You Gotta have Faith

“Eighty percent of success is showing up” –Woody Allen

“It’s the brightest fly I’ve ever tossed. It’s orange and pink. It’s like a flame. A three inch flame. I’m a flame thrower. Even the icy, glacier fed big river I’m on can’t extinguish it. It continues to burn bright as I direct it to swing repetitively and methodically through each run that I fish. Occasionally a Seal surfaces and eyes me. It reminds me that saltwater is not far off. I’m a mere 30 miles from the pacific coast”– Bob

the flame

I arrived at the big river the last week of March and fished into the second week of April. When I got here snow was still in the river valley; deep in shaded areas and more sparse where the sun could get to it. The high peaks fringing both sides of the river valley had unbelievable snow pack. More than I’ve ever witnessed in any mountain range. Also the whitest. The moisture from the nearby ocean fuels a lot of precipitation: rain when warm and if cold enough snow, especially at elevation. Temperature the first week was often slightly sub-zero in the morning. On a few days it was iced-up rod guides until noon, especially if there was a breeze. Afternoons were usually above zero, in the 4 to 10c range. The big river was low and clear, and open; no ice cover. That was important and why I made the two day journey here as my intention was to explore it on foot: walk/wading.

the big river

I was here to fish the brief late winter, early spring Steelhead run. I had read the run was not as prolific as the famous late Summer, Fall one but that what it lacked in the number of fish returning it often made up in the size; the quality of the fish. I had also read that the fish came in and “did their thing” and then quickly returned to the ocean. Most don’t take up residence. They are on the move and simply resting on occasion. My job was to try an intercept one along their travel path while they were on their quick journey up river and then back to the salt. Unlike the Fall run, no Salmon accompany them.

steelhead that had wintered in river

Finding foot access to the big river was not easy. It was the most challenging part of the trip. I had read that before coming here and it was true. Satellite shots were helpful but not always. Most anglers access the river’s many runs and prime spots via power boats. I found the local fly shop not all that helpful regarding information on river access even though I frequented it often, bought a lot of flies, leader material and sink tips. Finding car pull-overs (parking) was challenging, especially the first week as high plowed snow banks went to the edge of most roads. There were the ever present transport and logging trucks on my tail and I had to avoid several avalanche zones. When hiking to the river often there was thick riverside brush and dense willow growth to cope with; sometimes knee to hip deep snow; there were many huge impenetrable log jams; there were multiple side channels to traverse to get to main runs and some too deep to cross; there were huge islands to circumvent; and a myriad of other adversities to figure out as it was my first time to the region. I’d often spot good casting water from a distance, trek towards it but simply could not get to it. I spent a lot of time looking for access and good water to swing a fly on. Eventually I found several angling spots that I coveted and could rotate through during an angling week always hoping a fish would show-up; be present on one of them. A few were relatively easy access and nice to have when I wanted a light day. Most of the time I made my way to and hung-out on huge freestone/sand shoals/bars or the side of an island that had open terrain and an impressive long run. It was nice to spend a day at these locations. There was no back-casting limitations. I could overhand “beach cast” my two-handed rod.

Days on the big river passed quickly. Casting the two-hander repetitively became somewhat meditative. With time I started to wonder if there were any fish in the river. I had to remind myself that there were; some were out there; just “stick with it’. Sometimes I had to pep talk myself into making that “one more cast”. Then on my seventh day my line tightened up on something that was not a rock or a stick. It was alive and powerful. You gotta have faith…

.

sea run silver

cold day

warming up after long day riverside

diy equipment

morning calm

home on the road

Redfish Flies

Redfish flies. There are hundreds of shrimp, crab, and baitfish patterns out there. Not unlike the immense number and variety of trout flies. They come in all sizes, shapes and colors. There are many regional differences and preferences. There are different patterns for murky water vs clear. Fly design can also vary based on the type of bottom the Redfish are feeding on such as Oyster beds; thick dense grass; sparse shoal grass; mud; pothole areas; sand. And there are different head weights depending on the depth an angler will be fishing. Some patterns have rubber legs to create action, some realistic eyes, and so on…

On past trips to a Redfish destination I copied some of the fly patterns used in the region I was visiting. On my most recent trip, I had patterns that I have had some success with and confidence in.

fly tying fur

Redfish generally aren’t know to be picky eaters… that is until they are. I’ve had many follow my moving fly until I had no more fly line to strip and was down to my leader. I’m sure clear water feeding fish are harder to dupe than fish in cloudy, muddy water; same with calm vs choppy water; light conditions can be a factor such as the quality of the light (brightness) or the angle of the Sun’s rays; food presence or lack of can influence their feeding behavior; as does Tide phase and water temperature, which can change quickly in the ultra shallow bay that I fish; competition from other Redfish (those searching and feeding in schools vs solitary fish) influence feeding; as well as innumerable other factors that I’m simply not aware of. It’s all part of Nature’s mystery. And it’s the mystery that keeps you coming back.

