Under a Covered Bridge

I had to go back East for a few weeks. Yes, had to. Montreal. Every time I return I hope I’ll have a bit of time to myself but that never happens. The week(s) are always hectic and if I get an hour or two on one morning or evening to wander around, I’m lucky. Time there simply blows by and before I know it I’m in Dorval at the airport boarding my flight back West, and wondering where it all went.

When I do get a spare moment I simply want to re-visit the countryside southwest of Montreal, where I grew up. I like driving the narrow back roads fringed with corn fields. There are also large stands of Maples around where you can search for the remnants of an old sugar shack, or as they say around here a “Cabane a Sucre’. Sometimes I drive a ridge along the border between Quebec and New York State and simply take in all the apple orchards; row after row of carefully pruned trees. Rural Quebec is really quite beautiful. For those of you south of the border think New England but with a Québécois twist and signage, and rougher roads; much rougher…check the ditches for hub caps.

This trip I got up real early one morning and drove south through the Chateauguay Valley to a covered bridge which crosses a classic stream. I didn’t have a lot of time…which I guess is a running theme in this post…so I quickly breathed it all in, got back in my car and left in order to get back on time. The brief stop spawned many memories. It’s where I started fly fishing for trout. That was a long time ago. I remember seeing anglers with creels hanging from their shoulders, many smoking pipes. The smell of Amphora tobacco still makes me feel all is right with the world.

I use to pedal my heavy indestructible one speed CCM bicycle to the bridge from my home, a half day journey, and camp in a field that was leased or owned by Boy Scouts Canada. I’d fish for a day or two and then cycle back home. When I got a little older I’d hitch-hike there, cover the water with a big dry, then thumb back. I took a couple of pictures of the bridge on this trip but haven’t figured out how to download them from my phone. Technology, yikes! Here’s a couple of photos I found (stole) on the internet. I didn’t even give the photographers credit. Ok, call La Police!

percy bridge, quebec

percy water (2)

 

I flew back to Alberta on a Saturday and although tired decided on Sunday to fish one of my favorite rivers. It would be my last chance this season. I didn’t do well. My head hadn’t caught up to where my body was. It wasn’t jet lag but more like mind lag. It had been an emotional visit.

bridge coffee

photo by B L Garnier

It was calm out and there were a few bugs around (tiny olives and midges) but for the most part the fish laid low. Late in the afternoon I managed to find a few good rising trout where insects were collecting. It pays to know a river. I shared the spot with a lone sheep…but he wasn’t in waders. He seemed stranded at water’s edge with an eight foot high bank looming above him. He hadn’t found an escape route even though there was one upstream. He just sat there looking kind of lost and defeated. I tried to “shoo” him in the right direction and he got up and moved well but missed the exit sign.

sheep on bank

sheep

When I left the river I made it a point to stop at the Hutterite Colony where I spoke to a child who was pretending to drive a large tractor. He turned his machine off with his imaginary keys and then pointed to the “Sheepman” who was sitting in an aged pick-up truck thirty feet away with another fellow. I informed the Sheepman about the stranded animal. He said, “We know about him…he’s one of the stupid ones”. I grimaced and explained that the sheep looked distressed being alone and in unfamiliar territory. He looked at me for a second or two with a poker-face, slowly put his truck in gear and as he drove off said, ” Thanks”.

calm

a rare calm day

Anyway, I did manage one nice fish on a dry-fly. It made my day just like it did forty-five years ago while standing under a covered bridge.

good angle

rainbow trout on dry fly

 

P.S.  Sheep aren’t stupid…they’re just sheep.

 

 

 

Hope That Dog Doesn’t Bark Tonight

“The dogs with the loudest bark are the ones that are most afraid”.

