We’ve Caught Too Many Fish
Warning: *** Hot button topic here ***
Last September, the bulk of guided fly fishing season was winding down, and I took advantage of some time to fish for myself.
Because of the numerous gifts mother nature gave us in the months prior, fly fishing in Gunnison County was lights out, day after day after day.
Water temps, consistent flows, high-level bug activity – all elements to create excellent fishing conditions in Crested Butte were there.
This was especially true on our tailwaters. And with stealthy approaches and precision drifts, it felt like I could do no wrong.
I’d book a client or two a week, and the fishing was equally as good for them. The folks with previous fly fishing experience would do exceptionally well, bagging buckets of trout daily.
Towards the end of the month, one of the area’s fundraising fly fishing tournaments was going off, and I was fortunate to be one of the hired guides.
Money was raised via entry fees for a worthy cause, and prizes were awarded to angling teams based on the numbers and size of trout brought to the net, all on the honor system. Most participants were there to have fun, and the competition element was a distant second or third priority.
But still, the tournament side of things couldn’t be ignored.
And let’s be honest: when you get a bunch of people (primarily men) together, the fishing is hot, and there’s a fresh Ross Reel to be won… who doesn’t want to catch tons of fish?!
During this particular tournament, the team I guided did exceptionally well, turning in nearly 52 trout on day one. My clients finished second in the tournament and took home some lovely prizes. I knew I had done my job well and was happy to have been a part of their successful weekend.
However, during the tournament, after we got the first couple dozen to the net, I couldn’t help but feel like the catching piece of the day was becoming a touch less extraordinary.
Any trout to the net is always a special thing. Though, after a couple of hours, it didn’t feel as remarkable as it typically does.
I began sensing we were potentially putting too much pressure on this stretch of water, making the fly fishing less fruitful for future anglers on the remaining days of the season.
I’ve had other days when clients bring in more than 50 fish and never felt that way before.
So why that day? What was different?
I couldn’t put my finger on it then and am still trying to make sense of it now. Those feelings have haunted me for the past six months.
When have I caught enough trout? When have I had my fill? When should I leave the river alone?
How many fish to the net makes me feel gluttonous?
One of the beauties of catch-and-release trout angling is that there is no limit.
In fact, “Catch & Release Zero Limit” is on a rad t-shirt you can find at my home fly shop.
Catch-and-keep limits exist to maintain the balance of a healthy trout population. Nevertheless, we can catch as many damn trout as we like with proper catch-and-release techniques.
What a deal!
Still, catching tons of fish, especially in one specific zone, hasn’t always improved the quality of the day.
I’ve never honestly had a “number goal” for how many fish I’d like my clients to catch, so long as they’re having fun. Yet, I have an unspoken goal: anything between four and eight fish, especially for a beginner, generally means it was a good day. For an experienced angler, more than that feels good.
When I fish for myself, I love catching about a dozen trout. Fewer fish landed is just fine too! But a dozen trout is incredibly fulfilling. A dozen trout is a fabulous day!
But what about when I catch two dozen trout? Did I have DOUBLE the fun?
What about three dozen? Has my angling experience substantially improved?
Were those days TRIPLE the amusement? Sometimes, yes. But mostly, no.
I dedicated my life to fly fishing for various reasons, yet one of the cornerstones of my obsession is its challenging nature.
The challenge keeps me coming back to the river. It keeps me awake at night, wondering how and where I’ll catch my next trout. It has me dreaming of the next great afternoon of challenging angling that becomes successful through hard work, diligence, trial and error, and perhaps a little luck.
Angling makes me want to learn from people better than me and explore the best ways to fool a trout. It is an all-encompassing learning activity that will last a lifetime. Though, it’s not a sport where huge numbers make me happier.
Moreover, I’ve started feeling that the voracious catching of trout, day in and day out, on the same stretch of water, can negatively impact the fishery.
To be fair: In catch-and-release situations, such as a guided fly fishing trip, I don’t believe catching seemingly endless numbers of trout will hurt the trout population much, if at all. This is especially true among people who use the best catch-and-release principles.
We fight ‘em fast, handle ‘em gently, keep ‘em wet, and release ‘em quickly. It’s that simple.
But countless days on end, putting 50+ trout in the net can and will, over time, make a fishery less special.
This is expressly true when this sort of pressure is placed on the same body of water by dozens of guides and their clients daily for three to four months a year.
Over time, with crazy amounts of pressure, trout will become harder to catch. The wild nature of the species will subside, and a once prolific fishery will become non-existent. Or, at the very least, it will be far less brilliant than it once was.
Question: Does 48 trout in a day make you feel 4x more amazing than 12 trout in a day?
My gut tells me that, for most people, sometimes it does! Although most of the time, it doesn’t.
If we could measure happiness, I’d guess a 48-fish day makes someone feel incrementally prouder of themselves than during a 12-fish day. Maybe even a touch giddier!
But not 4x giddier.
That’s why I recommend to anyone reading this sometimes to consider a different approach to the day when fishing is legendarily good.
When fishing feels gluttonous, here’s what I do:
A) I change tactics to catch fish in a different method. For instance, when dry-dropper fishing feels too easy, I may only target them on the surface with dries. Or I use subsurface tactics with tight-line nymphing. I will sometimes purposely make it (potentially) more difficult, and I try to learn something new. As Landon Mayer puts it, “The fish you land teach you something; the fish you lose teach you everything.”
B) I change locations to an unfamiliar zone, aiding in retaining the challenge of locating and landing a feeding trout. I pick a place I don’t know and try to solve its puzzle. There are SO MANY places to fly fish in Colorado, and I might as well make it my goal to experience as many of them as possible.
C) Most frequently, I pack it up, even if it’s only after an hour or two. Sometimes I’ll even celebrate the extraordinary time on the river with a beer on the tailgate.
17 trout in an hour? That’s a hell of a short afternoon – cheers!
The Jones Guides project isn’t a know-all resource for everything, and I’m confident this topic may ruffle some feathers for my readers.
And that’s ok! This is just one person’s perspective on fly fishing and how I see it.
Drop me a line at trout@jonesguides.com to let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading,
Dan
About the author
Dan Jones of Jones Guides is an author and top Crested Butte angling guide based in the beautiful Colorado Rocky Mountains. Dan calls the mountains his home and finds fly fishing to be one of the best things to do in Crested Butte.
Dan specializes in walk-wade on the East River and Taylor River and float fishing from a drift boat on the Gunnison River. Dan also guides on many other trout streams throughout Gunnison and Saguache counties and provides tailored fishing trips to small, alpine trout streams in the Colorado backcountry.
He uses a Scott Centric 9-foot, 5-weight rod from Scott Fly Rods for his primary fly fishing rig. When float fishing from a drift boat, he uses a Rocky Mountain Rafts SB-140. A raft from RMR is one the most affordable and durable boats for fly fishing.
For more information about a Colorado fly fishing trip in Crested Butte this year, contact Jones Guides at 970-219-6388 or at trout@jonesguides.com.
The author fly fishing in a backcountry trout stream of Colorado.
The author and a friend floating through a canyon section of the Upper Colorado River for some winter fly fishing.