Swinging Flies to Jingle Bells

The Winter Solstice is just around the corner and I’m still swinging flies and catching trout. I purchased a two-handed switch rod and have been practicing Spey casting the last couple of weekends. It’s going to be my winter project. The casting movement is certainly much easier on the shoulder especially when fishing a big wide open windy river.

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sw alberta brown trout

 

I was hoping to get away to somewhere exotic like Patagonia (check out First Cast Fly Fishing) or NZ this winter for some dry fly angling but I don’t think that I’ll get the time needed for a DIY trip. So, swinging flies it is.

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sw alberta tailwater river

 

All I need is the temperature to be somewhere around zero and it’s quite comfortable out there, even with the sun just barely arcing above the horizon. From noon until 4:30 works well. The fish seem opportunistic then. I keep the menu real simple: a small leech like pattern (black, dark brown or olive) with black rubber legs. Maybe it’s the wiggle; maybe not.

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Three weeks ago some trout were feeding in the riffles and hanging out in shallow drop offs. They were quite active. Lately most have been down deeper. I hauled one up the other day in cold weather and it had mittens on its fins.

no nose

brown trout

 

Since I’m not heading to the southern hemisphere I’ve been researching winter steelhead opportunities. There is an intriguing river ten hours from my home. It’s a bit of a hike but maybe I’ll get a chance to put a big bend in the two-hander. In the meantime I’ll keep practicing my technique.

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rainbow trout

 

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road home to the rockies

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Brown on the Swing

“We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails”.

Dolly Parton

There was a wind warning today. I saw part of my neighbour’s eaves trough tumble down the road. At least I think it was his? I should check mine!

cliff ruble 2

On the eastern slopes of the divide in SW Alberta it’s always windy and if you don’t fish in the wind, well, you’re not going to get out very often. So I decided to go and just deal with it. I’d be casting a streamer and figured if it got real bad I’d just flip the fly and feed line or roll cast a lot. My plan was to fish a section of the river that is braided so I’d could find some protective areas behind islands and gravel bars.

no finger b

late november brown trout

 

lit treees

If there is anything good about the wind around here, it’s generally predictable: easterly. The other good thing is that in the summer time it blows terrestrials (grasshoppers, beetles, etc.) into the water. None of that today as we have transitioned to winter.

blur trees

nohand bow

rainbow trout

 

I thought that if things became unbearable out there I would pretend I had travelled a long, long way to the Rio Gallegos in southern Patagonia where sea run brown trout and gale force winds rule the river, and you deal with it by tugging down on your Beret and just keep casting! My shoulder still aches. I’m well past the 100 pitch mark in my 9 inning angling career.

glove bow

rainbow trout

 

brookes hill

I caught several Rainbow trout and coincidently, one Brown (not sea run but resident), which was the prize of the day. I was standing on the bank four feet above the water and swung my fly through a fairly shallow side channel with an even flow. As the fly tightened to the bank a brown trout glided out from some wood structure and nabbed it. I saw the whole thing from my elevated position. It made the day. I fished until dusk and then headed home guided by the North Star, or was that the Southern Cross?

clouds

finger brown

sw alberta brown trout

 

 

 

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Betting on the Missouri!

I didn’t know how many days of fly fishing I’d get before the Polar Vortex caught up to me. Maybe one or two? I was heading south and it was on my tail. The weather report said it was big and ominous. From all the TV and Radio chatter it sounded like the thing had teeth and was chomping its way south. I was glad to be ahead of it. I crossed the border at Sunburst with the Sweet Grass Hills to the east. Then it was two hours of mostly flat, featureless terrain with absolutely no trees. The only sign of life and movement was the constant 80km wind blasting the prairie grass, Oil Jacks pumping away in the distance, and some Pronghorn Antelope on the run. Apparently they had also heard about the incoming vortex.

drkwind

A short while later I knew I was nearing Oilmont. I could smell the gas. It always smells of gas there even when the wind is at gale force. Your lungs tell you that what you’re breathing isn’t good for you. From sweet grass to sour gas all in thirty minutes. I speed up, hold my breath and wonder about the health of the locals. That’s if anyone is alive out there. I always think that if I did meet someone from Oilmont he’d look something like Daniel Day Lewis in the movie: There Will be Blood; and he’d be clenching a bowling pin.

glow reel

rainbow trout

 

