Top 15 Moments Canadian 2012 - #2 - Hello Mary Lou

I had a couple of great ladies join me. The hope was to do some sight-fishing and enjoy the afternoon fly fishing. Prior to the trip, they'd had a chance to buy and view our Sight-Fishing Trout Rivers DVD and wanted to join me in seeing how we go about it.

We walked the banks of a central Alberta brown trout stream. It was a sunny day and the water wasn't crystal clear but only had a stain in it. The conditions were tough for any insect hatches but very good for sighting.

The day was consistent. Nothing of any great shakes happened for much of the day. We spotted some neat fish and I was able to show what I was looking at, where, and what key features I was looking for and why I was looking where I was looking. It was a lot of fun and they were really nice gals.

Towards the end of the day, having had a few hook ups, some sighting, and a lot of fun, we came around a bend of stream to find a fish popping along the bank 40 yards up. It was neat to see. It was also a decent brown for the stream.

Mary Lou was up and she was in the water, wading toward the riser. We stayed up on the bank, watching the brown rise at the pmds drifting sporadically past its lie under a bankside stick. It was just subsurface and we could see its full body swaying left and right, down, then out. It had quite a feeding window and was willing to move quite a distance. Mary Lou was blind for the glare on the water at her position, save for the rises, which actually didn't help all that much because after the rise, the fish would be 3 feet left or right of the ring. We could see everything from the bank, but could only use the bank, the middle, or a rise ring as a reference point to her as to where to cast. It was a bit of a 3-ring Circus just trying to establish communication at times, the fish was very active. One thing was very clear, while she was focused on making the best cast, the fish was so active that any cast would get its attention, so we made sure that any cast within 10 feet (it could move that far in a couple of seconds as she was false-casting) wasn't dismissed and given full attentiveness for line control and anticipation. After one more rise, the brown took back to the bank. Mary Lou shot her line and the fish rose slightly out from the bank as the line laid out. From the bank, we saw the fish slide back right, she was anticipating it coming left. That didn't happen but when her flies landed, the trout literally turned 45 degrees downstream, charging 15 feet to take her dry. Her friend saw the full event - the fish turn out and up, charging. "Here it comes!" And sure-as, the head broke surface and took. Awesome. The event is always amazing when showing it to people for the first time, and these two had an incredible moment. Sharing it was amazing. A lot of fun, positive emotion comes from an engaged moment like that. A little New Zealand fly fishing here at home. And what better gals to share it with. :)

Top 15 Canadian Moments 2012 - #7 - I can see you!

Brian has been a great guest through the years. We've done a lot of different fishing trips and most have gone as planned. I recall only one trip that was blown out back in 2001, but otherwise we've made a go and usually a great go of things.
He booked 4 days together this fall and things went better than they ever have. Honestly, it was as though we were fishing in New Zealand. The sight-fishing was unbelievably good. When the world lines up all roses and puppy dogs, you enjoy it.
As walked up the stream late September, I noticed one redd with 5 or 6 browns on it. Bugga. I instantly feared the recent cold snap had kicked spawning into gear. I began to consider back up plans - this would either be a spawning viewing day or we'd move waters - unless it was a one off red. But, that location has always been known to be the first, so we continued. Obviously, we left those trout alone. As we moved upstream the browns were actively feeding and that one redd at the start was a one-off. As it turned out the spawning didn't kick in until the next cold snap a couple weeks on.
But the fish were on that day. Active. Feeding. Very few were solely focused on the pre-spawn antics browns go through - the antics that take them from feeding and see them chasing each other, nipping, false digging... anything but feeding and it gets somewhat pointless to fish even though they aren't actively spawning. There's a cross-over time and we hadn't gotten to it as yet that day. Perfect!
The day was bright and sunny. The water was low and clear. The fish seemed to all be up, surfing, holding beside the structure. It was quite consistent, to put it mildly.
Brian had an incredible day, but not the least of which was a nice male that held in a treed reach of this stream. It held under and over hanging spruce (common theme in these blog posts!). The bad news was that there were a couple smaller browns surfing just below this one - they were feeding and doing so aggressively. Anything in the area would surely be eaten by the tiny tykes. It was like looking at a one-way aquarium of feeding fish from 10 feet back. I can see you!
Then something happened. The small fish got too close to the big one and it turned and put on the chase. The small fish scurried away and the big fish returned to its lie.
Two things were instantly obvious: if we waited maybe that would happen again... and the fish is willing to travel.
Sure enough we missed that unexpected window of opportunity. Brian was mostly blind on his side of things, the reflection killing low angled sighting. But I could see plain-as. We waited a touch longer and the smaller fish cycled back up. Again, the big fish gave chase.
We'd pre-ordained our moves. I would let him know when the fish was moving out and he would cast out from the spruce in hopes that it would take on its way back home.
The fish gave chase "There he goes, give it a go!" and Brian made his cast. But the fish didn't go to the fish. Instead, it turned and went to the bank. As soon as the flies landed, however, its lateral line picked up the plop 6 feet away... and swung rapidly to inspect the flies. "Here he comes!" I beamed. The fish sucked in the fly as Brian stuck it. Awesome!

