Sight Fishing, Bent Bamboo and Bows

" I believe cats to be spirits come to earth. A cat, I am sure, could walk on a cloud without coming through".
- Jules Verne

I was hiking downstream returning to where I parked. It had been a good day on the water. Two anglers were across the river. The younger one had a good bend in his rod. The older fellow wasn't packing. Maybe he was a guide or he put his rod down to help his friend land the fish. I watched him fight the sizable trout and commented from a distance that it looked like he was fishing with Bamboo. A big smile grew. The other fellow said proudly they had spotted the fish rising two feet from the bank and hooked it on a size 18 dry fly. Stuff like that happens on this river. I stood there and took it all in while he landed it. We talked and agreed it was an accomplishment: a big fish on a small dry...and on Bamboo!



As I continued my walk clouds rolled in. I had my success earlier in almost full sun when trout spotting was best. Now things were very challenging. I used the dark reflection of the high cliffs to my advantage to see through the grey surface. These were the same cliffs that blinded me earlier when the sun was out. Now they were my friend. I stopped at a section of the river that held a good fish as I had spooked one there several weeks earlier. My angling memory is good. I stood still for ten minutes watching the water. The trout's movement gave it away otherwise with the poor visibility, I would have never seen it. Movement always catches our eye. I casted. A large trout ate my dry fly.

I won't have a chance to get back to fish the Prairie rivers before the season ends. I'm going to miss the promise of the day on the drive from the mountains out onto the Plains in the early morning light. I'm going to miss hiking the undulating coulees and their late day shadows. I'm going to miss the big broad winged birds riding the afternoon thermals and their shadows on the river. I'm going to miss the Pyrenees sheep herder. I'm going to miss staring into the water for hours on end in search of trout as it is so mesmerising and crystal ball like. And of course I'll miss tricking the occasional big beautiful trout in shallow water. The Buffalo, the ancient High Plains Grizzlies, and the powerful Nomadic Hunters are out there somewhere roaming the Coulees. Next year while walking along a river, I'll find them.



mayfly: mahogany





In the Canyon

"We have to stop and be humble enough to understand that there is something called mystery."
- Paulo Coelho

thick rainbow

canyon bend

exiting the canyon



I knew there had to be rainbows down in the canyon. Probably some rattlesnakes too. The reptiles are rare but they're there. And I thought that if I looked real hard I might see a dinosaur head sticking out from a canyon wall, staring right at me. I felt that if I was scared down there, the trout would sense it and I'd never catch a big rainbow. I packed some water, some apples and granola bars along with some extra courage and hiked the 400 to 500 feet down into the canyon, and went downstream into the heart of it. I never saw a soul all day; just my own reflection. The high thin cirrus clouds and pale vertical cliffs created blinding glare. Spotting trout was difficult. I kept hunting for them while keeping an eye out for falling rocks, a T-Rex face and listened for rattlers and even canyon spirits. I only spotted three trout in the five hours I was there. One saw me before I saw it...gone in an instant. The second fish ignored my fly. Then it ignored my second fly...then third...then feeling harassed disappeared into deeper canyon water. I started to think the rainbows smelled my fear and that the spirits were talking and conspiring, and that it wasn't my day. The third sighted trout ate my offering but no hook up. The fly slipped out when I lifted the rod. Then I saw no fish for a very long time. It seemed the canyon was getting the better of me so I decided to hike upstream out of it. Once out, the high wispy clouds disappeared and in the broad valley looking into the river for fins became much easier. My canine sheep herder friend from the Pyrenees appeared from out of no where. Then some friendly Alberta cattle. Then a timid six foot South American Llama. Then like the flip of a switch, I started tricking big rainbows.



sheep herder after belly rub

locals

Fish it to the End

" A trout is a moment of beauty know only to those who seek it."
- Arnold Gingrich

There are not many weekends left in the angling season and therefore I always try to get out as often as I can. A rooster fishing friend in Baja is usually Steelheading on the Deschutes at this time of year. I always contact him in the Fall to see how he is doing on that Oregon river and he reciprocates with a question on how the trout fishing has been. His final note is always, "Fish it to the end!"

I returned to a Plains river this weekend and spent the afternoon on it. When I arrived it was tough going due to the clouds. Sight fishing is so, so weather dependent. By late afternoon the sun poked through and there was opportunity.

