Day: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12	E-MAIL

708 Day 8 - Fish Camp

click for map

After leaving Lost cabin, we passed though Agua Fria Camp in a short hike to Fish Camp. Those of you who went to college at Texas A&M know the term, "Fish Camp", as the name for a week-long indoctrination event designed to prepare new students for the ways of Aggie life. But, Philmont's Fish Camp was nothing of that sort. Rather, it is a lush, green camp in South Country situated right on the Agua Fria, offering fishing in both rod-and-reel and fly-casting forms.

We established our campsite and went to inquire about the programme and about obtaining fishing licences.

John decides to start the fire using his head

We spent what must have been hours in the camp lodge learning about its history and how to tie flies for fishing. It's far too much effort trying to get the threads to lay down just right. Buy yourself a fly, ey. Better yet, buy yourself a fish! It will probably cost less than the fishing licenses we had to purchase. The lodge building itself had been one of Waite Phillips's favourites, and had also been a family dwelling at one point. After being unsuccessful at actually tying the flies, we took pre-made flies and poles and proceeded down to the creek to cast them.

While not building camp or trying to fly-fish, we remained around camp, occasionally messing around trying to cross the creek at shallow points.

Fly casting has got to be one of the world's most tedious tasks. It is a good exercise in patience, anyway. You must get the pole swinging back and forth, in front of you and in back, as you work the line out of the reel. When you have worked up enough running length on the line, you fling the line forward onto the surface of the water. The line itself is about 1/16ths of an inch thick. Assuming this does not frighten the fish away, they are supposed to think the fly you tied on the end of the line is an actual insect. I think even fish are smarter than this. After all the effort tying the flies, and all the effort whipping the line into the river, no one caught any fish. But it was surely the most beautiful camp in South Country.

We were scheduled to again pick up food at Phillips Junction. Fortunately, there is a trail leading to it north from Fish Camp... about half the distance of the route we took getting here. As the crow flies, it really was only about two miles to the north. However, it goes over many hills, up and down, so that tends to stretch the distance out somewhat. I and a few others departed up this trail with empty packs to get our final four days worth of food. The rest remained to tend camp.

		Day: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12	E-MAIL