Day 4


We decided to forego hiking today and test out the fishing at the local fishing hatchery.  The Red River fish hatchery produced something like 175,000 pounds of trout to stock local rivers and streams.  Next to the hatchery, there is a small lake that they keep stocked with trout.  This lake is to be fished by children 12 and under and seniors over 65.  We took the children and let them fish.  A cool and scenic morning netted us two trout.  For the adults, keeping lines untangle and baiting hooks was a full time job.
We then headed back into Red River to check out a local burger eatery and perhaps ride the ski lift.  The youngest three were in a special kind of mood and bickered and fought the whole time I suspect the late nights and such are catching up with them.  We ended up taking most of the food to go and skipping riding the ski lift.
I texted my former colleague to set up a time to meet to fish.  He invited us down to his families place just North of town.  It was a nice adobe home, in the classic New Mexico fashion.  Bright Southwestern colors adorned the rich Southwestern architecture and the courtyard offered 360 degree views of the mountains and high desert.  We chatted for a while and he and I went to fly fish the Red River while the children and Amy went into Taos and the local toy store on the Plaza.
Fly fishing was an amazing experience. It was completely new to me and the learning curve was steep.  I am not sure I can go back to gulag fishing.  The experience of wading into crystal clear water surrounded by mountains, while casting the locally made fly in that rhythmic  way seemed to melt away all of the stresses of life.  In that moment, the water flowed, the trout were biting, and the air was clean.  These perceptions all blended into one sense and I achieved what I was looking for, if only for a short while.  I only got hung up on trees and slipped and fell in the water a few times.  The mosquitoes came out and we called it a day.  The number of fish caught did not matter, only that the river flowed and would always flow.
We hiked out the the river area and met up with Amy and the kids who had returned to the hatchery pond.  They had had no luck yet, but as the sun sunk, Alex and Grant both landed trout.  The light slowly faded and we packed up.  There were a few tears from those who did not catch fish but the tears faded to sleep as we headed back to the campsite.
We push off tomorrow and set course for Durango.  We will have to check the reports and there seems to be a forrest fire awfully close to town.  We shall see.