The first fish I caught died. I honestly can't remember when that last happened to me. Maybe 25 years ago. I guess there have been fish that I caught and released that could have died after they swam away but I never witnessed it. I did witness the death of this fish. I was fishing a dry fly and missed the take as I was distracted by a noise upstream. When my eyes returned to the slack water I had casted to, where my fly had been floating, it was gone. I knew something was up so I raised the rod tip, felt tension and the rainbow took off across the river. It fought harder than most but I was able to land it fairly quickly. The fly was lodged deeper than usual probably because I missed the take and reacted late. I debated whether I should simply clip my line and leave the fly. Instead I managed to extract it with relative ease with forceps. The fish, however, seemed spent. I held it in a flow for about 20 minutes waiting for it to revive but it never did. Rigor Mortis occurred and the pulse of its gills became faint. There was no kick of the tail or body wiggle as usually happens. With this fish, nothing.

I guess it is a reminder that fly fishing does occasionally kill fish and certainly damages some even when good angling practises and precautions are taken. One of the best parts of fly fishing is getting to admire a trout up close, its beauty, and then the release, and watching it return to the wild below. Unfortunately, this was not the case today with this particular fish.

I left the fish upright lodged between two mid-sized river stones with a gentle flow running over it, dorsal fin protruding skyward. As I walked downstream I kept looking back to see if it was still there; to see if by some miracle life might have surged back into it, and it would swim off.

Everything has a spiritual essence; a soul. I'll try and be even more careful in the future.

Sight Fishing, Hula Hoops and Sheep Herding

"You don't leave fish to find fish."
 -Joe F.

"The Lord can give, and the Lord can take away. I might be sheep herding next year."
 -Elvis Presley


The mantra that you "don't leave fish to find fish" keeps me going back to two rivers out on the Plains. Some big fins are out there and they have been cruising and feeding, and so I keep showing up to try and trick them. A blue sky above on a day off means get the car keys and go.

Once stream side I forget about most of the river and search the first five to ten yards out for any sign of life: a dark back creeping up a run, a shallow water bank feeder, a cycling feeder. The sight fishing all takes place in a foot or two of water, or less. My ankles get wet and that's about it.

It was blue above on Saturday morning and so I made the drive. I hiked downstream and spotted some trout. I also spotted a large family or group of friends camping in the Coulees. They were dreadlocked and playing with hula hoops. It was kind of carnival like with the trailer, tent and outstretched tarps. I kept looking for a juggler, or a stilt walker. They looked like they had been there all summer. I thought, "not a bad place to hang out".

It was sunny on Sunday and so I went again. Surprisingly I had the place to myself. I never saw another angler. This time I went upstream; way upstream. I was on my knees moving in on a bank fish when I heard a loud panting behind me. It was a big white Pyrenees like pooch with a dangling pink tongue. She was a sheep dog. She nudged me and flipped over waiting for a belly rub. How could I resist. After that she had a brief swim and then slipped back under a barbed wire fence to watch over a sizable herd up on a hill. A dutiful employee.

 

On both days the sight fishing was mesmerising. I had to cover a lot of territory but with the high sun and blue sky I got to watch a dozen fish react to my offerings. I was watching them think. One fish came up to my fly which landed between it and the bank...it looked at it and then lazily turned away, only to circle and return a couple of seconds later for another look, suspending itself right in front of the fly for a few more seconds, and then it gently broke the surface with its nose and ate it.

On the drive home on late Sunday afternoon a pack of reservation dogs stood on the highway and stared down my approaching car which was going 120km. When I slowed down and swerved they went for my tires.

It was a good weekend. Some of the best visual angling I have ever experienced. I saw my reel backing two times, got lucky and landed several great trout. I also got to see hula hooping Bedouins, a friendly sheep herder, and some reservation dogs with attitude... just about anything can happen, and often does, out on the Plains!

Post Script-
When I got home I rummaged through the garage to see if I could find and old hula hoop...

Spotting Rainbows in the Sun

thick rainbow

 

"You can observe a lot just by watching."

