Arizona Fly Fishing - Lees Ferry - The Colorado River

I commented on a post I saw on Instagram recently where the user asked "What was your most memorable fishing experience?" To which I responded with, "going on a fly fishing trip in Arizona with an astronaut." It took me a while to locate pictures of this trip and when I did find them it just made me wish I had taken more. These were also long before social media and the craze to capture and document ones self at all times for a few likes. So I will have to supplement old photo's, from film, with old memories of a time long long ago, enjoy!

This journey started late spring 1997. I am about to graduate high school and my aunt (Linda) and uncle (Dave) are in visiting from Arizona for my graduation ceremony. To my surprise, my aunt and uncle give me my first ever fly rod as a graduation present, an 8'6" four piece 6 weight Cortland starter kit along with a standing invite to go fishing in their home state one day. Pretty generous present in my books, I was stoked!

I've always enjoyed going fishing, yet I had never been fully exposed to the fly aspect of the sport. I went fly fishing with friends who had a fly rod but never fully wanted to jump in as I didn't have a true mentor I could learn from. Also, fly fishing at the time had the vibe of an old man in a tweed hat. This was proven about a decade later when I met my future father in law, and personal fly fishing Yoda, for the first time. #socialmediageorge on IG for more details.

Back then I was a bit of a punk kid and didn't much care for anything more than parties. So that rod went straight into the bedroom closet and the promise of the trip along with it. To my surprise, a few years later I got an invite to go down to Arizona for a visit and to finally go fly fishing. So out came the rod, off with the dust, and off I went on what could only be described as a trip of a life time.

1997 First Fly Rod - High School Grad Present

The trip started off with a bang. Wheels down in Phoenix, I am picked up by my aunt Linda and we are off to a local Cajun joint to meet my uncle for dinner. All I recall of day one is there were crab claws in butter, several Hurricanes (potent rum drink) downed and a pool to soak in before bed. It was a good first day!

The following morning we set forth on our journey to the northern reaches of Arizona. Famously known locally, for this old time western river crossing called Lee's Ferry situated in the heart of Glen Canyon National recreation area. To which our final destination would be at the Cliff Dweller's Lodge later that evening where we would meet up with the remainder of our fishing party.

Along the way we had to pick up one of my uncle's buddies Paul in Flagstaff. As we're driving through Flagstaff we enter what is quite possibly one of the most beautiful golf course communities I've ever seen. Picture this, tall thirty foot pine trees surrounding a mountainous environment with beautiful acreage homes nestled in between the holes. Stunning to say the least, community name also long forgotten. But what was to come likely blanked it for me!

Driving through this estate setting I knew something was up and asked, "Hey just wondering, what on earth does or did your friend do for a living? These houses and community are insane!" What my uncle said next made my heart rate elevate and my skin get all pimply. "Oh Paul, he worked for NASA." My exclaimed reaction was, "WHAT!!" Followed by, "And did what there exactly!" Like it was nothing significant, my uncle calmly says, he was an ASTRONAUT." That is pretty much the exact moment when we reached Paul's driveway and time slowed to a halt. There he was, Astronaut Paul Weitz and his lovely wife awaiting our arrival on their driveway. I am a mouse among giants I thought, this is going to be one hell of a trip as I stepped out of my uncles truck to greet them.

The remainder of the drive was a blur, I mostly thought about if this is my uncles first buddy then what hell are the other two going to be like?

Upon arrival at Cliff Dweller's Lodge, we checked in and were notified that the other half of our party, Pete and Hank, had arrived already. This is when I was introduced to Pete, let's call him Thirty Eight Special Pete. I will always remember Pete as the gun touting, NRA spouting, all American cowboy who told me before I even knew his name NOT to SHOOT his GUN in the hotel room. Oh and by the way, his gun just happened to be a thirty eight special he so cleverly left on the dresser, chamber open and bullets spilled next to it. Totally Safe! Pete followed this up by saying, "do you snore boy?" "Cause if you do you're on the couch in the other room!" To which I responded, "I am cool with the couch, I heard you boys like to cuddle in private anyhow!" Just then my uncle walked into the room, aka double wide trailer, at this point laughing and said to leave me alone as I was just a Canadian.