Norman Reedus

 

canyon

“Wow, the river is higher than I expected! Maybe up a foot or two. I knew it was up but I didn’t think it would look like this. I don’t see any bugs. Usually there are some around at this time of day. Maybe the bigger flow squelched the morning hatch. Sudden changes aren’t usually good, especially when it’s extra water being released. I’ll take consistency any day. I’ll always take low and clear. Then you can tease them up even if there are no bugs around. Spotting trout is going to be challenging. They could all be down bottom feeding. I’ll have to cover a lot of ground just to locate one good fish. I’m not into walking a lot. I didn’t sleep much last night. I’m bushed. Dam neighbour’s dog barked from 2:30 to 6:00 am, and then my alarm went off.  If that happens again tonight, I’ll call the Municipality. I’ll make a complaint. They get a dog and then tie it up in the backyard and ignore it. They don’t walk it. They don’t pay attention to it. They put it out back and tie it up. I don’t get it. It just sits there all day. It barks at anything and everything. It just needs some attention and care. It needs a walk, or a run. That’s all it needs. Ok, there’s a fish. He’s a good one; a big back on him. He’s moving around. Where did he go? Ok, there he’s over there. It’s the same guy. He’s really moving around. I better get something out in front of him fast before he moves off to deeper water; before he disappears on me. I need to get a fly in front of him. With these conditions I might not see another one all day. This is my shot. Man, I’m tired. My heart’s racing. I hope that dog doesn’t bark tonight”.

 

Some landscape and trout pictures from past two weekends walking the coulees…

 

convoy

rush hour traffic to river, prairie style

bigb2 (2)

rainbow trout on dry fly

bent

big trout can bend hooks

 

left cliff

bigb2 (1)

cows back

005

rainbow trout on dry fly

flat

rd home

road home

 

 

Stillness, Prairie Scenes and Trout

“How we spend or days is, of course, how we spend our lives”.

Annie Dillard

 

river shelter (1)

river shelter

 

“Jeez, it looks like I’m not going to have a lot of time to fish this October. I better make the most of the weekends this month: September. The first week is already almost done. It’s done, done, done….done like dinner. The month is going fast. So I better get out there. The forecast is calling for good weather tomorrow and Sunday. Nothing but blue skies! How rare. Not much luck in that department all through the latter part of August. It will be perfect for sight fishing. Perfect for spotting trout, especially when the sun climbs high. Their dark backs will show up in the shallows. If it’s a little breezy I might spot a few good ones moving around. They’ll be looking for what the wind has delivered. They are always easier to see when they prowl. Motion gives them away. You just have to be patient and watch. You use the sun to your advantage and wait and watch. Forget casting. When you feel like tossing something out there just to do something, or because you feel you won’t catch unless your fly is on the water, just say “No”. You have to fish with your eyes, not your arm. Stillness is your best weapon. Forget about all the equipment and technology: the breathable waders, the fast action graphite rod, WF fly line, a long leader and all the rest. That’s all fine and good but stillness is where it’s at. You can’t worry about getting skunked. Worry about that and you start casting everywhere. Then you spook fish. You spook the real good ones. You cast right over fish you should have seen. You even wade right on top of them and see them bolt. I’ve been there. I still go there sometimes when I get impatient. When I’m in a hurry. When it’s not happening for me. It’s not a good place. Stillness is better. I better get out there this weekend. It has already snowed once. Winter is coming. It think it’s coming early this year. It’s knocking at my door. I kind of feel it’s stalking me. Once it hits it will be a long wait until next season. No, I better get out there. I’ll go and spend a day”.

021

walk to river

bob st mary's my pics sept 6, 2014 064

ftbow2 (1)

rainbow on dry fly

rivershot

river in distance

bowonrod

rainbow on dry fly

rd convoy

harvest time on prairies: convoy

rainbow trout on dry

rainbow trout on dry fly

big wind

it’s windy on the eastern slopes, photo r. dewey

 

 

Blur in the Coulee

“It’s down there. Down there somewhere in that coulee. The mother of all trout. A brand new Sage One rod for the first person who spots it. You spot it and I’ll catch it. I’ve got this cricket on my line. A black cricket. Look at those spindly rubber legs. It will be irresistible to the one with the big fins. It will fool him. I know it will fool him. It has fooled me. Come on let’s go way down into the coulee. It’s not as far as it looks. A Sage One. Hear that! A Sage One for the first person who spots him. I’ll flick a cricket at big fins. Well see what he says about that. I’ll flick a cricket with a shiny belly. I just have to get the right drift. It’s all about the right drift. If I get the right drift then all hell will break loose.”