Top 15 Canadian Moments 2012 - #9 - Into the Dark

At #9...
When you have finite time to fish, you tend to think when & where based on the weather & water conditions. Some days are so good or so bad you can't decide (there again, if things are that poor, there's sometimes better things to do - like edit video, pictures, or type an article). But, you play the best-guessing game and have a go at your selected water.
When fishing brown trout, the daytime isn't always the best. Some folks swear that evening or dawn is best. I don't agree with that as a carte-blanche, but at the peak of summer or on a bright, hot, still, sticky day things can get slow for bug hatches and browns tend to get shy here in Alberta, lest you sight-fish, then that's perfect opportunity! So, at times, when time is short and nothing is likely happening, you pick the evening stand-by. That's what we did one evening of a hot day.
Kevin & I got into the boat and made our way to our preferred reach and literally waited. The big mayflies were going to come off, we simply had to wait. And wait. And wait. Being so hot and bright, it was going to be post sundown most certainly this day before anything would happen.
As we sat, I mentioned to him that the previous night there had been a big slurp under an overhanging spruce tree but we didn't have a shot at it as my guest picked off the tree rather than the fish. It had been rising quite nicely and - as so often goes - he who casts 'iffy' catches trees while the fish are rising, and he who can cast very well doesn't cast because, generally, there are no fish rising.
And, there we were. No fish rising. We chatted. We waited.
Kev finally had enough, hopped out for a quick pee and then grabbed his rod. "Where?" he asked.
"Put it 2 feet above the spruce bow, drift it 5 feet. 2 - 3 feet off the bank", I suggested.
He did.

All was happy after that. The bugs came and the fishing got silly. In some spots there were a few  good browns rising in ear shot, some surprisingly close to the boat. As we came down one long bend there was a brown rising off a log. Try as he might, Kev couldn't get the right cast to it.
It certainly didn't help that he was going be sound. It was pitch black. I was 4 feet behind him, rowing, holding us in position and could just make out his light hat. That's all I saw. The water was black, the bank black, and you could only hear birds back across the river. I held us in an eddy and lightly stroked us closer up to the seam coming off the log. The fish rose a few times under my oar as I reached the top of the inseam. Still rising, the popping right below us, right in front of Kevin.
Kevin still couldn't see but made many attempts at getting the drift in.
After about 3 dozen casts, in what he thought was the same timing of the drift, he heard a popping take. And he set.
The fish hadn't taken the fly. The fly was stuck in the tip of the log. As it turns out, he said every drift would have been off by a foot or two. I pushed us up gently, trying to not spook the fish while getting Kev close enough to dislodge the fly. In the pitch black, he followed his fly line to the leader to the tippet with his hand.

As his had reached his fly stuck on the log, he felt the fish rise to take a mayfly, the head popping into the palm of his outreached hand.

