Went to my favorite river real early. Slightly cooler lately. Cool in the mornings. Felt there was opportunity. So I did the long drive. Fog was mixed in with smoke. A large coffee helped me get there. It kept me on watch for roadside deer in the low light. Water temperatures were good in the river flow; marginal in the shallows. Water levels were the lowest I’ve ever seen. A lot of standing water. A lot of mosquitos. The sun came out when I arrived. I figured I’d give it a few hours and then leave and fish another river on the way home. In SW Alberta you always have angling options. A fellow from B.C. arrived right after me. No other anglers were around. He parked his vehicle one pool upstream from me and started fishing it and then worked his way further up. Hmm….
I carefully walked the long pool I was on from the tail to the head. There were some smaller fish at the bottom end rising. I watched them and figured things were going to heat up fast (air and water temperature) so I decided to focus and search for a good one. The light was good for spotting. At the head of the pool, just on the edge of the flow, I saw a good trout. It was moving around (feeding); nosing into the shallows with a decent flow; working its way right to top of the pool with the best flow (oxygenated water and food) and then cycling back. Several times I lost sight of the trout due to its movements from the shallows to deeper water and when moving over darker bottom sections.
The fish ignored a small hopper. Maybe it didn’t see it. A few casts later it took a black beetle. A lot of splashing when I finally landed it. My camera lens got soaked so many blurry pictures but I think it made the fishing net photo even more intriguing. One pool, one fish, a couple of hours and then it was time to go. The fellow from B.C. had left before me.
A bank feeding trout. An impressive one. Spotted last week rising to a sparse hatch of Golden Stoneflies and other insects. It ate my offering then but no hook up. I returned this week to the same location hoping it would be there and watched the water under a heavy smoke filled sky. Hundreds of fires are burning west and south west of here. We need rain. A lot of it.
While stalking the trout a few angling boats drifted by. I protected my spot and pretended to watch the bank downstream of me instead of upstream where the fish had been. River traffic has increased the past few years. Sometimes you have to deceive other anglers while trying to deceive a trout. It’s getting tricky out there. A few days ago a Drone flew over my head.
The trout made an appearance mid day when the river started to liven up. It ignored the smaller insects but broke the surface for the mid-sized and larger ones. This time I made a connection. The large stone fly impression held when the fish went downstream through a series of fast riffles with me and a retriever in pursuit. A long 13 foot knotted leader and a steep embankment made landing it challenging. Seconds before netting it I had to grab my leader mid-way to guide the trout to within reach. It’s an angling move that can often result in a lost fish. I had no other option. I got lucky…
I’ve been waiting for a break in the hot weather. The last few days have been somewhat cooler. Somewhat. So I got up early and made the long drive to my favorite river on the Plains. I’ve been avoiding it due to the intense heat and waiting for an opportunity. When I arrived I checked the temperature in the main flow. It was fairly cold. In the shallows it was passable. A kid was standing mid river smiling and casting frenetically. I saw no rises. He said he had the whole day to fish.
I can’t remember a past season where I used my river thermometer as much as I have been. It seems I’m checking water temperatures several times a day. And I’m watching river levels and flows, the 7 day weather forecast and the 14 day forecast at night on the internet. I feel more like a Weatherman, than an angler. And it’s only July 6th, the start of the summertime angling season. Prime time. The best the year has to offer. I can’t imagine what temperatures are going to be like in mid August. Fires are already burning in British Columbia. Smoke could be on the way as I write.
I walked several pools I know well and carefully watched the water. Nothing. I waited until lunch for a hatch. Nothing. The air temperature started climbing. The river pelicans landed and hunkered down.
I decided to venture to a different stretch of the river and hiked back to my car. The kid was still on the same pool smiling and casting away at the same pace. As before I saw no rises.
At the new location I checked a long straight bank where I missed a great fish late last season. I looked it over from high above. The lighting was good for spotting. The trout was there. It was also rising occasionally to small minuscule, invisible stuff. I dropped down and checked the river temperature once again with my thermometer. It was still good.
