Tag: Colorado trout fishing

  • Part 5: Whisper Water — Solitude and Browns on the Dolores River

    Part 5: Whisper Water — Solitude and Browns on the Dolores River

    If the Animas River is a bold, rushing conversation, the Dolores River speaks in whispers. Tucked between the slopes and canyons of Southwest Colorado, this river winds through rugged terrain, shifting between dense forest, rocky cliffs, and sage-covered meadows. It’s a place of stillness, where every bend feels like it belongs to you—and the browns that live here feel like a gift you earn, not a prize you chase.

    The Approach: Getting to the River

    The upper Dolores is more remote than it looks on the map. Depending on where you go—above McPhee Reservoir or toward the West Fork—you’ll wind down forest service roads, sometimes dodging rockfall or puddles from last night’s rain. I pulled off just before sunrise at a bend that looked promising. No signs, no crowds, no footprints in the sand.

    I geared up quickly: 9’ 4wt rodSage Spectrum C reel, floating line with a long 5x leader. I grabbed my K&F Concept camera packCanon R5, and my Sigma 24–70mm lens to start, knowing the early light would be soft and perfect for river compositions.

    Quiet Water and the First Cast

    The Dolores at this stretch was gentle—glasslike pools framed by golden willows, with the occasional riffle tumbling over polished rocks. I rigged a single dry: a #16 tan Elk Hair Caddis, and started casting upstream into the seams. The fish here weren’t picky, but they were spooky. Long leaders and slow movements were the name of the game.

    The first brown came from under an overhang, perfectly camouflaged against the river bottom. I crouched low, played it gently, and then paused to shoot—kneeling at water level to capture its golden flanks against the mirror-like pool behind it.

    Photographing Solitude

    Photography here wasn’t about action—it was about silence. I slowed down and started looking for compositions that told a story: a pool framed by sunlit pine branches, reflections of clouds in still water, the gentle curve of the river disappearing into cottonwood shade.

    Using a circular polarizer, I cut glare from the surface and exposed the rocks and movement underneath. I stopped often to shoot macro shots—moss on river stones, fresh caddis cases on logs, wildflowers just beginning to bloom along the bank. The Canon R5 let me switch between stills and slow-motion video, capturing the way wind moved through the reeds like a painter’s brush.

    Fly Selection and Brown Trout Behavior

    As the sun climbed higher, the trout moved deeper. I switched to a dry-dropper setup: a #14 Stimulator on top with a #18 Zebra Midge below. The browns in the Dolores aren’t huge, but they’re aggressive and feisty, especially when your drift is clean and natural.

    I targeted small plunge pools below boulder-strewn riffles and deeper pockets shaded by cliff overhangs. Most takes were subtle—a twitch or a swirl rather than a splash. The largest of the day came from a tight seam below a fallen pine: a buttery brown with red spots vivid against olive flanks. I wet my hands, admired him in the net for a moment, then let him go.

    Weather Watching and Midday Reset

    As with most Colorado rivers, the Dolores plays by mountain rules—sunny one minute, storm clouds the next. By noon, dark clouds were building behind the ridges. I took the cue to rest, retreating to a patch of grass above the river, checking radar, and reviewing my shots on my iPad Pro. I backed up files, edited a few images in Lightroom using preset adjustments for contrast and warmth, and ate lunch while a soft rain moved through.

    Evening Glow and Last Light

    By late afternoon, the rain cleared, and the golden hour was beginning. I hiked upstream a little farther to a stretch with higher canyon walls and a series of gentle cascades. The light lit up the canyon like fire—red rocks glowing, the water catching flecks of sun, and the air thick with golden reflections.

    This was my favorite photography session of the trip—shooting handheld with my 70–200mm lens, I caught reflections of cottonwoods in the river, crisp landscapes framed with long shadows, and one last brown trout rising in the golden light.

    Why the Dolores Stays With You

    Some rivers give you a lot right away. The Dolores gives slowly. It rewards patience, attentiveness, and a photographer’s eye. You may not land a dozen fish, but each one feels earned. And the scenes—the ones you only find by walking, waiting, and watching—make it unforgettable.

    Fly Fishing Dolores River Essentials

    Best Flies: Elk Hair Caddis, Parachute Adams, Zebra Midges, Stimulators, Streamers in fast water

    Rod Setup: 4wt or 5wt rod, long leaders, floating line

    Photo Gear: Canon R5, Sigma 24–70mm, 70–200mm, polarizer, K&F tripod

    Tips: Stay low, fish slow, take your time to photograph the river between casts

    Safety Note: Watch afternoon storms; bring a small first-aid kit and map (no service in remote stretches) Insure you have downloaded all your offline maps

    The Dolores River isn’t about action—it’s about appreciation. It asks you to slow down, to watch the way light plays on water, and to cast not just for fish, but for the memory of that perfect, quiet moment in the canyon.