He never caught that fish. It took a 5 minute break from rising after the encounter. But, when will you ever have that experience again?

Top 15 of Canadian 2012 - #11 - Superfine Hoppers

In mid August, Amelia & I found ourselves with a day off - we had a couple together this past August - a joy! The weather was perfect for almost anything. Hot, high cloud, sunny breaks, following up a recent cold spell. Really, it didn't matter what trout species, what stream, what region of the province we fished, it was going to be good fishing.
About 1/2 hour before we were going to leave home, the doorbell rang. Amelia opened the door to find the delivery man with two boxes with our names. Those wonderful triangular, 3 foot cardboard Orvis boxes. New Rods! Oh Boy!
We had purchased 2 new rods for our waters here in Alberta. Two 4 wt, 9 foot Superfine Touch rods. We'd had the pleasure of casting the rods with the Hydros Superfine fly line at the Orvis Guide Rendezvous in the spring and made ourselves promise to but a pair for ourselves. They were in our mitts - Sweet As!
Yes, we took them with.

And they were exactly what we'd been waiting for. They are the perfect central Alberta trout stream fly rod. While the new Helios 2 is a cat's-ass all around rod, the 4 wt Superfine rods are the rod I would fish 90% of my time in my home region. No questions asked. They are a touch softer than the old Scott G-Series rods; a touch stiffer than the old style Superfine full flex rod from 15 years back; definitely more finesse than the original Helios 4 wt, mid-flex rods we have. We've loved the Helios rods unconditionally the past 3 or 4 or so years they've been out and our 4 wts are what we used exclusively in that time - both at home and New Zealand.

But... you know when you arrive at home? Well, for home, we have our new home rods.
See if you can spot the #11 moment of the 2012 Canada season in the "Supperfine Hoppers" video we did for Orvis after that first day on a local brown trout stream. It was magical.

Top 15 of Canadian 2012 - #13 - The Hungy Hopper

We continue the countdown of top moments at #13. It's the Hungry Hopper.

Amelia & I don't get a lot of opportunity to fish together once things really get rolling in our season. In 2012 we had a few staff up at Fortress Lake Retreat take care of a moderate, consistent month of August. While there's a ton to do to support the Retreat from the home office & supplies stores, we were able to sneak a few trips in together.

One such day opportunity came later in August. We weren't sure what reach of what stream to do, it was as though we were stunned we had time to fish. We decided to go off our regular route and hit a  stream we'd not fished previously and a reach we'd never heard anything about. It was not by happen chance that we wound up on the section we did after asking access permission. A little satellite reconnaissance and we found the perfect sight-fishing set of banks. We walked the stream and were treated to a steady diet of browns in the 14 to 22" range. It was magical - not a breath of wind, and not a cloud in the sky. We simply spotted trout holding in the water or spotted rise forms upstream as we walked. And most fish - all they needed was a hopper landing somewhere within 10 feet of them - up, side, or down stream of their lie.

As we came around one amazing bend, looking upstream, I spotted a gorgeous brown rising at the top end. It was slurrrping shamelessly. Its wake... impressive. It was Amelia's turn too, so I was getting excited behind the camera to shoot the event. But then she moved a little slower, suggesting she saw a good fish rise just above her in what looked to be 10" of water in a shallow trough under overhanging grasses. Sluurrrp went the upper brown. Painful, that girl, sometimes... just cast to that big fatty up top already! But no... she waited. Her lower fish rose again. I didn't think much of it, more hopped up on my hopper happy fatty at the top end. I framed it on video, the two fish rising in unison. Her cast was perfect - a foot above the lower fish, the hopper draping off the grasses and into the trough. SSSSUUUUCCK.

I'll go on record as being wrong... again. The take - amazing. Hookset? Spectacular. It was one of those - set the hook and watch the world explode moments. All you saw was thrashing white with a dark tail wiggling from the froth... kind of like that alien popping out of dude's chest in the first Alien movie. You can't not see it, you know?