I stepped outside to continue to unload the truck and was met by Hank on the steps, much tamer first greeting. Hank made some crack about Pete's height and the fact he was compensating for something by flaunting his gun around so I knew old Hank and I would get along. This trip was getting weirder by the second and man I couldn't wait to get out on the jet boat and see what this fly fishing racket was all about.

Now everyone knows how American's are known for their portion control, so the breakfast we had, no I had, the following morning was intense. My uncle informed me that we were all going to get the "Cowboy Special" as it was a fishing tradition of theirs so I was cool and was the first to order. Should've known he was setting me up, this "Special" was more like a buffet! Three eggs, three strips of bacon, three sausages, toast, hash, and a stack of three pancakes the size of a dinner plate. Being twenty something I did my best to manage this feast but let's just say the boat ride wasn't so pleasant.

A short fifteen minute jet boat ride up the Colorado river and we were at our first run. I could see fish in the river on our ride up so I was stoked to get my line wet and see what happened. I worked this first section with the advice from Hank as my uncle, Pete and Paul went down stream. Picture this here I am in the middle of this amazing canyon, on one of the most beautiful rivers I've ever seen, with no clue or guidance on what to do. So what did I do, tied on a zebra midge and went fishing!

I looked back to see what Hank was doing and he had cast his dry fly in some slack water and laid down for a nap. Gee thanks for the help Hank! I soldiered on and cast my line, tangled my line, re-tied on another leader and midge. Frustrating part was the river was so rich with life, I had trout stacked up at my feet using me as a break in the current. But do you think I could get one to eat my fly...heck NO! This is when I turned back to walk to the boat that I saw a trout sip Hank's fly in that slack water as he slept on the freaking bank, seriously! The sound of Hank's reel going off was enough to erect him to a sitting position to fight the Rainbow Trout and land it of all things. I thought of calling it a day right at that very moment as all the luck was pretty much sucked out of the entire canyon...thanks again HANK! All kidding aside, it was at least a beautiful day on the river and we were just getting started.

None of the other guys had landed any fish either by lunch time so I wasn't feeling so bad about it. As my uncle and "Thirty Eight Special Pete" BBQ some lunch, I ventured out to practice casting on my own. Feeling more and more confident in my cast and not knowing the difference between drift and drag, my zebra midge friend and I were at it again. But this time the river smiled on me as I netted a Rainbow Trout of my own. This wasn't the worlds biggest trout, but at the time I was feeling like I was the astronaut! Holding this six inch fish while my uncle scrambled to take a photo on a disposable camera I felt pretty darn accomplished.

While eating lunch I noticed that a few of my fellow fishing partners, my uncle included were packing heat. I said, "Um fellas, I might be a dumb Canadian for asking this but what are the guns for?" To which they repeated, "Bears!" I almost fell over with laughter! Bears? What bear in its right mind would be within a hundred miles of this place I thought. This river was about as busy as a tailgate party on super bowl. Jet boat tours, fishing guides, and tourist floats from Glen Canyon Dam boat launch were coming past us in rapid succession. Looking back on it now, no wonder the fishing was so poor in the afternoon, the river was a hot spot for tourism.

I wish I could go back and teach that river and those fish a lesson! Maybe one day...

A First Look At The River, Colorado, Early AM

Lunch down in the canyon, Paul & Hank chill on the boat while Dave & Pete BBQ. I Did catch one small Rainbow Trout while we had our lunch, was out of pure luck as I had no clue what I was doing.

Boat Views First Lines Were Dipped

Below is the link to where we stayed, Cliff Dwellers Lodge, they also are a full fitted outfitter too. Photo is from a famous section of the Colorado River called Horse Shoe Bend. Not my photo, this is from the lodge's website as a part of their promo material.