    Next Up: Part 6 — Full Circle: Reflections, Routines, and What the Backcountry Teaches Us

  • Part 3: Chasing Trout and Light on the Pine River Trail

    Part 3: Chasing Trout and Light on the Pine River Trail

    Some rivers don’t give up their secrets easily. The Pine River, also known as Los Pinos, is one of them. Tucked deep in the Weminuche Wilderness of Southwest Colorado, it requires effort, patience, and a willingness to hike into solitude. But if you’re after wild trout in clear mountain water—and the kind of light that makes your photos glow—there are few places more rewarding.

    The Trailhead to Solitude

    The journey starts at the Pine River Trailhead near Vallecito Reservoir. It’s a dusty parking lot, a worn wooden sign, and a reminder that you’re on the edge of something vast—the largest wilderness area in Colorado.

    The trail runs along private land for the first few miles, so fishing and camping are off limits early on. But once you cross into the national forest boundary, the river opens up, wild and remote. The elevation gain is steady but forgiving, and the views just keep getting better. Towering peaks peek through pines, and wildflowers bloom along the trail like a postcard from July.

    With my Canon R5K&F Concept backpack, and 5wt rod, I hit the trail just after sunrise. The air was crisp, golden light filtered through the lodgepoles, and the river sparkled below.

    Early Light and River Mist

    I stopped just past the wilderness boundary where the river flattened into a lazy bend. The mist rose off the water like breath, and I dropped my pack to capture the moment. Using my 70–200mm lens, I focused on the layers—backlit pine branches, the soft swirl of fog, and the glint of sun hitting the waterline.

    For long exposures, I mounted my tripod, dialed in a low ISO, and let the shutter run. These are the kinds of images I live for—where the emotion of the place shines through the frame.

    Setting Up the Rig

    The Pine River demands versatility. I rigged up a dry-dropper setup: a #14 Parachute Adams up top and a #16 Hare’s Ear Nymph trailing below. These fish are educated and spooky, especially in slow pools. I used long, fine tippet and cast from behind boulders, keeping my shadow off the water.

    The first fish came from a seam near a fallen log—a small but healthy brown. I paused to photograph the catch, using my hand and net for scale, carefully positioning the fish with the sun behind me to avoid harsh glare. A few quick shots, then back in the water.

    Fishing and Shooting in Rhythm

    Backcountry fly fishing is about finding rhythm—between casts, between hikes, between light and shadow. I alternated between fishing pocket water and photographing the surroundings. A high ridge caught my eye, so I swapped out lenses and shot wide to capture the dramatic sweep of the river carving its way through the forested canyon.

    I kept my camera settings flexible, using aperture priority mode to adapt quickly between moving trout and landscape shots. My K&F Concept backpack made transitions easy, with side access panels for grabbing a lens mid-hike or stashing a fly box fast.

    Wild Trout and Wild Moments

    The further I hiked, the wilder the water became. Cutthroat started showing up—small, brilliantly colored, and lightning quick. I switched flies to a #12 Yellow Humpy with a CDC midge dropper, and it paid off. Several fish rose in tight, riffled corners that required tricky casts and precise drifts.

    I kneeled in cold, mossy shallows, capturing tight macro shots of wildflowers along the riverbanks—bluebells, Indian paintbrush, and buttercups reflected in the water’s surface. These images tell just as much of the story as the fish themselves.

    Storms and Staying Safe

    Mid-afternoon, the familiar rumble of thunder rolled through the canyon. I packed up fast, knowing that weather in the high country turns fast. The trail turned slick, and I was glad I had lightweight rain gear and a waterproof pack.

    Back at camp, I dried off and reviewed photos on my iPad Pro, backed up my files, and journaled the day. A deep sense of satisfaction settled in—the kind you only get after chasing trout and light deep into the wilderness.

    Pine River Highlights

    Best Flies: Parachute Adams, Hare’s Ear Nymphs, Yellow Humpies, CDC Midges

    Best Light: Early morning mist and late golden hour

    Photography Gear: Canon R5, 24–70mm lens, 70–200mm lens, K&F carbon tripod

    Fishing Tip: Approach low, cast upstream, and let your dry fly lead the way

    This stretch of the Pine River is what I chase—trout in untouched waters, scenes only your boots can reach, and photos you can’t take from the side of the road.

    Up Next: Part 4 – Animas Mornings: Big Water and Bigger Scenes