And then the fight was on. It went upstream - a huge wake and an arcing fly line. I was so convinced the upper fish was a monster that on video you hear me telling Amelia to horse her fish back as to not spook the tank upstream. It rose once while she fought her fish. That was the last we saw of it as her fish owned the 4 wt a moment. And she did horse it, I guarantee you, I'll give her that. And it was a spectacular fish from start to finish. As it came to net with it's big, rubbery tail, maybe hers was worth sacrificing that top fish after all. It was in that 25 or 26" range.

Spawning Time

We just embedded a short video "Spawning Time". The video was taken this last week out west on a small stream - a tiny spring creek actually. It simply shows some pre spawn behavior of fish nipping at each other, then some nest building. Both browns and brookies in this video. It's been fun just walking and stalking and looking at the fish. Anyway, check the upper right hand column of the blog to see the 2 - 1/2 min vid.
Cheers.

Saturday walk & photos

The weather turned yesterday, finally. We finally broke freezing overnight again. Finally? Yes, we've been waiting for a couple of cold nights - in the -10C range. Last night was the first of those and we took advantage of it. Typically, to see browns spawn during the day you need a cold night and a cool, lower light day - or areas of a stream in shade. Of course, as we walked, we came across a few brookies spawning up in the higher reaches of the stream as well. It wasn't a warm day but the video was great, and a few photos were ok on the new camera. I can hardly wait to shoot some New Zealand tanks this winter. The brown I photo'd in the following shots - feeding - was only about 16". The shots turned out ok for being in the shade, moving, and not being a huge fish. The shots of the spawning browns below were a pair - she's about 17" and he's 22-ish. It's interesting to walk this stream. By the end of each season we tend to walk it without rods more often than not, and focus more on the fish spotting and photo/video. It's neat.

A good day with some good, neat moments.

Saw it coming

If you read the blog this week, the post about the big browns in the pond, the follow up post should have been easy to predict. It was for me. There I was, alone, AJ up in Edmonton. Not a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind, crystal clear water and cruising, feeding browns below my feet. I even said AJ & I would be going back to try to get it all on HD on Friday. As soon as I'd stated that, I could tell you what would happen. And it did. We went back to that pond yesterday. It was cloudy and windy. Sighting was tough. Video with that glare was pointless. I managed to sight the large male. He wasn't feeding. In the 3 days between visits he'd gone from taking nymphs and cruising the shoreline for 100m to patrolling 5m of shoreline, holding atop his nest. He now sports white scuff marks on his fins. The redd is quite impressive. Didn't so much as cast to him.
So, we decided that it would be a good time to go to another set of ponds a mile away on another tiny spring creek. We tromped through the bush and as we approached saw a school of 9 trout. Pretty cool stuff in a pond that we'd last been to in early spring 2 - 1/2 years ago. The water was murky with ice at that time. Today, gin clear. As we sat on the bank waiting for the fish to cycle the pond, we saw something I'd not seen before. There were 3 browns, 2 in the 13 or 14" range, and one FAT male in the 24" range. The interesting part was the other 6 fish were brookies, and they were all cruising together. It was obvious the big brown was on his game. He was pestering the smaller females, sidling up to them, patrolling the pool. He was likely looking for a place to happen and a fish to do it with, and wasn't interested in any food. I managed takes from 3 of the brookies but the browns were totally turned off. It was fascinating to watch. And now I have yet another pond with another big male brown to visit next year. :)

On other notes, the mountain rivers remain murky thanks to runoff from the snow. Other local waters are in good shape but the browns are obviously getting into the spawn mode now. Area lakes are in great shape, with boatmen hatches and caddis the hilights. The weather is going to change Sunday afternoon - evening with more seasonable temperatures coming. There might be a bounce back day mid week, otherwise it's looking like low to maybe mid teens now. Fall is on its way. Turn over won't be too far away on local lakes.

Sighted

We spend quite a bit of time on the water and this weekend was no different. The one thing AJ & I always wonder this time of the year - where is everybody? Stauffer's fishing well - there might have been some anglers there over the weekend but none Thurs or Fri. But we drive past Range Roads, bridges, etc and see no vehicles. No sightings, no footprints, nothing. Well, we do see a few things out there...