Past Oilmont I saw more Pronghorn. They are amazing creatures. It seems they can live where nothing else can. They range from Baja and Sonora Mexico where they wear sombreros all the way into southern Alberta and Saskatchewan where they look smart in their white cowboy hats. They really look like they belong in Africa, somewhere out on the Serengeti. I’ve read they can take intense heat and cold, and can survive where there is almost no water. They are the second fastest land animal. Only the Cheetah stands higher on the podium in a sprint. Stretch out the race a bit and the Pronghorn takes gold…speed plus endurance.

storm sky

After a couple of hours crossing the flats it always feels good to arrive in the town of Great Falls. Seeing trees and buildings after the “big void” is always comforting. I’m always flabbergasted by the number of gambling establishments in this town. It seems every corner on the main commercial strip has a couple of VLT joints. They are attached to gas stations, convenience stores and motels. They have names like Cart Wheel casino, casino Emerald City, Lucky Lil’s and Diamond Lil’s. All of the windows in these establishments, if they have windows, are darkly tinted and have neon signs. The whole scene kind of looks secretive and seedy. And it always seems there are a dozen pick-up trucks parked outside at all times of the day; people hunched over the glowing machines from morning until night. You just know a lot of kids in the region are going to school without lunch money.

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grass trout

missouri river rainbow trout

 

On the south side of Great Falls I always stop at a Barnes and Noble (book store). It has big comfortable couches and is a great place to grab a coffee (in-house Starbucks) and a magazine after four and one half hours on the road. I purchased The Drake fly fishing magazine which sold as advertised for “5 bucks (no tax), $10.00 for bait fisherman”. After a quick break it’s just a 30 minute drive to the town of Craig, my angling destination.

blur big back

Missouri river rainbow

 

On this trip, Craig was a ghost town. Everyone had cleared out. Obviously they had heard a polar vortex was coming. Either that or they had migrated west to fish for Steelhead. The local restaurant was closed. Papa’s Burritos was boarded up. There were a couple of anglers walking around and one stray dog but that’s about it. Two of the three fly shops were open, but empty…no customers, well, except me. It’s a gamble fishing here this late in the season. Everything is weather dependent and November can be a dicey month.

nov mo

missouri river rainbow

 

The high wind made dry-fly angling real challenging. There were tumble weeds rolling in the streets and some even rotating in the river. I managed most of my fish on dries and a few on streamers when the wind completely took over. Someone once told me that, “The wind around here has issues”. How true.

tumbclose (1)

tumble weed

 

tumbclose (2)

tumble weed

 

There were some midges in the morning and tiny olives in the afternoon. There were no large olives this year. I spent most of my time hunting for calm water. I generally had to focus on a 2 or 3 foot wide section of placid water that often existed next to the shoreline/bank. That’s where fish could be spotted rising when there was a bit of a hatch. The rest of the river was often just too choppy. Every once in a while things would calm down and the river briefly became mirror-like and some fish would rise further out. These moments, however, were rare and fleeting. Angling time was also fleeting. Not much daylight at this time of year.

grasshalf

I fooled my best fish, a brown trout, and the only one of the trip, on a beetle. Success on a terrestrial pattern in the second week of November! Unfortunately I didn’t get a picture of the brown. As I was getting set up to “click, click” he bolted to deep water. He was a good one: fall colors and a hooked jaw. The fish of the trip. I did manage some nice rainbows, many of them sippers. If there are some bugs around and you make a commitment to patiently watch the water in the right spots, you’ll find trout rising on the Missouri. Unlike Lil’s it’s a sure bet.

snowdeck

cold front arrived

 

I got two days in before the polar vortex (cold air) hit. The morning after it was calm and I fished for a few hours and managed to catch a trout in sub-zero (C) weather on a midge dry. Then it was time to head home on the icy roads.

snow calm (1)

side channel

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

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”.

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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

 

 

Places and Landscape

pano

In the About page of my blog I describe how I’m drawn to the rivers in the parched, windswept land of the high plains on the eastern side of the continental divide. Here are some pictures of the landscape I find so captivating, and where I often find myself hiking and sight fishing for wild trout with dries. The “catching” is always important but it is also about the sky, the serpentine water, the light and shadows, the wind, and the texture of the land. Places have an impact on us. Some places more than others. When you find a place that keeps calling you, you should go there. You go and spend the day, a complete day, where you get to watch the sun travel from one shoulder of the earth to the other. And you breathe it all in and it changes you. Maybe just a little. Maybe just temporarily. But it does change you. And at the end of the day when you retrace your steps home and slowly awaken from the spell of the place, you find yourself saying, “I want to go back”.

wide hay bales

tree coulee

Canyon Sept 21

silos

st m rd

sky

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silos