The wind brushes through the leaves of the tall cottonwood trees growing along the riverbank.  Pines and aspens dominate the not-too-distant mountainsides.  What seem to be rocket-propelled sparrows are dropping within inches of the river’s surface, feeding on insects you haven’t yet identified. 

    The river rolls by, as your hands can’t quite tie the same knots you perfected years before.  And all of this before you’ve even seen the first trout rise from the deep belly of the water. 

    In Colorado alone there are more than 9,000 miles of trout water.  From the Animas in the southwest, up the state-slicing Arkansas in the middle, to the Cache La Poudre in the north, there is plenty of the cold water that trout are dependent on and that fishermen and women seek out.

    And in all of Colorado, there is one fly shop that is permitted to guide on more water than any other.  Located in Silverthorne, on the north side of I-70—and most important, set on a bank of the Blue River—is Cutthroat Anglers.  Its owner, Trapper Rudd, has been guiding in Colorado, and around the world, for decades but from the moment you step into the shop it’s easy to mistake his smile and enthusiasm with that of a man just hitting his stride.  “My work is better than most people’s vacations,” Rudd says.  “Why wouldn’t I be happy?” 

    When it does happen, it happens fast.  The upward ripple as the great fish sucks down what you now realize is a hatching caddis fly, followed by its abrupt retreat back into the dark.  But all you really register is a quick flash of silver.  And then, a hint of a tail. Finally, a size 14 elk hair caddis with an olive torso is on the end of your line.  You wanted to tie on a nymph, maybe a flashback pheasant tail, to drop behind the caddis, but right now the fish are rising.  

    For those who are beginners, it is Rudd’s attitude toward the sport that might be most beneficial.  “A lot of people are intimidated by fly-fishing,” he says, “but there is nothing mysterious about it.  Some people just suck all of the fun out of it, it’s our job to dispel all of the intimidating crap and show people they can enjoy this as a sport, or a hobby or as meditation.  The choice is theirs.” 

    People have learned to fly-fish in parks, in gymnasiums, even convention centers, but Rudd believes the best place to learn is where there are fish.  “We used to have fly-fishing classes outside the shop, but we learned that people get more out of it and remember more when they’re on the water.  Even if you’re not a beginner, anytime you’re out with a guide your brain should be swimming in all of the information you get.”