(fiction)

 

sun burst

morning sun burst

mouth

rainbow trout on dry fly

house

blur2

water blur

clouds

flatland

blur

rainbow trout on dry fly

angler

I’ve had my share of difficulty in past weeks keeping the camera lens clear of water beads (splashy fish); thus the blur effect.

 

 

 

 

Clouds of Tricos

blur sky

heavy sky

“Tricos! They’re everywhere! They’re on my raincoat. They’re on my glasses. They’re in my mouth. There are clouds of them undulating along the river. And the fish are up. They’re up all over the place. I have to get out there. This isn’t going to last forever. Nothing does. Things come and go. They come and go. I have to gear up fast. I have to get out there before it goes”.

-robert garnier

 

It has been cool and rainy and the bugs have made an appearance, and so have the fish. I’ve been on the Crowsnest river after work looking for sippers feeding on Baetis and this weekend I got to spend a full day on one of my favorite rivers out on the prairies. I was expecting a good Trico hatch so I got there early. It was full-blown when I arrived and the fish were already pushing the surface chomping on Tricos, the primary may fly, and Baetis (secondary). My heart started racing.

back bow

broad back rainbow

blur bow

post valley (1)

hike down to river

 

tree stand

spent tricos

spent tricos

lessblurbow

rainbow caught on size 20 dry

hatch

trico hatch

There are few Trico rivers in my area. Most of my experience fishing this hatch has been on the Missouri river in Montana and Silver Creek in Idaho. What I witnessed today was comparable and the fish bigger. It always amazes me how single-minded trout can become when they focus on this little may fly. What also amazes me is that you can actually catch, with some luck, a large fish casting such a tiny fly, size 20 or less. What was just as unbelievable is that I fished in solitude. It was just me, clouds of Tricos and rising fish down in the coulee.

Impressive trout feeding on tiny flies often in a foot or less of water. Fly fishing just doesn’t get any more challenging or better.

head on

rainbow caught on size 20 trico

 

 

One Week, Late July

“It’s the Otters. That’s why there are no big fish in the Crowsnest river anymore. Otters don’t belong in western Alberta. They should have never been placed here by the environment people. There’s just little fellers left; just minners. Oh well, I guess a feller still might have a fighting chance if he tied on a Quigley to his line”.

Angler standing in Crowsnest river

 

river art (2)

roadside general store

I just finished a week of trout fishing with a friend. I tried to take full advantage of the opportunity and the long warm days as I won’t have much time off the rest of the summer. The dry-fly fishing was challenging. There was an absence of bugs on some of our local rivers, and a few of my favorite waterways were off-color. It also hasn’t been a good grasshopper season so far. Hopefully that will bloom as August progresses. In spite of the conditions we did manage to connect with some good fish: quality more than quantity. Not a bad deal. Most trout were caught on dries sight fishing; some on streamers. We did a lot of hunting…sometimes that’s the best part.

 

st m

rainbow caught on dry fly in shallow water, by author

bull stand

fernie bull trout, caught by joe f

river art (1)

river sculpture

owl deadon

owls

013

dry fly rainbow, caught joe f.

cutt

mountain cutthroat, caught by joe f. on dry fly

grass banks (2)

tailwater bow, caught by joe f. on streamer

One day when hiking a trail back to our car we passed an old abandoned homestead along the river. Three owls were perched side by side in the top window. One flew away before I got a photo. Then we noticed two deer inside, taking advantage of the shade mid day. When they spotted us they exited the front door as if they were leaving their home. We also saw two giant eagles, osprey and hawks. The river valley was simply alive with life. It was nice to share it with a good friend. I hope you enjoy some of the photos…

bank

watching shallow water bank for feeders

two shacks

 

owl full

owls

crow bow 34

sipping rainbow on dry in one foot of water, author

me crow

rainbow on dry, author

cliff (1)

joe f. below

bull t

amazing fernie bull trout, caught on streamer by joe f.

