Boulder Bound

The mountain was calling, fall was in the air, and I needed to go. The beauty and tranquility that mountains provide me brings such satisfaction into my life. The boulder mountain, in particular, holds a special place in my heart. Its vastness, geography, potential record breaking fish, and beauty bring me back as many times as I can. October was here, and fall leaves and colorful trout were flooding my mind. With the workweek over, Mike and I were ready to fish this mountain one more time before the snow began to fall. With a  massive storm coming up from California causing major flooding, we were worried about the conditions. Would it be really stormy? Would we even make it up to these high alpine lakes without getting washed away? It didn't matter. My inner fly fishing drive was in full gear. The elements would not stop us from the mountain we so cherished. With snow/rain gear in tow, we grabbed our fly gear and headed for the mountain.

Upon arriving, it became apparent that this side of the mountain took fire a while back. Most of the trees were scorched black, however the young aspens were making a comeback illuminating autumn yellow and reds. With nightfall upon us, and taking in some much anticipated cool mountain air, we set up camp, and set off to do some nighttime mousin' (which proved to be rather unsuccessful). Lack of light, combined with an abundance of duck weed on the lake, proved tossing mice was not easy. With nothing showing interest in our bushy flies, we retired to our sleeping bags.

The following morning light rain was falling and the clouds were laying low casting a foggy scene. We enjoyed some hot oatmeal, readied our rods, and set off to the same lake the night before with higher expectations. After scouting the lake, there was only one spot we could accurately get our flies to the fish. This spot had numerous logs, and was plenty deep. Perfect brook trout water, although still tough to fish. After fishing the spot with what I figured every fly a brookie would take imaginable, and getting no love, we retreated back to camp to get ready for the next lakes. 

Duck weed lake

With full bellies, and gear ready, we were off to tiger country. The scene upon leaving consisted of light rain, and misty low clouds. Still, we were getting lucky with the weather. Having only light intermittent rain and not too cold of conditions, we felt blessed. It was beautiful, and gave us a Halloween type feeling hiking through forests of dead scorched trees, bright yellow aspens, and foggy clouds.  After a tough hike to the top, the lake finally came to view through the foggy air.

Scorched

It was a beautiful lake. Smaller than what I had imagined, but deep and gin clear with tiger trout freely roaming. I cast out my line, and with a few turns of my hand twist retrieve, my chironomid sank deep into a tigers mouth. It gave a good fight, but soon rested in the cradle of my net. It's colors were dark and vibrant, and I couldn't help but release a big smile. 

Maze of colors

After a little fishing, and feeling recovered from the hike in, we set off to the other group of lakes nearby. All of these lakes were fairly close to each-other, which made it really nice. After a short walk through the wet misty landscape, a couple lakes came into view. These lakes were fairly deep in some spots, with lots of foliage around, making for tough casting. We ran into our friend we met the night before, another die-hard fly guy. He was in the best, if not only spot to cast on the lake. After verbal exchange of our successes, we decided to try the smaller lake nearby, knowing we had no chance of fishing this lake.

We found an alright casting range, and tossed leech patterns into a foggy abyss. Stripping our flies in, we saw the dark glow of tigers following our flies, but not committing. These were picky, educated fish. Not your everyday stock, local pond that will take anything that looks buggy fish. After much hesitation of no tigers at hand, we retreated back to our first lake.

Sitting at the edge of the lake, I noticed the fish were slashing right below the film line. My thoughts were that they were keying in on emerging nymphs. After close inspection, I tied on a pheasant tail and cast out my line, hoping to replicate the phenomenon. Stripping in slow, I could not see any fish right away. However, toward the end of the drift with only leader in water, I began to raise the nymph up ever so slowly while noticing a tiger closing in. My nerves were high. I tried my best to keep a steady upward retrieve to make my nymph look as natural as possible. With my smooth retrieve, the tiger closed in and opened it's mouth. I waited patiently. The fish closed it's mouth over my pheasant tail, and I set the hook. Fish on. This is what fly fishing is all about. Close quarter sight fishing at its finest.

