Last weekend, having President’s Day off from work, I was able to hit both the middle Provo and the lower canyon. Both days were the kind that make you feel like kind of a badass just for going at all because it’s so cold and windy.

I stalled for like 20 minutes after arriving because I didn’t want to get out of the warm car, since I was also a bit under the weather, but the older you get, you realize that you can’t waste the chance when you have it. With temps in the 20s, I was constantly breaking ice out of my eyelets and stopping often to get the feeling back in my fingers, but as oft happens on the mighty Provo during winter, I was rewarded with hours of dry fly fishing on midges, and you only notice the cold when you’re not catching fish right. As exciting as it is to catch big fish on huge stoneflies, caddis, etc. during the warmer months, there is something special about catching large fish on 7X and a fly so small you can barely see it, and a take so subtle that you wonder if you really even saw anything. On Saturday I hit the Charleston area and was able to fish dries most of the afternoon to smallish, but feisty rainbows like this guy:

As much as I like to chase the bigger fish, I had a lot of fun fishing for these little guys for a couple of hours. On Monday, the lower canyon was a different story. I love all sections of the Provo River, but the canyon will always be my favorite, and it’s been awhile since I’ve made it there now that I’m in Salt Lake. Temps were in the low 20s and it was very windy, but luckily the fish don’t care about any of that, and I was able to catch fish on small midge emergers for the entire afternoon, except that these ones were not that small. I kept thinking I was due to hook a small fish, and they just kept being anywhere from 14-17.” Here is one of my favorites:

Some of my best fishing memories have happened in the midst of harsh or difficult circumstances, in this case cold weather and sickness. An old friend and fly fishing mentor used to always tell me that there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear. I took this to heart and started refining my winter gear and have enjoyed winter fly fishing ever since, in a way even embracing the weather conditions. This mirrors my life in general, as many of my most cherished memories have taken place during the most difficult times in my life. Maybe the non-fishing equivalent of that saying would be something like, there’s no such thing as a bad life, just a bad perspective.