Mr. Y's Bachelor Party

Drew had a wild night

Well, it’s been awhile. As I sit here, sequestered from the outside world trying to find refuge for my lungs from the smoke filled atmosphere I could think of no better time than to dust off the old blog. During the last few months, “life” has seemed to happen, leaving me here to lick my wounds both physically and mentally. Usually, I would say that this time of year gives me the “run-off” blues, but the roaring flows peaking over 2000 cfs have been a much needed blessing for our beautiful Colorado, and I welcome every bit of moisture to help keep these fires at bay. With the run-off, school work, business and injuries, my time on the water has been few and far in between, however, this weekend was a much needed exception.  

In less than a month, Zen’s very own Mr. Remo Yacconi will become Mr. Remo Yaklich. I joke, I joke, but in all seriousness, I could not be happier for these two. Remo and Janine are two of the very best people I know and I am honored to call them friends. Through out the last few years, I have had a front row seat in watching their relationship blossom into what it is today. It truly is a beautiful thing and a relationship to envy, it gives the rest of us a little hope that there is this sort of thing still out there and I wish them the best of luck. The venue they chose is a beautiful place nestled in the mountains near Pine, CO, which just so happens to double as a fly fishing ranch, a coincidence, I swear. (At the moment, there is a fire threatening the area, so be sure to send some good vibes on that way and everywhere else in our state in hopes these fires end safely quickly.) As much as we are all looking forward to the wedding, we all know there is also an order of business that can’t be overlooked: the bachelor party.

Nice look inside our cabin

Usually when one thinks of a bachelor party, you picture wild times filled with illicit acts and “ladies of night” accompanied by heavy abuse to your liver. The kind of nights that are reminiscent of movies like The Hangover. Although, I must admit I have taken part in my fair share of some truly epic nights of debauchery, we decided to break tradition and leave that up to our counterparts, who were headed to Vegas for the bachelorette party. We took a more tranquil approach and traded in the body shots, stripper pole and loud music for some PBR, gin clear water and the sound of a screamin’ reel. The 9 of us plus Ernesto, who was with us in spirit as he had some prior engagements with his kiddos for the Father’s day weekend, headed up to a killer cabin in Almont, CO, where the famed waters of the Taylor and East converge to create the Gunnison.

Most of the group were virgins to the Art, so shortly after we arrived Remo began giving a crash course in casting in the parking lot while I covered entomology and the tedious stuff likes knots and rigs.  Much to our surprise many of the guys were naturals and picked up on things very fast, so before long we were off. Not wanting to throw them to the wolves and head straight for the hog trough of the Taylor, we walked down to where the three rivers meet to get the lines wet and get some practice in. The river flows were movin’ and although not blown out, I knew we had our work cut out for us. We arrived during some wicked hatches and before long, everyone was doing there thing, getting the basics down and of course, Remo, was already doing his thing hooking up to a nice fish right off the bat. Not much later Derek had a few nice hits as well and I was happy to see everyone learning and having a good time. After a while, half of us decided to move up a few hundred yards to the Taylor, while the rest went to relax in the cabin. After scouting the area I found a nice prime lie and dialed my rig in then bam! Fish on! As you know that's only half the battle. Once I hooked up, he sprung downriver and showed himself to be a worthy opponent. That, coupled with a torn acl made keeping up with him almost impossible but luckily, I was able to get him to Brock’s net about twenty yards down river from me. The size was nothing of note, but it was a beautiful healthy brown with killer red spots, which made me a very happy camper due to the fact I had been on somewhat of a “Brown slump”. Once I released him, I learned that Brock had landed a nice brookie, which I told him was very impressive having the Taylor be one of the hardest places in the state to catch. We then decided this battle was a victory and decided to head in for the night.

The next morning we decided to get some practice in head up to the Roaring Judy Ponds for some stillwater action. I gave a quick lesson on the dry and streamer game and everyone was on their way. After a while I was very pleased with the progress made, I saw some good mechanics and tight loops, and the guys getting some good action. Kevin, had even landed his very first fish on a fly rod. It wasn’t long before we came up with a battle plan and decided to march on the Taylor.

Before long we found ourselves on the legendary gin clear water and Remo and I began doing some recon, in hopes of spotting a monster in the depths.  The river was pressured but not anything on the level of combat fishing it is notorious for, which was a great relief. Fishing was slow at first and it took some time to dial in our rigs but after some hard fishing Remo hooked up with a nice healthy brown around 17. Minutes later I looked over and he was hooked up again, Ill admit the competitive part of me started askin’ myself, “Should I be nervous?...nah”. In all reality, I have the pleasure of sharing my time on the river and hunting with some of my best friends and when one guy bags a nice bull or a trout of a lifetime, I can’t help but feel like it was me in their place and am very grateful to share that memory with them. As we all know many times it is as much of a team effort as opposed to an individual one, although havin’ the rod or gun in your hand does give you some bragging rights. Well, shortly after I wiped the competitive sweat off my forehead, it was my turn...fish on. I landed 3 nice browns in a row around the same time.  After awhile I hooked up with a monster, that measured about 5’9’’ 170 lbs, which to my dismay happened to be myself, so i retired to the truck to attempt emergency surgery on my hand. As I walked back to the bridge, I saw Dewey land a nice brown himself, which gave me a smile to see my oldest fishing partner finally getting back into the art. The rest of the evening was hit and miss until we got into some epic dry fly fishing to close out the day.

Although, we didn’t get into any of the fabled prehistoric monsters of the Taylor, we did land a number of great looking fish. To top it off, they were all browns, which was a definite plus because we do not get into too many on our home waters. The trip was a definite success and it was great to introduce so many of the guys to fly fishing and watch them land some fish. It was also great to witness Brock and Dewey evolve into even better anglers and watch them land some fish on some top notch waters.  I would have been happy even if I hadn't gotten any fish to the net. For me, much of the beauty of the outdoors is who you get to share the experience and memories with, and I couldn’t have picked a better group of guys. The fish were just icing on the cake.

Tight Lines,

Clint