I finally stopped fishing, looked up and here I was…
Getting back into a fishing groove wasn’t easy after a two-week absence. A lot changed while I was away. There have been river closures in my area: low, hot water. Most are now re-opened. My favorite sight fishing river is still off-limits. The smoke-filled skies have made spotting trout difficult (reflection) and the hatches have changed and are quite sparse, which is not unusual for this time of year. Fall blows (wind) are also underway.
I spent a couple of days on a river (tailwater) I used to fish a lot but haven’t in recent years. It holds some great trout but not a lot of them. When you go there you have to be prepared to get skunked as the river can be quite fickle. It can be a frustrating place, which is why I generally see few anglers there. Often it seems void of trout. However if you “hang in” and put in your time, it can be quite rewarding…sometimes! Rivers like this can be quite special. They’re a challenge. If they were any better or easier, anglers would be all over them. Since they are not easy people tend to go elsewhere. Therefore, on many days you can have the place to yourself.
I saw a couple of young guys fishing it the right way. Their backpack vests suggested they were out for a full day and they were covering a lot of water with their black Lab…working pool after pool.
Most people who fish it seem to cast over one or two pools with a streamer and then go home. They either hit a home run or strike out…the latter usually being the case. In good grasshopper years you can switch from a streamer to this big bug and have some exciting angling. This hasn’t been one of those years even though it has been hot and dry. After run off some fly fishing guides float the river with their clients as there is enough water. Once the water level drops the rafts disappear and angling pressure is minimal as visitors who pay to fish generally don’t want to walk far.
I learned several years ago that this tailwater fishery (bottom release from a dam) can have some good (not great) small fly hatches which can get the attention of some sizeable fish. It was one of the few local waterways I was seeing some bug life on and the occasional riser, so past experience taught me to stick with it.
The river meanders out on the prairies way down in a coulee. From a distance you wouldn’t even know it was there. To fish it you have to walk a lot of steep hilly terrain…it’s all up and down. The holding water (pools) are often a quarter to half mile apart, sometimes further, so you have to cover great distances to improve your odds. I use the elevated areas to locate fish when the lighting is right. Much of the river bottom is covered in a yellow sometimes tan to brownish algae so it is difficult in most places to spot trout hugging the stream bed as they simply blend in. High flow areas polish (clean) the river stones and trout show up better in these locations, so it is always wise to carefully watch these spots. Rainbows with their dark backs and flashing silver sides show up better than the brown trout. The browns, master camouflage artists, just don’t show up.
The trout generally need to be actively feeding on emerging insects (rising to mid levels or near the surface) in order to be seen, or prowling the surface current lines for grasshoppers which blow off the cliffs when they are around.
All the trout I spotted were eating small stuff and being ultra picky. They were focused on emergers and rarely poked their heads through the surface. However, some shallow water feeders were enticed to do so. The trout featured in this post were caught on dry flies. I put in two long days watching the water and was rewarded with a few good fish.
The river is a challenge. It’s a sleeper. It’s a special place.
“Excuse me while I kiss the sky”
-Jimi Hendrix
The room I get to play in on weekends is very, very large and it has a limitless ceiling; and it has rivers flowing through it; and if you search in the four corners you’ll find trout.
I managed to hit a local tailwater river after work the other evening. It is one of the few waterways in my region that has insect life. Some PMD’s were hatching and spinners falling. The river was low so it was perfect for searching for rising trout and trying to spot some good ones.
Most of the larger trout appeared to be on emergers. I fished a pattern that floated but had a dangling body (Klinkhammer style): deer hair wing tied forward for flotation; thorax dubbed a PMD yellow/cream color; rust colored body with gold wire ribbing to add weight so part of the fly broke through surface; an amber/golden shuck for the tail (zelon/antron). I spread some saliva on the body and tail to help it protrude through the meniscus.
The fish were on it. I spotted several nice ones while searching the shallow flats in a foot or less of water, and a few took me into my backing. Trout hooked in skinny water take off like a dragster. Here’s a couple photos of one of the fine trout I caught.
