to be successful at something that requires as much patience, determination and diligence.
The writings of Marcus Aurelius are a favorite of Jeremy Brooks, a fly-fishing guide at the Reel Life in Santa Fe. The 21-year-old Santa Fe native, a student at Colorado College in Colorado Springs, Colo., spends his summers with people who travel to Northern New Mexico in search of all the region has to offer.
And yes, that includes lakes, rivers and streams hurt by the state’s drought.
Locals know that even in tough times, the waters around these parts can be unpredictable. Keeping that inner balance while out on the water fishing, not knowing what to expect each day, is one of the toughest challenges for an avid angler. It helps to be as calm as an eddy, even with outer turbulence, despite the unpredictability of the rivers.
That’s how you’ll know when to tug your line and snag that big trout. And that’s something Brooks and other guides try to convey to their customers when they set out.
“Because there are so many natural forces beyond our control at work in any river or lake, luck always plays a role in a successful fishing trip,” Brooks said. “While some people might see that as frustrating or stressful, it is what makes securing each willing fish special.” Guides are adept at learning how to work with the various conditions, increasing those lucky moments that result in a good catch.
The journey begins at the DeVargas Center, where Brooks and other guides prepare their stalwart adventurers for a day on the water.
“You wouldn’t expect to see a fly shop in a mall,” said the shop’s owner, 46-year-old Ivan Valdez of Las Vegas, N.M. “But we’ve been pretty lucky. There’s a hunting and sporting goods store two doors down and the two seem to go hand-in-hand.”
Valdez, who went into business with Nick Streit, owner of the Taos Fly Shop, employs eight guides, who take customers to four of the most popular waterways in the region: the Rio Grande, Rio Chama, Pecos River and the streams of the Jemez Mountains. There are optional excursions to other watering holes, such as the San Juan and the Conejos rivers, and even more settings on private lands.
With the veritable floodgates letting loose following the reopening of the Santa Fe and Carson national forests and other federally protected lands — which, by the way, happen to house some of the best fly-fishing waterways in the state — there has been a healthy surge in angler and other outdoorsy activity throughout the region, according to Valdez and other guides.
Although water levels are not anywhere near
“It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
where they should be this time of year, the recent monsoon rains have bumped up the coveted indices expert anglers know well. The U.S. Geological Survey’s website, waterdata.usgs.gov, is a great resource for determining the cubic feet per second of each water way, the unit measuring flows for rivers and streams. As of July 17, the Pecos River was up to 70 cfs, bringing it close to the 91-year median. Just a week prior, the level was down to below 20.
During the forest closures, Valdez was forced to make trips as far away as Southern Colorado and near West Yellowstone, Mont.
With New Mexico back in play, local guides return to the places with which they have an intimate connection.
“Every experience is unique,” Brooks said on a recent trip to Pilar, along the Rio Grande, “but you can get a sense of good areas to cast your line after being out on the same waters for a while.” And, despite the allure of spin casting, or “traditional” fishing to some, fly-fishing most closely mimics what occurs in the natural ecosystem.
Talk about being one with nature: Brooks could identify every native fish to the local waters, citing at what time of the year they would be biting on which insects, as he brandished his clear plastic circular container of flies before picking one to affix to the end of his line.
Fly-fishing, its best practitioners say, is an art form, as cliché as that sounds.
But to appreciate it fully, you may have to step out of the romantic context. In 1992, a movie starring Brad Pitt, A River Runs Through It, swept the nation and proceeded to clog the country’s tributaries and streams, lakes and rivers, with Paul Maclean lookalikes, down to the wide-brimmed hats, whipping around fly rods like cowboys trying to rope a steer.
“My first guided trip,” Valdez began on the company’s online blog, recalling a trip to Red River, “the water was high, and I instructed them not to wade in the middle of the water. Well, sure enough, one of the clients is doing his best Brad Pitt imitation and was tumbling down the river.” The client lost a rented rod in the process.
If you go on a guided trip, just be prepared to learn — basically, everything you thought you knew about the sport should be left at home. Fly-fishing aficionados don’t fish the waters of the Rio Grande the same way they do the Pecos — or the Chama or the Jemez streams.
They don’t fish Fenton Lake the same way they’d fish the Rio Chama near El Vado. And there’s a reason for that.
Having a guide could save new anglers lots of headaches. “I find that people spend so much more time and money trying to figure this sport out; the very first time you get a guide, the lightbulb goes on,” Valdez said. “You’re very acquainted with how to set your flies up, how to drift your flies, how to set the hook. How to cast.”
Technique is equally as important as artistry where fly-fishing is concerned, and without some guidance from experts, it could be akin to strapping a snowboard to your ankles for the first time and tackling the double-blackdiamond run.
No matter what you might be expecting from a day by the river, fly-fishing gives its practitioner a deeper appreciation for the sport.
It can turn out to be a lesson in patience — at least at first. Some days on the water are better than others. Approaching that Zenlike level of connectedness to the sounds of rapids, to the feeling of grabbing hold of a mighty bespeckled rainbow trout, you may get your fly entangled in some bushes along the banks a few times. You might catch more flora than fauna. Or the river just might take you with it if you don’t secure your footing while wading.
But, as the stoic philosopher Epictetus once wrote, “We have no power over external things, and the good that ought to be the object of our earnest pursuit, is to be found only within ourselves.”
Brooks seems to concur. That sound advice, a little practical knowledge, and the right gear should provide everything you need to have an enjoyable day on the water.
As Valdez said, fly-fishing is “good soup for the soul.”