On rare calm mornings in the super transparent shallows slow moving Redfish and stationary feeders (head down) often wouldn’t eat my larger flies or bulky ones. Small and sparse flies seemed best along with soft landings and careful wading. Some of those fish seemed focused on small crabs.

walking back from the bay

When I had to deal with high wind on the flats (most days) I found patterns tied with silly legs often got fouled on the hook. On those days I clipped the legs off. Shrimp eyes that I made with melted monofilament and that protruded slightly from the shrimp body and hook bend, often picked up shoal grass filaments/ blades dislodged from the shallows by fierce wind even though most flies that I tied had preventative weed guards. So I nipped the eyes off too. A fly with a weed strand (s) hitch-hiking on it was always rejected.

So as the trip progressed I kept my tied shrimp patterns simple. Most of the fish I caught were on two similar flies (see photo): Both had a body of EP fibers, color tan, which in the water look translucent as advertised by the product maker ( EP: Enrico Puglisi Flies); a few strands of crystal flash were added; some Sharpie drawn bars on the side of the EP body; at the head of the fly behind the hook eye I dubbed in some golden retriever hair (endless supply from Harper) to match the EP body; then some light weight as I was fishing knee to thigh deep water such as small or medium bead chain, sometimes a large size in wind ruffled water. On a couple of flies I wrapped some hackle at the head (Seaducer style) of the fly to try and soften the landing in the shallows. I don’t know if it really made a difference but I caught some of my best Reds on it. Both are very easy, quick ties. Just what you want when you are on the road/ travelling.

welcomed calm, morning

Reds on the Sand

REDFISH, AKA: Red Drum, Spot-Tail, Reds.

I HIKE THE SAND DUNES TOWARDS THE BAY IN THE MORNINGS with a fly rod, fly box, some leader material, nippers and a knapsack with lunch and water for the day, and most importantly optimism. My equipment is basic. It’s pretty much the same as when I fish for trout except the rod I’m using is slightly heavier, a saltwater 7 weight. I’m on a barrier island along the Gulf of Mexico. I’m here searching for Redfish on the clear sandy saltwater flats on the bayside of the island. I’m fishing on foot in knee deep water. It’s my 6th trip to the region.

used a kayak (home base) on occasion while wading

It’s Winter Solstice time and daylight is brief. The sun arcs low, close to the horizon. With the short days angling time and opportunity pass quickly. Most days are warm but conditions are often variable. With the short-lived days and fickle maritime weather it can make sight-fishing challenging, especially when it gets cloudy and windy. The worst is when a big blow from the north blasts through.

my foot path to horizon

The best time to spot a Redfish on the sand flats is when the light is good and when there is a significant tide. Moving water, in or out, always seems good. With it Sheepshead, Sea Trout and baitfish like Mullet, Lady fish and small Silverside minnows show up. And Redfish often tag along. That’s when the sand flats come alive. That’s when pelicans and other bird life begin working the water. That’s when you see Mullet jumping. That’s when you see schools of Ladyfish pushing water, their sides reflecting the sunlight on those rare perfect days. That’s when the bay is full of activity and energy. That’s when you want to be out there wading the knee deep water, hopefully standing right in the middle of it all. Stand still long enough and you end up becoming part of it, and with the sun fully illuminating the shallows you can see everything. It’s like looking into an aquarium and just as mesmerizing. That’s when you have your best chance to spot a good one.

redfish

When Redfish do make an appearance they are usually on the move. When they prowl the shallows they are always alert; always hypervigilant. Spot one and you’ve got to be quick and fairly accurate with your cast. You’ve just seconds to react. And you rarely get a second chance with the same fish on the flats. Make a casting mistake and it is gone. If it sees you it’s Adios!

As quickly as fish come in on the sand flats they can disappear. Sometimes they don’t show-up but that’s rare. There are usually a few that pass through at some point in the day. It’s a big bay that I’m fishing and fish move around and there are no guarantees that they will visit the area that I choose to wade. Successful sight-fishing here is a commitment. It’s always a challenge. You have to put in your time and stay focused and alert when searching. Concentration is essential. Spotting fish in a variety of conditions is a skill. Like anything, you get better at it the more you do it. You have to believe the Reds are out there and that at some point they will come in to feed on the crustaceans and small baitfish that inhabit the sand flats. I know that if keep showing-up, I will cross paths…

photo by r dewey

hiking to the bay

sea (speckled) trout

early morning high humidity

wind foam

challenging sight fishing conditions

wind foam blocking my search

fly box

rare perfect sight-fishing morning

harper

Postscript

Photographing fish alone with my phone (in a plastic waterproof sleeve, high humidity) while standing in water several hundred yards out in a windy bay is always challenging and with many images the clarity is not always the best.