    -Yogi Berra

 

I went back to a river on the prairies to sight fish again. It is always easy to get up early and make the long drive there...it's a special river. In the morning I had two large fish on and lost both on their initial run. Then in a ten minute time span three fish ate my fly but no hook up. I checked my fly. It looked alright. Before I knew it the sun was high, it was noon and no fish landed. It was kind of a repeat of the bad luck I had last weekend on this river when I missed two biggies. Then I got a refusal on a fish that was cycling in a pool. I thought I was going to get skunked. But I hung in there. Sometimes enthusiasm and persistence can "turn the tide"...in fishing and elsewhere.

wide open terrain

I started heading downstream. I eventually walked along a eight foot elevated bank on the outside turn of the river. The sun was at my back and I could see through the water's surface for quite a distance. In short time, I spotted a fish just downstream in inches of water. I had to make a direct downstream presentation and feed line. You only get one shot at a fish this way. He ate it, no hesitation. I paused before striking so as not to pull the fly out of his mouth. Hook-up! The rainbow stayed on. My luck had changed.

I continued walking and in about thirty yards or so I spotted another rainbow in very shallow water...same scenario...same presentation...the fish committed...hook-up! Once again it stayed on.



A little further downstream the river broadened into a flat. A rainbow was creeping upstream thirty feet out in the skinny water. Like the others it was blind (sun) to my presence. I casted from the shore almost perpendicular to the fish. It tipped up and ate...hook-up!

Where I was fishing is wide open territory with little cover like bushes or trees. With the sun out you are fully exposed. The place receives a lot of angling pressure so the fish are skittish. They are always on the look-out for anglers, Osprey and Pelicans. If they see movement above, they are gone, gone, gone. Sometimes the early or late day shadow of a cliff can hide you but otherwise you have to use positioning and the location of the sun to full advantage to see fish before they see you. Then you have a shot at them. That's if you are sight fishing. You also got to go slow, stay low and you don't want anything shiny on you. If they see a flash...game over!

The place demands the best of me. That's why I keep going back.



burnt reservation church

 

Fly Fishing & the Power of Place

This weekend I fished two tailwater rivers out on the Plains. I hadn't been out in almost two weeks so I put in a lot of hours especially on Saturday. I walked many miles and spotted a dozen or so very good fish on my outings. Although I landed a few good ones I missed many more. Today I had two fish eat my offering on the surface only to have the fly slip out when I raised the rod tip. They were great rainbows...both in a foot or less of water. They were the best fish spotted all weekend.



On Saturday I fished a section of a river I call the "Canyon". I haven't hiked down in there in years. The river was higher than I expected and spotting trout was challenging. The spillway by the dam had water flowing over it. I've never seen that in August. Maybe the high wind was pushing water over it. 



spillway

When I was in the Canyon I found myself constantly looking around and especially up...way up. The place kept pulling my eyes off of the water. And the sound of the world was magnified: the rushing water, wind, the hawks above... it is the "Chant of Nature" (Thomas Moore). The canyon is a powerful place.



entering the canyon

driving home: storm clouds

More Trout Spotting on the Plains

"There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm"
  --Willa Cather

This past long weekend (Monday) the weather report looked good: mainly sunny in the morning with a few clouds and then a chance of thunderstorms in the late afternoon. So I planned another trip to a river on the prairies hoping to spot trout as I've had some success the past couple of weeks sight fishing. 




promising morning

I left early hoping to take advantage of the sunlight and blue sky. While driving out of the mountains onto the flats, I started to see a lot of water on the road (puddles) and in the ditches. It looked like there had been a downpour overnight.




old reservation gas station: closed

 

When I got to the river it was somewhat milky looking...not great for sight fishing. Clearly, the area had experienced heavy rain. As I hiked the coulees I started noticing deep mounds of hail in the shadowy crevasses. The ground was mushy and water was draining from everywhere into the river. I didn't look like the river was about to clear anytime soon. As I walked the bluffs I didn't see any fish. The visibility wasn't great. I did see some clouds of Trico mayflies hovering over the water but no risers below.




hail


When I reached the section I wanted to fish I spotted a pair of rainbows eating nymphs 2 or 3 feet below the surface on a current edge fairly close to the bank. They were quite active. A good sign. On occasion one would rise close to the surface. I dropped down to the water and fished a terrestrial pattern hoping to pull one up. No luck. So I climbed back up to my lookout point to see if they were still around. They were harder to spot this time. They had moved deeper and further out in the main flow. I said to myself, "rest the spot and return".


