River Ninjas: Where Art, Science & Serenity Become One

In mid-July, on one of the busiest days of the summer season in Aspen, this is what I heard: the rippling waters of the Roaring Fork River, birds and insects buzzing about, the light rustling of trees, and the amazingly serene swoosh of the fly rod in my hand as I cast — over and over and over again — on my first-ever attempt at fly fishing.

I have heard, from several seasoned fishermen, there is nothing quite like a day spent on the river with a fly rod in hand. In that moment of hushed peacefulness, I understood. It seemed to me to be the perfect blending of art, science and serenity.

And then, WHAM! I felt a gentle tug, which turned into a rather ungraceful “setting” of the hook and an even more chaotic attempt to reel the fish in to shore. To my inexperienced self, it felt like I had caught a shark. It swam (hard) away, as I reeled — “a little slower” … “give it some line,” the guide reminded me. This game of cat-and-mouse continued for what seemed like hours before a mid-sized rainbow trout was dangling before me. The calm of cast had been replaced by the rush of the catch. I was hooked.

“That’s our job, to show you a good time,” says Tom Menas, a guide with Aspen Outfitting Co., who took myself and photographer Anna Stonehouse out on a section of private water the company manages near Woody Creek.

Catching that fish was fun, but as we spent the morning with Menas talking about all things fly fishing — he hits the river every day, whether he’s working or not, and sometimes both when he’s working and when he get off work — it became as clear as the river we were fishing that the sport is about far more than throwing a line in the water.

“There is nothing else quite like it,” Menas says, clearly enthused and genuinely passionate about his job and his life spent fly fishing. “You get to be outside, you have to know your environment, nothing’s every guaranteed. … Every day is different on the water.”

For example, the day we spent with Menas, caddis were beginning to hatch. This, in the fly fishing world, is big. But while it’s easy — even to the novice fisherman — to take note of the flies swirling around your head, there is more to the story. Menas grabs a rock from just below the water’s surface and turns it over; various types of mayfly nymphs, which would soon finish the growth cycle to become actual flies, prompt Menas to put the rod down, dig into his pack and find his box of flies. He then changes out the bait.

The golden ticket, he explains, is finding the exact replica of what the fish are eating and using that to lure them in. In Menas’ box of flies, many are hand-tied; they can also be purchased at fly fishing shops like Aspen Outfitters (which has storefronts in the St. Regis Aspen and a newly opened one next to the Woody Creek Tavern). It is in this regard, the art of fly fishing — the gentle arc of the cast, mending the line so it travels downstream just so, setting the hook when a fish bites and then patiently reeling it in — becomes the science of fishing.

“There is nothing wrong with just heading out to the river and giving it a go … I mean, how can a day spent like this ever be bad?” Menas says. “But when you bring with you a bit of knowledge, it can make the experience that much greater.”

For many, that knowledge is gained by fishing with a guide; Aspen Outfitters is just one of many in the Roaring Fork Valley (Frying Pan Anglers, Taylor Creek and countless others come to mind) that offer guide services of all types. Trips run on the Roaring Fork River, Frying Pan River, with both private stretches and public access offered by most companies. Lake, pond and reservoir fishing is also out there. And you can fly fish year-round. It is, at least in Menas’ eyes, the perfect Rocky Mountain sport.

“When the hatches are big, it’s exciting,” he says. “But when it’s a bit slower, you can really think about the sport, spend time in the wilderness, regroup.”

And to myself and Anna, the idea of winter fly fishing — though cold — was especially appealing.

Why? Menas understood.

“It is so silent out here in winter. The banks are covered in white, the water is just a trickle, but there are still fish,” he says. “And, I guess, at the end of the day, that’s what it’s about — trying to catch that fish.” When Jon Hollinger started his outfitting company nearly 40 years ago (they also offer guided target shooting and hunting trips), he says his goal was to offer others the chance to “traditional outdoor pursuits” at the very highest level.

For us, the introduction to one of these formerly foreign outdoor pursuits was benefit enough. One day spent on the river was worth a million spent at the office.