All Redfish landed were released.

Road trip: Bwo’s, Blue Jays and Bat flips

“The Blue Jays won the bat flip contest hands down. Some of the best ones I’ve seen since Jose Bautista was at the plate. They showed-up, stood tall, faced the payroll Goliaths of the league and slugged it out inning by inning…best attitude, team spirit, comradery and most enthusiastic, loud and appreciative fans…all players winners in my mind…the most entertaining team I’ve seen in a long time “. — Bob

Road trip. Fishing, not Baseball. Last one for the trout season. It’s been sunny and blowing for weeks along the eastern slopes. The two conditions often go together in Autumn. The upcoming weather prediction was for 2 or 3 days of calm and overcast skies. A perfect set-up for a late season Blue Winged Olive (BWO) hatch. So I decided to take advantage of the incoming low front and drove due south in full sun and high wind, and woke up next morning under a heavy sky and best of all calm.

The riverside campground where I stayed in mid-canyon was empty. Harper was left off leash as there was no one around to bother. She chased squirrels and some deer, and nosed the fire pits. Fortunately no skunks showed up when it got dark. Most mornings it was 32f or slightly above. In the afternoon it was 40s or low 50s f. There were a few anglers around and some floaters. The fly shops were open but quiet. A great time to look at angling stuff. Local restaurants were closed.

The night is long at this time of year and daylight short, and dry fly opportunities brief. One or two hours in the afternoon, maybe slightly more, depending on the intensity of the hatch. My first day I experienced a weak hatch. The second day it drizzled a bit, was colder and the sky ominous looking. The hatch was strong. The river section I was on came alive, and I connected with size 18 and 20 parachute BWO dries. Rising trout on November 4th. It was a good day. So good I flipped my fly rod in the air.

Some images…

Visible flies

” Black: the absence of light; the absorption of light”.

The clouds rolled in. Just for one day. So I took advantage of it as the dry fly season is winding down in my region. Soon local Brown trout will be on redds. Maybe some already are. With the overcast sky I was hoping some trout could be found rising to Olive and Mahogany mayflies. There were quite a few bugs on the water in the afternoon but unfortunately it was windy. I didn’t see a lot of fish surfacing but did find one decent one feeding just off of the edge of a current line. It ate a size 18 Olive tied with a black wing. The black wing allowed me to see the small fly from some distance even in the low light, high glare conditions. I was able to get the tiny impression on target.

When fishing wide open places I tie at least one third of my small dries/emergers with a black wing or post. I can’t fish what I can’t see. Flies that become invisible once casted are useless. When tying dry flies for rivers that tend to produce a lot of small bugs I pay attention to size, color, attitude (how it sits) in the water but just as importantly, or more so, visibility. I need to see where the fly lands to know if my cast is accurate; I need to see it tracking (drift) to the fish; and I need to see the trout’s response if I’m going to fish effectively. Put simply, I need to see it…

When I glance over various online fly tying forums I see many exquisitely crafted fly patterns (beyond my skill level) but many would be hard or impossible to see on a lot of the rivers that I fish. Maybe these tyers fish a lot of small water with streamside foliage and shadows that darken the water and therefore their dry fly patterns, even small ones, contrast well and show-up. A lot of the tailwater rivers I fish are not like that. They are broad and flow in wide open terrain and their hatches are generally small mayflies and caddis. And the dry fly fishing is usually best on overcast days which often means a grey, silvery surface and eye straining glare. That’s when a black wing or post can be helpful.

Surprisingly it’s hard to find fly shops even in big broad river destinations that have small fly patterns in their bins with black wings or posts. Most have some High Vis patterns in fluorescent colors but my eyes simply don’t pick them up as well in extreme glare as solid black.

Here’s an Autumn colored Brown trout that I caught on a size 18 Olive pattern with a black polypropylene wing.

This is where…

This is where I covered many miles of river the other day. Mostly along its bouldery edge. Walking on round rocks all day is an art. I usually take shortcuts between river pools on the softer ground through the Cottonwood forests, meadows and brush in the river valley in order to get a break from the boulders. However, I didn’t this time as it’s wild berry season. There’s a bumper crop of Saskatoons this year. And bears love to feast on them.

