Familiarity on a river can be a good and bad thing. Good in that you get to know the characteristics of the water, where the trout are and what they tend to eat, bad in that it’s easy to get in a rut, always doing the same thing based on previous experience.

This past weekend my son came back from Montana and we decided to do a little late afternoon fishing on a stretch of river not too far from my mountain home. We reached the trailhead around 4:30 or so and began gearing up for the hike ahead. The parking lot was still full, but thinning, and the longer we talked the more that trend continued. We strung up our rods in the heat and questioned whether or not to wear our waders. That was always the dilemma on hot summer days and there were always trade-offs. Colorado evenings in the canyon could get chilly, and wet wading in 50 degree water even more so. Knowing we’d be fishing until nightfall we opted to wader up.

Once on the river I began tying on my normal tail water go-to flies, a nymph attractor with an assortment of small midges and mayflies below. I had fished this section recently and had done well, so I had no doubt I would do well again. My son on the other hand had been fishing big water up north for the past two months and had “bigger flies” on his mind.

“Dad, can I see your fly box for a minute,” he asked, tucking his rod under his arm? “Got any hoppers?”

I handed him my box with hesitation. Not because I didn’t want him using my flies, but because I wasn’t too optimistic big flies would be a good idea on this river.

“No hoppers, I replied, but there are some chubbies in there. You can give those a try. Should be plenty big.”

Knowing the finicky nature of these tail water fish, I was skeptical. I’d had success in the canyon with smaller attractors years ago, fishing to browns along the undercut banks further upstream, but fishing bigger runs down the middle of the river with dries in sizes 6-8, again I was skeptical.

We fished quietly side by side for ten minutes or so then I heard Jake shout…

“Dang, I missed him!”

“Are you getting some action,” I asked, not really expecting an answer, and not wanting to look too enthusiastic.

“Yeah, there’s a ton of fish in this hole and one just came up, but I set too soon,” he said with disappointment.

Another few minutes went by and I heard another yelp…

“Hey dad can you net this one for me.” he yelled.

I was beginning to take notice.

I’ll admit I’m stubborn, so it took me netting two of Jake’s fish before I clipped my nymphs and made the switch. I was glad I did because with my second cast I was rewarded with a fifteen inch bow and soon after a twenty-incher.

To be honest I didn’t fully commit to a dry alone. I tied on a bead head nymph a couple feet down from my main dry and it served me well for those more conservative fish, that like me, had commitment issues.

We fished until we ran out of chubbies and daylight, and I vowed to come back to the river after a trip to the fly store to restock my arsenal. I followed through and had two more incredible nights in the canyon catching big trout on big dries.

It’s funny, as much as we think we know as fly fisherman, there is always more to learn. Regardless of what the past tells us, there are always exceptions to the rules. Trout will continually remind us of that.