I hiked further upstream. Clouds started developing in the distance. Between the clouds and off coloured water, spotting fish became a real challenge. I felt I only had a chance if one was in very shallow water and near river's edge. I didn't see any fish upstream even though I walked the rim of the coulee and carefully scanned below. A territorial hawk kept buzzing me. It was unnerving how close he came to my head and the loud sound of him ripping through the air. I was spending more time looking out for him than for trout. Eventually I cowered and retreated, and decided to returned to where I had spotted the two rainbows earlier. They were still visible and feeding. I fished the same terrestrial pattern but this time with a nymph dropper two feet below. After all, sometimes you have to listen to "What the Trout Said" (Datus Proper). After a couple of casts, Bingo! My only fish of the day...but a good one. One good fish can make a day.

sight fished rainbow

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring river sections I have never fished before and planning for future sight fishing outings. I spooked several fish in the grey light that I never had a chance to see. Several impressive wakes moved from the shallows to deeper water. They seemed big. The weather condition continued to worsen: menacing storm clouds came in along with rain and thunder. With the moisture and low light, life started spilling out all over the place. Huge deer appear from out of nowhere. Many large birds of prey began circling overhead: Osprey and Golden Eagles. I hung in there dodging hawks and lightening bolts but it never cleared. The place was simply full of life and energy. To be utterly spellbound by nature.. that I was. I have to go back there.






returning home: prairies to mountains



Trout Spotting Under a Prairie Sky

"Man makes plans, and God laughs"

--Yiddish Proverb

I only had four or five hours to fish on Saturday and decided to head to a location at least 45 minutes away. I went as the sky was fairly clear and I was hoping to spot trout. The two pools I wanted to fish are below bluffs and are about a 30 minute hike from where I park. I knew I would have only a couple of hours to actually fish. Not a lot of time but I know the spot fairly well and felt that with the mid day high sun I might see some good fish from the cliffs, and maybe connect with one. I had been on the river last week in the evening and knew the water was just about as clear as it ever gets, and that the flow was good for dry fly angling. You see, I had a plan.

cottonwood trail to pools



trout spotting from above

So off I went. Normally I'm pretty good at obeying speed limits but I flew at warp speed once I was off the main highway and onto the rural prairie roads. I kept imagining a fellow with a heavy Scottish accent saying, "Captain the Dilithium crystals just can't take it anymore at this speed" (Star Trek). Hawks eyed me whizzing by from their hay bale perches. There were two trucks parked at the river and I could see anglers wading nearby. I thought, "Hopefully no one went way downstream?" I geared up and quickly hiked the faint trail to where I wanted to fish. At the first pool it took me a little while to start seeing fish even from up high. There is "looking" and then there is actual "seeing". The two aren't the same. Sometimes you "look" for your car keys but fail to "see" them right in front of you on the kitchen table. It is easy to look but harder to see. I seem to be able to make the shift to "seeing" when I stop moving and do even better if I kneel or sit down. Eventually I spotted three trout. Two were roaming around in fairly deep water but every once in awhile one would rise and eat from the surface in a soft spot where food was collecting. It looked good. I was confident I had a chance to fool one. I dropped down from the bluff and fished it from an upstream position. After one cast I started second guessing my strategy and was considering circling downstream to cast to it from behind. In the middle of that "thought" the fish took my offering and I landed him...a rainbow.



18" rainbow on dry

I walked to the next pool and watched the water from up high as I went. I located another nice fish on the bank between pools. It was sipping on the occasional PMD in very shallow, slow water. I hiked down the embankment and fished it from behind. I hooked but did not land it. Another nice rainbow.

At the second pool I spotted a good fish rise in a subtle, slow flow with a narrow bubble line. Then the trout disappeared. From my perch I watched the area for 20 or 30 minutes. Some high white clouds appeared which made spotting more challenging. Eventually a head poked up and it started feeding fairly consistently. I fished to it upstream. Another rainbow. After that it was time to go home.



20" rainbow on small dry fly

Not all angling outings work out as hoped. Most don't. Today it did...I made a plan and God smiled on me.