Browns on Dries

Some scenery and trout caught on dry flies on a windy Sunday afternoon. The river dropped a bit, it was clearer and some brown trout decided to rise.

smooth hills

smooth hills riverside

020

side chan

high water side channel

017

040

windshield shot

014

 

022

blur brown

027

trout spotting cliffs

Crowsnest River Report, July 11, 2014

Trout, like people, have their habits, routines and places they frequent. On one river pool I often fish there is a side that has as rock face, is deep and has a good flow. On the opposite side the bank is low, earthy, lush with vegetation and the water very shallow and slow. I’ve learnt that once a hatch reaches a certain density or magic mark, a couple of large fish leave the safety of the deep pool, glide over to the slow, low side and surface feed just inches off of the bank. I have often sat there when the place seems like a ghost town and said to myself, “Be patient, wait for the bugs and it will happen”. And it usually does. A large nose will pop-up next to the bank and sip a small may fly in less than a foot of water. I’ve come to know this section of the river quite well, at least from a dry-fly angling perspective, and I am always amazed that I can predict such an event. The key is some sort of hatch. I used to spot two sometimes three large trout on this bank once a good hatch was underway. In the last few seasons it is usually just one fish. I’ve noticed the same trend on other slow water stretches that I know well.

004

high water side channel, no risers

I haven’t been able to fish a lot lately but did manage to get on the water two evenings this week. The bug life has been alright, nothing special, but seems to be developing: PMD’s; Drakes; Yellow Sallies; Caddis. I’ve been walking and watching slow water sections where a sizable fish might park and lazily munch away. I must say it hasn’t been easy finding a large surface feeder. Two nights ago I did located one in the pool that I described above. The large trout ate my impression but the fly simply slipped out without much contact, and the fish moved off the bank into deeper water. I waited around but it didn’t return.

I went to the same spot the following evening and waited for a hatch. A weak one did occur quite late and there were just enough PMD’s on the water for a large fish to appear where I spotted one the night before. I’m sure it was the same fish.  As I’ve said, “trout, like people, have their habits, routines and places they frequent”. This time I managed to connect with a size 16 PMD. I don’t think the fish had been hooked this season as it seemed quite surprised by the event and sluggish at first, and then after a thirty seconds or so adrenaline kicked in, or whatever “fight or flight” hormone trout operate on, and it went ballistic. It took me way down stream. I struggled to photograph it due to the awkward location that I had to land it in. There was also a lot of splashing as the fish simply wouldn’t give up. It had “moxie”.

007

crowsnest river, rainbow trout

 

 

 

 

Midges, Baetis and Burritos June 14,15,16,17-2014

“I don’t need an alarm clock. My ideas wake me”.

– Ray Bradbury

34 bwn

brown trout

flat water side

side channel: slow and low

I’m on a side channel of the Missouri river and I hear this fellow talking to someone. It sounds like he’s giving advice and directives, possibly to a kid. I can’t see them due to the willows but it is clear they are heading my way. Then they appear. It’s an angler in his early 40’s and a very young Golden Retriever. Now I get it. He is teaching his dog stream etiquette. I say hello and squat. The golden approaches me and I pet him. I followed it up with a big hug. He’s a real beauty, almost Irish Setter red, and only several months old. Welcoming the attention he leans against me. I press my face next to his and receive a lick on the cheek. Tears come to my eyes. The angler doesn’t notice as I’m wearing sun glasses and a long-billed cap. My retriever passed away in late February at age 16+.

rising fish

rising trout

big bow angle

rainbow trout

The angler is from Helena, Montana. We talk and realise we fish many of the same intimate locations on the big river. Eventually he asks me my favorite dry fly location. I hesitate, look at him and then tell the truth. He says the spot I identified is also his most revered. He then tells me he wrote the name of his last golden retriever, who lived to age 13, on the side of the bridge there. We talk for about ten minutes. We are like “kindred spirits”. The next day I walk to the bridge and find a very faded name: Kinnickinn. I hope I have spelled it right.