We caught a few more tigers at this lake, and it turned out to be a great day. As daylight dwindled, and nightfall falling upon us, we called it a day. Our gear was soaked, legs weak, but minds filled with the gift of the mountain.

Enjoy the video edit posted below of our trip. Tightlines everyone.

Fishing with a baby

Fishing with a baby is tough. For those of you who have done this daunting task, you know the challenges. Our baby girl is seven months old, and roughly eighteen pounds. She feels a lot heavier due to the fact that we are still using a chest mounting system during our hiking and fishing excursions. Hopefully a backpack is in our future. Furthermore, there are numerous challenges that come with taking a baby on a fishing trip. Just something as simple as hooking and landing fish is difficult. With her head bobbing up and down in front of me, my window of vision is narrow. I also worry about accidentally hooking her with my fly, especially when I’m fishing meaty streamers.  A hook burrowed in fragile baby skin would surely end with a screaming baby and a very worried dad. Landing fish is a whole other difficulty. Eighteen pounds strapped to my chest while trying to lean into the water for the scoop is quite a challenge.  It is possible, with proper balance and body mechanics, but not ideal. With the challenges however comes pure joy, both for me and my baby girl. Landing a fish, and watching her eyes keenly focused on the unknown specimen brings excitement to the both of us.  Sharing my passion with my baby girl is something I plan on doing my entire life. That is, IF she actually likes fishing when she gets older. Of course, it is my hope that she does. If not, I’ll support her in whatever passions she pursues.  In the meantime, I’ll enjoy watching her young eyes gazing out over the water with excitement and joy as I bring fish to hand, the warmth of her body next to mine, and the love I have for her.

Breakin out my grandpa's 7wt Fenwick fiberglass rod.

Halftime milk break

Enjoy the little video edit below I did of our latest fishing adventure.

IF4 Fly Fishing Trip 2015

Mike and his boys and I went up north to the International Fly Fishing Film Festival - IF4 back in March. This year, the festival took place in Provo, Utah. For those who don't know, this film festival displays professional short fly fishing films from independent film makers. Most of them are quite good and very entertaining to watch. Films feature anglers in exotic locations and many species of fish. There are also a ton of giveaways at the Utah show. In 2014, we were not so lucky. We came home with just a few stickers. Fortunately, this year I won a pair of Smith ChromaPop sunglasses, (which I love-gear review to come!). Mike and his boys won hats, stickers, buffs and a Tacky Fly Fishing box. It was a fun night filled with amazing films and lots of prizes.  

The next day, Mike and I headed out to a couple fishing spots we were itching to try. The first was a lake known to hold monster tiger trout. It's well hidden and sits in a unique desert landscape. Knowing there were numerous scuds in the lake, we geared our rods up with scuds hoping for a scud buffet from the fish. Upon further viewing, I happened to notice that the cutthroats in the lake were nose diving straight into the weed beds trying to eat scuds. This was a thrill to watch. Never before have I seen anything like that.

Moss bed through my Smith ChromaPop's

Scud Confident, and hopeful to catch a big tiger, I cast out my line. It took a while but I did start to catch some fish. Not the big tigers, but the willing cutthroats. After fighting scud hungry cutts, we headed out to a nearby tailwater. This water was new to the both of us, and proved to be one that we will for sure come back to. With only a few hours of light left, we hurried to the stream. Upon arriving, we switched out our rods in favor of some meat chuckin' arsenals. I absolutely love fishing big streamers whenever I get the chance. Knowing there were big ravenous browns awaiting, we tied on tandem meat. We did pick up a few fish with streamers, however, due to the low water, we found that a double nymph rig out-produced our bushy, flashy streamers. As nighttime fell upon us though, the streamer bite picked up again.

