The Beginning
The first time that I ever went fly fishing was in August of 2002 while visiting the Eagle county Colorado with the folks. We were going to be out there for about a week and the old man asked if I wanted to try it, since it was fishing I jumped at the opportunity. We booked a trip with one of the local fly shops, Fly Fishing Outfitters, and little did I know that this trip would have a dramatic effect on my life.
We left the fly shop early in morning and set off to cattle ranch located somewhere between Aspen and Vail. As we are gearing up and I went to get my ipod from the car and was immediately advised by the guide that I would have my own symphony waiting at the river. So we hoofed it down to the mighty Colorado River in the middle of hundreds of cattle and three peaks over 12,000ft, it was simply an amazing place. I spent the whole day learning how to fly fish with my dad and we were able to get a few fish in hand, solidifying the fact I was going to do this again. While learning how to navigate my way through the river I fell, which over the years I have learned is a trend for greenhorns wading. I guess you could say it was my baptism into the fly fishing lifestyle.
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