my tent

my tent next to 45ft RV

papas

papa’s burgers and burritos

It’s early. I’m at the angler parking area in the town of Craig, Montana. I’ve been camping for three days and last night it was cold and poured for several hours straight. It’s finally cleared and I’m absorbing the morning sun while eating a tasty breakfast burrito from Papa’s Burgers and Burritos, and enjoying a strong coffee. I’m also gearing up for the day ahead: pulling on my waders; sorting flies; tying up a new leader; etc. Trailered drift boats are passing every thirty seconds. It’s like a parade. The place is buzzing with activity. There is this guy sitting on a rock nearby eating a snack and drinking from a pop can. He eventually says to me with a smile, “I guess you are going fishing like everyone else”. I reply, “No, I’m getting ready to go shopping in downtown Helena”. We both laugh. I find out he’s on a canoe trip. Get this, he’s paddling from Twin Bridges Montana to Dallas. Yes, Texas! He’s taking the Missouri to the Mississippi, then eventually to the Red River where he’ll paddle the last leg upstream to Dallas where he lives. It’s a long way and multiply it by seven as all three rivers meander immensely. He’s originally from Boston. I tell him I spent most of my life in Montreal. We talk about the hockey rivalry between the two towns and about Bobby Orr and Guy Lafleur. His vessel is Canadian made: Clipper Canoes from British Columbia. I’m going to follow his incredible river journey. Here’s his web site: canoevoyage.com.

midge dog

local wanting a taste of my breakfast burrito

subsurf bwn

brown trout

sun bwn

brown trout

I just spent three and one half days on the Missouri river. I fished midges and tiny olives (baetis), size 20. Only a couple of fish required a dropper. The last morning there I managed some nice trout in full sun on a small terrestrial pattern. On this trip I tried to focus on brown trout. On the Missouri they are significantly out-numbered by rainbows. It is surprising how challenging it is to differentiate between the two species even in shallow water, especially on those days when light conditions are less than ideal. I did manage more browns than usual as I committed to searching for them, often passing by some large rainbows along the way. Sight fishing with dries in shallow water is always exciting, challenging and intense. It’s all about watching the water and being sneaky. A lot of time was spent staying low, hunched or angling on my knees. And I missed more than I caught. Seeing trout up close react to an imitation is just simply the best. It’s what gets me up at 6 am, no alarm clock required.

thumb bwn (2)

brown trout

cows (1)

Missouri river valley

arc bow

rainbow

busy shop2

busy fly shop

 

 

 

 

The Rattler and the Ditch

Confidence is a fickle thing. Here one day, gone tomorrow. One day a baseball pitcher is “nibbling the corners” and striking everyone out, and the next outing he can’t find home plate. He wonders: “What happened…where did it all go?” Angling confidence can also be fleeting. One day you’re finding fish, casting accurately and landing everything, and the next outing you can’t even spot a minnow in your favorite pool, or as they say in some places out west, a “minner”. This past Friday I was on the Missouri river. The Blue Winged Olives were everywhere. It was a perfect Baetis day, overcast and occasional drizzle, and yet I couldn’t find a riser. The bugs were piling up in “tried and true” locations but the trout were illusive. The only explanation in my mind was the high flow rate. It was double what it was last year. May is generally an outstanding dry fly month on the Missouri.

goose eggs

With the high water I was also cut-off from much of the river. For the angler on foot the options were limited. I was prepared for the tough conditions. The Internet reports said the nymphing was good, the streamer fishing improving and the dry fly angling slow. When interpreting a fishing report “slow” means “poor”. I was prepared for “poor” and high flows and therefore had a back up plan. The next day I got up real early and drove further south to fish a spring creek I had heard about with the strange name, Darlington Ditch! I had read it was small water and very shallow. Shallow seemed a perfect alternative to the big flow I had been on. Maybe I could sight fish!

butterf (1) The Ditch runs parallel to the Madison river. From what I understand a dike or levee was built between the river and the creek to protect the ranching/farming valley from flooding when the Madison (big water) is in full run-off. When the dike was built the creek probably got altered a fair amount and straightened-out. And it stayed that way for many years. I found the Ditch. It was small, clear and looked promising. The morning was still, warm and sunny. I was in the beautiful Madison river valley and decided to walk the creek and sight fish.