The trout refused my first offering, a size 14/16 ant. Absolutely no interest. Then a tried a size 18/16 PMD dry fly with some segmented wire wraps on the slim body to make it sit low (in the water). I think any fly the right size and sitting low would have worked. When I finally got the fly on target the fish ate. Luckily the small fly held and I landed it. A wonderful trout. With that I decided to call it a day.
I looked over the river and thought that with the heat I might not get back to it until mid to late September. I pointed my car towards the mountains and drove home windows open thinking about the kid casting away, about how the tiny hook held on a great trout, and about the river I was just on. My favorite one. It could be the best sight-fishing trout river in North America (that you can drive to) if water (reservoir) management slightly increased the flow throughout the summertime, and if ranchers kept their cattle out of the water. On the Plains ranching and farm irrigation take priority over trout and other things but that’s an old story.
That kid is probably still casting. That kid was me fifty years ago…
The Mother Lagoon. I’ve read STORIES about it for years and have always wanted to visit and fish it. It’s far from my home. 2000 miles away far. What has intrigued me most about the lagoon is it’s extremely shallow and consistently so. And it’s usually clear. It stretches on for miles and is generally only inches to 2 or 3 feet deep. Really, just the slightest of water. I’ve also read that there is one area of the lagoon that has a firm white sand bottom. This allows a fly angler to sight fish on foot.
I’ve read STORIES that you can drive on the nearby beautiful seaside beach and camp on it for free. There aren’t many places like that left. Dogs can also run off leash there. That’s also a rarity. From the beach you can hike over the sand dunes to the lagoon.
It is a coastal region so it can get windy. Clouds and storms can also make it challenging. I’ve read STORIES you can walk and search a lot and often not see any or many fish. Sometimes they are just not in the area that you’ve chosen to explore. Sometimes, however, you do find fish prowling the sand flat for food. Sometimes some good ones. Saltwater ones. Feeding in just inches in water.
Of course STORIES are often just STORIES and being 2000 miles away it is hard to know what is fact, what is magnification and what is fiction. So I contacted someone who spends more days than most on the Mother Lagoon. I described my plan. I hoped they would reply. They graciously did and said: “Your plan is good”. They even offered some angling advice.
Here at home, 2000 miles north of the Laguna, my STORY is that it has been hot. Brutally hot. It was 38c or 100f the other day when I left a local river at 4 pm. I went to two different rivers that day both bottom release flows from reservoirs and therefore fairly cold. I fished in shorts, drank close to 2.5 liters of water, waded a lot to stay cool and found some fish rising. Here are a few nice trout taken in full sun on a size 16 Pale Morning Dun dry fly, CDC wing; and another on a Klinkhammer style tie with trailing shuck (see photo).
Ankle deep water… that’s where I have been angling the last several years. That’s where I search for fish. It’s in the thin water, the skinny water, the almost nothing water. Just a foot or so deep, sometimes just inches. Catching them in the clear nothing is never easy. In the shallows absolutely nothing goes unnoticed. Angling mistakes get magnified. Your mantra: Stay low, go slow. Sunlight helps you search the shallows for that elusive shadow that is gliding in from the deep to feed.
The shallower the better. The closer the better. The more visual the better. The more challenging the better.
Here’s a fine brown trout caught in the shallows on a simple (flat) black ant pattern (size 16) I tie. Local rivers have dropped and most are clear. Trout are starting to look up and take dries…
Doves were behind me in amongst the riverside willows and cottonwoods. Cooing while foraging the river valley floor. I never saw them. I never looked for them. I just listened while watching the water for trout. Their distinctive sound gave them away. Unmistakable. A mourning sound some say. A soothing sound I say.
It was the first real calm after days of howling wind. And with the stillness; with the low ceiling and low light; with the threat of drizzle; and with the sound of Doves, there was the possibility of rising trout. Maybe even a good one.
Springtime in SW Alberta: Sunny and 25c one day; 0c and snow the next. It’s transition time. Caught a few on small dry flies on my local tailwater river. No fish photos this outing. Midges around, a few Olives and fewer Skwala stoneflies. I watched a shallow flat for the occasional surface disturbance. Some promise. Hopefully, we are on the verge of some consistent top water action before run-off occurs and shuts it down for a month or two.