“For as long as I can remember, my nickname was Dusty. I remember my Dad naming me that because of the streets where we lived”.
I PURCHASED a neglected old Miners home in SW Alberta 17 years ago. I’ve been working on it since. It’s tiny and really just a cottage. The best thing about it is that it is in the the heart of Trout Country: right near the Crowsnest river and many other spectacular flows. You would have a hard time finding a better fly fishing location anywhere in North America. Winters can be brutal (that’s Canada) but most summers are picture perfect on the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. The rivers are clear, insects often hatch and trout rise, and there is a great fly shop (Crowsnest Angler) just down the street. For years I’ve wanted to name my home and have a sign made. Time flies! Seventeen years later here it is. The cottage is small, it’s a faded blue color and has a lot of green foliage around it in the summertime. I named it after a hatch on my local river…the “Blue Winged Olive Cottage”.
“You can’t force or push around Nature. It just does what it does”
Rivers high but manageable. No Blue Winged Olives. I’m surprised because everything lately looks just right for a good hatch. A few Skwala stones around. Only a few. They are pretty big. Maybe size 12. Easy to spot on flat water. The dark body contrasting well on a grey smooth river surface on a cloudy day. I watched a few drift through the shallows. Most remained untouched. Then a rise. Cast. The impression disappeared. It has been a tough spring. Few dry fly connections…but here’s one.
“And we don’t even know how much we don’t know.”
Annie Proulx, Barkskins
I was on the Crowsnest river this past weekend. Sunday was a rare nice day and warm. It felt like Spring! Some Midges were out in the afternoon, however, no fish were up on the section I was on. I even saw a couple of Blue Winged Olives at about 4pm. Just a few but promising. With no rises I started focusing on the river bottom instead of the surface. It’s a completely different type of looking. Through the river glare I eventually spotted a few dark shadows creeping along the bottom mid-pool. They would travel upstream six feet or so then drop back a bit, and then repeating the cycle. They were active. They were feeding. I managed one on a size 18 PT nymph with a cassette tape wing case and a small black beadhead. A dull fly; no shine to it. I landed a classic Crowsnest river rainbow. No hook marks. It was nice to be out sitting riverside in the sun. Nice to sight-fishing again. A new season.
Abby watching geese on the river. That’s focus…
Duck prints on river ice…