mobw (2)

the ditch

At the anglers parking area the Ditch looked like it had recently been renovated: a stream restoration project. I figured I’d walk beyond where the work had been done to where it was more natural looking and untouched. After walking a mile or so I climbed the dike and from my elevated point looked further upstream. To my surprise the restoration work went on and on, and on. It looked like the whole creek had been re-shaped. I had spotted some trout so I decided to fish the creek.

butterf (2)

ditch brown

Before casting I took out a new can of spray sunscreen. I had difficulty twisting the top to the On position. It wouldn’t rotate and during my struggle spray shot out with the force and volume of a garden hose set on Jet. It blasted my left eye. I quickly dunked my face in the creek and open my eyes to flush them and continued doing this all morning. Eventually the burning subsided and I became more confident I wasn’t going to go blind.  I managed several trout on dry flies: browns and rainbows. I caught nothing big but the trout were healthy looking and colorful. I have read that the creek can hold some fairly large fish.

ditch2

the ditch

I wondered how the recent project had affected the trout as clearly a large excavator had done much of the work. The Pools had either been created or dredged and rocks had been placed on outer bends to provide structure. The renovation architects had shaped the creek in ongoing repetitive symmetrical S-curves. I knew some work had been done when I viewed the creek on Google Maps but I didn’t expect it had just happened, probably in the past year. The project had to have been quite intrusive and probably also affected the insect population.

bow2

missouri bow

mobw (1)

missouri brown

I have been on a number of rivers that have had sections restored or mitigated: the lower Crowsnest river in southwest Alberta; I was on Nelson spring creek in Paradise Valley the season after it was altered. Restoration companies understand the science of stream improvement and can make a fishery more productive but in my mind they often miss the mark on the aesthetic or artistic part of stream design. Sometimes their creations seem strikingly artificial (obvious) and repetitive. I would think subtle or small alterations could improve trout habitat just as effectively but they often seem to “Go big”. Maybe they need to consider having an artist on board during the early stages of stream re-design to create something more aesthetic and in tune with the landscape. I’m ok with S-curves as most spring creeks meander. What I have some difficulty with is carbon copy S-curve after S-curve going off into infinity. It seems a bit much. That said, I appreciate the work they did on the Ditch and that they felt there was value in doing it. In a couple of seasons I think the Ditch, once nature takes over and it matures, will be a great place to fish for those who love small stream angling. It will also, in its own way, be beautiful. I’ll definitely go back.

bow1

missouri bow

After a morning on the Ditch I decided to walk the top of the dike back to my car. While strolling along and taking in the surroundings I heard a terrifying sound that went right through me. It was a fusion of hissing, screeching, buzzing and a rattle. Think of the sound the Raptors made in Jurassic Park. I stopped and turned.  There was a five foot rattlesnake staring at me and coiled. I had just walked by it. A foot more to my right and it would have probably struck me. I’ve seen other rattlesnakes in Montana usually while walking train tracks. This was the closest I had come to one.

snake

rattlesnake

I wondered what I would have done if I got bit. Prairie rattlers generally are not lethal unless you are one of the unfortunate ones who react badly to the venom. I’ve survived two scorpion bites in Baja but that is another story. I guess if I was John Wayne I simply would have sucked the venom out of my leg (not advisable), shot the snake and cooked it over an open fire.

Given I was in the middle of nowhere and I’m not John Wayne, I probably would have panicked and driven a break neck speed to the nearest hospital in either Butte or Bozeman… probably Bozeman…better coffee shops. If I made it to the emergency room my skinny body would probably have been transformed into something resembling the Michelin Tire Man with a runny red left eye or one of those characters from the Eddie Murphy movie: the Clumps. Of course, by that time I’d also probably be delirious and singing something like, “Home on the Range”.

The next morning I returned to the Missouri and spent a full day on it. In the afternoon I spotted four good fish rising and connected with them using an emerger pattern. They were selective.

Somehow I got home intact from my adventure. And even though fishing was “slow” I managed some nice trout on dries… “Not a discouraging word was heard…”

side channel

missouri side channel