After a rough, and quite uncomfortable night, due to the fact that we slept on an enormous air mattress stuffed into a tiny tent, we were eager to stretch out and battle big browns once again. With the rising sun warming our cold bodies, and shaking off the nighttime squeeze, we were off. It turned out to be another great day. One hole, in particular, produced at least six fish. All browns, all over seventeen inches. Yes, you could say it was the "perfect hole."  Every fish was taken on Mike's trusty muddy water worm pattern. This pattern is heavy, gets down deep, and irresistible. With sore wrists (due to fighting these fish on a 4wt), and a heightened ego, we called it a day 

 The video/slide show posted below will give you a glimpse of the greatness we had. It shows a few brief pictures of the first lake we fished, followed by this tailwater river. Sorry for the lack of quality. This video was shot on a point and shoot Canon, and edited on a stock editing program. Anyways, hope you enjoy, and tight-lines everyone.

Taste of Fall

Fall weather is starting to set in in Southern Utah and my urge to go fishing is high. Fall is one of my favorite times to fly fish. Cooler days, colorful autumn leaves, spawning aggressive fish- what could be better? To me, mostly nothing. This particular trip, my wife and new baby (4 months) and Mike and his family decided to set out for a high alpine remote lake. This lake is hidden and off the beaten path. The hike into this lake includes a steep (3000+) elevation climb. I knew going in that it would be interesting carrying a 17 lb baby along with fishing gear. However, I didn't pay much attention to that because I knew what this lake had to offer. My thoughts were toward the fish and beautiful scenery.

With baby and gear ready, we set off for the tough and treacherous climb. After many stops along the way, and some re-adjusting with gear, we made it to the lake. The lake from now on which will be known as "Hell Lake" according to my wife. Lets just say she wasn't too fond of the hike. 

Connor was a champ

Fall is approaching

"Hell Lake" 

The first fly I chose was a small black leech pattern that Mike and I developed. This fly has proven to be quite effective on high alpine lakes so I was confident it would produce. However, with only subtle strikes and no fish to count for, I decided to switch to an olive damselfly nymph. First cast, and only two seconds in the water, bam! Fish on. This was going to be a great day.

Blue Halo

I eventually made my way onto a small grassy island on the lake hoping to target deeper water. Upon arriving, I looked over the edge from where I was standing and discovered a nice deep drop off. There was a rock ledge I could see under the water where I knew would hold fish. Positioning my fly just right, and getting it to drop below the lip of the rock was the plan. I tossed my damsel a few feet from where I was standing and let it sink. As soon as the fly dropped below the rock ledge,along with a couple quick strips, a brookie bolted out and grabbed my fly with lightning speed. Never before have I had such fun fishing close proximity with only a few feet of leader. I caught fish after fish with this technique. 

Happy to have rod in hand after a brutal hike

The allure of brook trout in the fall is worth any hike and/or obstacles in my opinion. With crimson red tip fins and under-bellies, and dark yellow marked bodies with blue halo markings, the brook trout in my opinion is the most beautiful trout. Combine that with the beauty of where bookies reside, and its the ultimate package. 

First Video

On Father's day weekend in 2015 my dad, Mike, his dad and I set out to central Utah in search of high alpine brook trout and arctic grayling. This video I put together is my first video edit. For those of you who put together these types of videos you know that they take LOTS of time. My hope is to get better each time with both filming and editing and make them more enjoyable for everyone watching. Please comment below on what you think, I would love your feedback.

Introduction

Welcome everyone to Tightline Pursuit blog. This blog is geared towards fly fishing, fly tying and photography. My intent is to provide fun and quality material to all of you. I am very passionate about this sport and am looking forward to sharing my passion in the form of a blog. 

Ok, now a little information about myself:  

My name is Sam Fetzer, and I live in Cedar City, Utah. I have been fly fishing consistently for about five years, and first picked up a fly rod when I was around six years old. I credit my father who first introduced me to the sport. He taught me the basic principles of fly fishing on a northern Utah stream. I cherish my memories with him tossing dries to hungry cutthroat.  I credit my brother-in-law, Mike Anderson in broadening my skills of the sport and teaching me the art of fly tying. Tying flies has greatly expanded my interest in the sport and made me want to be a better angler.  Living in Southern Utah I have had the opportunity to fish many streams and refine my skills. My goal is to share my fishing stories with you through photography, video, and writing.

Thanks for taking the time to read, feel free to comment below.