The pools on this river are far apart and there’s not much fishable water between them, so you have to cover ground. You keep telling yourself “maybe the next distant pool has a good fish in it” and you rock-hop onward. The river holds a few quality trout so that’s the incentive to keep going mile after mile. It’s kind of like fishing New Zealand. There can be great reward for your effort, or sometimes not. That’s the deal.

I spotted a few fish with the sun overhead but mostly “fished the water” (prospected). I tossed a large black foam beetle. I had to twitch it to get the best one of the day to take notice and rise off of the bottom.

Before I know it my water bottle is empty, lunch and snacks are all gone, my shadow lengthens, and Harper, my dog, curls-up and naps riverside. It’s the sign(s) that it’s time to turn around and head back downstream; back to my vehicle.

While walking back I remind myself this is where Dinosaurs once roamed. This has long been the home of the Blackfoot. This is where giant prairie Grizzly bears wandered. This is where Buffalo once lived and travelled freely.

This is where I spent my day…

“It might happen”

” When preparation meets opportunity, luck happens”.

roman with a fine brown trout

Nine days of wandering around rivers. We went east, west and south. We never went north. It’s kind of a gong-show up there anyway. Too many campers, too many camping riverside, too many 4-wheelers, too many anglers, too many casting treble hooks, too many mangled fish, too many… For six of the nine days there were few bugs around; no real hatch. The insect apocalypse theory remained intact. It was mediocre dry fly angling in the beautiful sunny weather. Then the Weather Network and Environment Canada predicted a few days of cooler weather, cloud cover, rain or at least thundershowers. I checked a third source, AccuWeather. It reported the same. All weather sources were aligned and it meant a very strong possibility of daytime low-light conditions with precipitation. I thought, “It might happen”: the chance of a solid daytime hatch and fish up. Trout generally feel safer rising for insects when the dimmer switch has been dialed down.

brown trout

So on the first cloudy day I put on my rain jacket and headed for a river where I felt there was potential; where “It might happen”. I had not been on the one I selected for a month. Around mid-day birds started swooping and darting over the river. It looked like a hatch was developing and then shortly after it exploded. The main insect: Pale Morning Duns (Pmd’s). And the trout responded. They were up everywhere. Boils and bulges at the head of pools and sipping fish eating duns in the mid and lower pool sections. I got lucky. I got more than lucky as the event lasted for 3 or 4 hours.

rainbow trout

On the next cloudy day I returned with a friend, Roman. It was cooler and wetter. There was also thunder and some lightning. We got there just before noon. We waited and waited. There were showers all afternoon. We walked from pool to pool in order to stay warm. I wondered if it was ever going to occur. An old Yiddish adage came to mind, “Man plans, and God Laughs”. Then at around 3-3:30 pm, three hours after our arrival, the birds started working the river, Pmd’s began to emerge and fish started to rise. Big guys and gals. A repeat performance. Just delayed and briefer probably because of the cooler weather. The fish continued to surface even when the sun occasionally broke through late day. The brown trout glowed golden in the late afternoon light. After being wet all afternoon we appreciated the sun’s warmth. Then when the river became fully illuminated by the sun, it all stopped. The trout disappeared: “Now you see me now you don’t”. Like magic.

photo by roman

fast water carry, photo by roman

If you fish a lot you know it doesn’t always happen this way. Some rivers are easier to predict than others but in the end when dealing with Nature there are many uncertainties; many unknowns. Sometimes everything seems perfect but you don’t get a solid hatch, you just get wet…but that’s all part of it.

rainbow

harper, photo roman

So, “It might happen” ended up “happening” and we caught and released some wonderful trout on size 16, 18 Pale Mornining Duns…here are a few images…

pmd flies

some color

transition time

Sliding into Autumn. Pale Duns have had their day. Blue Winged Olives are just starting. A few Mahogany may flies around too. The dry-fly angling has been challenging during the transition. Visited four very different rivers over the past few weekends. It was hard to find rising fish. Had to walked a lot and search. Not easy. Not many opportunities. Caught a few nice ones. Missed a couple. Time spent roaming around beautiful SW Alberta in search of trout is always enriching…

horse1

abbyclif

Underdog without cape

cutbowwater

cuttbow, I believe

cliffpiles (1)

cuttbownet

same thick cuttbow caught on size 16 mahogany

leavewaterton

upstream

mtsdist

topbow

great rainbow

DSCN5398

trout spotting

flies

size 18 flies

bridge

cliffpiles (2)

same rainbow, on size 18 hacklestacker bwo