The icy waters of the Provo River stand in harsh contrast to the blistering summer sun. Fly-fishing guide Jeremy Jones steps into the frigid water without the insulation of chest waders and holds out his hand to assist his client through the river's strong current. Jones leads Rick Wood, a middle-aged man from California on a corporate retreat, to a pocket of gentler water where he expects to find fish. After one or two demonstration casts, Jones hands over the rod and coaches Wood though the motions, practically yelling over the loud rush of the river at their knees. Within minutes Wood has a hit and -- with expert direction from Jones -- he lands the first of many nice-sized brown trout that day.

"I think that taking a guided fly-fishing trip on the Provo if you want to learn how to fish is key," Jones said. "If you try it yourself, there is lot of trial and error. Figuring out where fish like to sit, what flies to use, ... how much weight, how long your leader is -- there are just so many things that go into being able to catch nice fish year-round."

Jones is completely serious about fishing year-round. "The winter fishing is great," he said. "It just gets cold, people's hands start getting cold and the eyelets on the fly-rod start to ice up, so it makes it tough to cast. But I have had some of my best days on the Provo River in complete blizzards at negative 10 degrees and still catching fish. Nobody is out there, and everything is so white. It is beautiful."

Even with such dedication to the art of angling and the countless fish that he has landed in the past eight years as a guide, Jones and his other guides practice a strictly catch-and-release fishing philosophy. They will not prevent clients from keeping a fish, but interested clients must bring their own cooler and handle filleting the fish themselves. In all of the fishing adventures in Jones's life, he has never kept a fish.

"I think the fish are such beautiful trout that I have no desire to keep them," Jones said. "I want other people to have the chance to hook those big fish."

Jones considers fly fishing to be a sport, one that requires an understanding of nature and the skill to catch a fish gracefully. He uses tiny flies with tiny hooks that do not have barbs to help keep the hook in place. Therefore the process of reeling in a fish requires slow and careful pressure to ensure that the fish isn't lost.

"It is more of sport for me to figure out where the fish are sitting versus throwing out a big piece of cheese or a worm and sitting there waiting for the fish to come and hit it," Jones said. "The Zen of fly fishing is reading the water, figuring out what type of fly the fish are taking that time of the day, setting the hook right and playing the fish right to then land it in the net."

Jones studies the water and the patterns of the river before even wading in. He looks for the deeper, calmer and cooler areas of the river that he knows the fish like. When he hooks a fish onto his line, his movements are fluid yet calculated. He works the reel slowly, allowing the fish to run downstream, to leap from the water, and only when the moment is perfect and the fish is ready does he even reach for his net.

"Big fish are smart," Jones said. "To catch a big fish on one of your flies, using barbless hooks, and getting it in the net is something special. To see such a beautiful trout in such a beautiful stream, that you caught, there is no feeling like it."