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.

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.

Roaming & Trout Spotting

 "These good times are like money in the bank. We were born lookin' for rainbows...Let's go fishin', Frank... If anyone asks you what it's all about, wink and grin and tell 'em trout."

 

-- from Let's Go Fishin' Frank, by Danny O'Keefe

One week ago a good friend was visiting and we roamed around and tossed flies on several rivers in the SW corner of Alberta. It was tough angling. It seemed like the recent floods have simply punched the life out of many streams.The Crowsnest river, on the days I walked it, had few mayflies and I didn't even see one large sipper. Unusual for July. The PMD hatch simply didn't develop. There were large and mid-sized stone flies on some sections of the river and you could prospect with a dry but even that was very slow going.

river side flood damage

My favourite local hatch river, the lower Oldman, was beyond silty: think chocolate milk! In the past two weeks, I have seen little improvement in it. The visibility is less than one foot and I don't see it clearing anytime soon.

The lower Castle river, on the one day I fished it, was clear but seemed void of life: trout and bugs. I spotted a Toad stream side: tough little guy. I don`t know how he survived the recent torrent.

toad

sight fished rainbow, caught by author on dry fly

There was some life on a river further south and it was fairly clear. And we had some luck with a Cutthroat stream up in the mountains. We just kept moving around and searching.



beautiful cutthroat, caught by Joe F on dry fly

big rainbow caught sight fishing, by Joe F on dry fly



clear sky and great terrain for trout spotting

Our persistence paid off on some days in what so far has been a very tough season for the dry fly angler. The pictures capture our successes but what you don`t see is all the long hours we put in every day; the many miles covered on foot; the time spent in the mid-day heat standing on high cliffs and the grassland benches searching the water below for a few good fish; and the long faces and frustration after some very challenging days. We did catch some fish; and several very special ones. There were no gimmes this week. My friend, Joe, a versatile angler, caught trout on all the rivers we fished. There were a few angling moments where it all came together. And other moments like the drive home one day from the plains to the foothills where for a split second my eye caught a Pinto Mare and her Colt illuminated in a green field by the warm, soft setting sun during what painters and photographers call the Magic Hour...an image I'll never forget.




crowsnest river rainbow, caught by Joe F, prospecting with dry fly

The most fascinating angling days for me were when we got to sight fish to several large trout. It was classic trout spotting, watching them cycle and fishing dries in very shallow water...so visual!

An excellent DVD on this type of angling is: Sight Fishing Trout Rivers by Jensen Fly Fishing. It is full of information and the video footage is beautiful.



rainbow caught sight fishing with dry fly in shallows by author



trout spotting from cliff

rainbow trout, caught by Joe F

Sub-Zero Trout

tailwater rainbow caught on midge

Winter arrived in SW Alberta last week. Saturday afternoon the temperature was sub-zero. I had to deal with ice in the rod guides, a frozen reel and of course cold fingertips in spite of gloves. Vibram soles without studs along with snow and ice made for some comical moments. I slid down several steep embankments on my derriere....early season tobogganing. The cold weather made an already weak hatch, weaker. There were still some BWO's around along with midges. I had to cover territory and hunt to find rising fish. Eventually I found several and a couple were quite large. The best one landed was just shy of 20 inches. It took a size 20 midge: black body, a couple of turns of grizzly hackle, clear trailing shuck, and white wing for visibility. Best thing about the hook up was that the fish was found sipping in a relaxed manner just off of the bank in a foot of water or less. I was downstream and watched its behaviour for a short while before casting. It was feeding fairly consistently and most of its head, which was large, poked through the surface. After several casts things came together and I saw it leave the bottom, gently rise and take in the tiny imitation, all kind of in slow motion. Fortunately I didn't react too quickly, as sometimes I do with a very slow riser. I waited for the fish to take the imitation, slowly raised the rod tip and the small hook held. It had been caught before, probably on a large hook and had some damage done to it's mouth. Otherwise it was healthy. Tailwater rivers are amazing: large trout in shallow water, on small flies in sub-zero temperatures!

On a Twitch

I've been in Montreal for over a week visiting family, recently returned to Alberta and got a chance this afternoon to visit a local tailwater river that I've been fishing consistently all summer. Water levels are much lower now. It was cloudy earlier in the day but when I arrived at the river the sky cleared-up and I fished in almost full sun. The PMD hatch is almost done but I managed several mid sized rainbows and a good brown on what is left of this small pale mayfly. By late afternoon the wind kicked in and the weak hatch completely died out. I walked some distance looking for fish but saw none. Things got difficult with no bugs on the water. I decided to fish a side channel with a grasshopper. Several weeks ago I spotted two browns there. I got one prospecting with the hopper pattern. It was an aggressive take just off the bank on a twitch. Here is a pic.

tailwater brown

side channel

The next small fly hatch will be Olives (baetis). This mayfly will show up as Fall progresses or when inclement weather strikes.

While in Montreal I drove one hour south to the foothills of the Adirondacks (upstate New York) to visit a river that I learned to fly fish on and where I caught my first trout on a dry fly. It was great to see it again. The region is very beautiful as is the river. Water levels there were extremely low due to a summer of intense heat and little rain. In a future post I'll write more about this special place and the trout fishing there.