I hit three rivers this weekend. It wasn’t because I was feeling energetic. It was because things were slow due to the intense heat, so I kept searching for productive water. Give yourself enough time and pump enough gas into the tank, and you’ll probably find a spot that is producing. Trout fishing is rarely ever easy: too cold; too hot; too much wind; too much sun; water too high; water too low; water too turbid; too many anglers; not enough bugs; wrong flies; and the beat goes on.
One of the prairie rivers I fish seemed abandoned. It turned big time off. Last weekend was excellent. This weekend was dead. It was a ghost town. The trout apparently left the main floor and headed for the cool of the basement. They must have been deep. I never saw a decent fish. Heck, I never saw a fish! I was so hot my cheese sandwich grilled in my backpack.
So I drove to a nearby tailwater that always runs very cold. It looked promising but… no bugs. The PMD’s didn’t show when I was there. Maybe they were congregating high up in the mountains which is where I should have been. A Cutthroat stream would have made more sense than heading out on the flats where in the shimmering heat I think I spotted a camel near a place called Standoff…or was that a llama? Anyway, it was tall and had a long neck, and my head was hot. On the tailwater I prospected with a big dry fly, walked a mile and caught a few.
Then the next morning I got up early and fished the Crowsnest river which is right by my house. It fished alright…not great but ok. It was the best of the rivers I had been on. I caught a few sippers in a big back flow. Challenging fish that had spectacles on (tinted due to the bright sun). They inspected every fly in great detail. The hatch was in the weak to moderate range. It got under way at 10:30 am but fizzled in an hour or two. The only place I could find surface feeding trout was where bugs were collecting in slow back eddies, etc. No risers were spotted anywhere else such as along banks, in the big pools, along current lines, etc.
The Crowsnest (Crow) river has some of the best looking rainbow trout found anywhere…all fins intact…all wild fish. The Crow is really just a stream but it holds some fine fish for its size. I don’t mind mentioning it as it is so well known. I wrote a little story about it several years ago in an old blog….if interested google: Flyfishing the Crowsnest River, Small Fly Paradise.
Sheep Creek road; North Picabo road; Kimpton bridge road; Spring Coulee road…and the list goes on and on. What they all have in common is they are dirt roads; back roads. Follow them and like the North Star or Southern Cross guide an ancient mariner, they deliver you to rising trout. All are in the middle of Nowhereville and Nowhereville is always a good place to be if you are into trout. Here are some photos taken while casting dries somewhere up Sheep Creek road.
“I once gave up fishing. It was the most terrifying weekend of my life”.
-Anonymous
Skwala! Not many around but enough to get some trout looking up. Bugs are always appreciated as this is a blog about dry fly fishing, and I need them if I’m going to have material; something to write about. I’ve been going out a few evenings after work looking for rising trout and also checking things out on weekends. It has been an early Spring in SW Alberta but my home rivers have been quiet. Usually I’m into surface feeding fish at the beginning of April. We are in the third week and things still aren’t under way in spite of the Crocuses being up; calves spotted streamside; campers running the highways; neighbours aerating their lawns; some midge flies in the air in the evening and even some olives riding the currents in the afternoon. It was the Skwala (a stonefly) that got the attention of a few trout on a local tailwater river this Saturday and I managed to hook several mid-sized fish. Here is a picture of the best one of the bunch.
“Oh, I wish I lived in a caravan! ‘ said Jimmy longingly. ‘ How lovely it must be to live in a house that has wheels and can go down lanes and through towns, and stand still in fields at night!”
– Enid Blyton, Mr Gilliano’s Circus
Some western scenes while driving or walking to some of my favorite trout streams somewhere out in the fields…
Most of the streams I fish flow through arid sun baked terrain. The edges however are often lined with tall grass growth. They shoot skyward with the summer warmth, stream moisture and nutrients. These edges are places of life: waterfowl, insects, eggs, feathers, even the odd golden retriever…
Trout prowl the aquatic side of these edges. I often sit hidden in the grass and watch the water for movement; for trout. If you sit still long enough the flowing water and swaying grass become mesmerizing. Then a soft rise or flash of a feeding trout wakes you up.
Here are some pictures of soothing creekside grass taken along the rivers I fish.