Bat Crap Fever

I wish I could get pictures. I really do. Actually, I wish I could video tape it. I wonder if the night vision setting on the video camera would pick it up? There again, I've tried it before and it's kind of hokey looking.
Fishing alone in the twilight sounds romantic. The low light and still air often lets you hear splashing, aggressive takes in the distance, well out of vision. Some nice trout are caught in these conditions, as large trout feed without a care of predation. Earlier in the season, large mayflies such as brown drakes and hexagenias hatch, bringing most every fish in the water to the surface. It can be wonderful.
However, trout aren't the only mayfly munchers. Recently, I enjoyed late night fishing over several nights. On one corner, a few bugs hatched and some fish began to rise. I stood thigh deep in mud and in the water as I stalked a nice brown trout. I waited for the fish to rise. THUMP. Something hit my rod. TWITCH. Something got tangled in my line. ZING went my fly line, being pulled upwards by something that had taken my mayfly pattern off the water and was flying away with it. Thankfully, it fell back down after what was it let it go.
I used to get a kick out of sitting on one of the local ponds, Mitchell, Ironside, Beaver, Fiesta, etc and watch as the swallows skim the water surface and hover to pick off sedges and midges. Watching them flutter and swoop is a lot of fun. Some nights the swallows would give far more action than the trout, and the swallows often were more fun to watch, frankly.
But back to the recent fishing and the aerial show. These weren't swallows, unfortunately. The sound in the air is nearly inaudible as they fly past. The radar like clicks and zips in their communication subtle. The eery, ghostly grey-brown flapping and swooshing past your left, right, left, left, left ear really gets unnerving. Yes, bats can do that to a guy.
One evening I watched the surface of the water, reflecting a silver sheen, come alive with heavy dimplings. It took a minute, but when one such heavy dimple landed, then another, on my hat, my shoulder, and my sunglasses, I was marginally grossed out. Bat crap! Bugger. It went from squirming and squeamishly trying to avoid a flying bat in the face to keeping my face down to avoid getting bat crap on my nose.
Another evening I was casting to a rising trout and as I stroked to lay the line, my rod smacked a bat. The next cast it happened again. 11 times that night I smacked a bat on a cast. There's a record for you.
Still another evening I had to stop fishing one run because bats kept getting tangled in my fly line. From where I was fishing from my rod tip could get no closer than 4 feet off the water and bats worked the grassy banks of the stream, flying into my tip slack. It happened literally every 10 seconds, to the point I gave that location up.

Then, last night, it finally happened. It all came together. I was standing in the water, hiding behind a branch watching a nice brown feed. I was off balance so I reached up to hold on to the branch as I secured my footing in the mud. As I reached up a squeak was followed by flapping wings. Apparently there had been a bat roosting or feeding on the branch somewhere. That'll get your attention. I began to cast to the trout. My first cast landed and a bat swooped in and picked the fly off the water. It dropped the fly. I cast again. This time I hooked up. On my back cast I hooked a bat and cast it at the fish. Thankfully it landed well upstream of the fish and I began stripping it in. "Now what?" I asked myself - half hoping the damned bat would fall off the fly because I didn't want to have to deal with that, and the other half of me hoping it would stay on the line so I'd have the coolest fly fishing photo to share here on the blog. I was just lifting the fly and bat off the water when it fell off. The bat did a funky bat crawl-swim to shore. Finally, I cast to the trout, who seemingly had been patiently waiting. We made acquaintances.

Amelia gets home this afternoon. I can hardly wait to take her fishing tonight. I'm sure it'll excite her senses. :)

Can I touch you to see if you're real?

One of my favorite songs opens with the line "Can I touch you to see if you're real?" Eyes of a Stranger by the Payolas remains a classic. Last night's theme song... in spades.
As I worked my way up around a bend a beaver spooked in the low light, wooshing into the water and sending small wavelets into the current, startling me. I hadn't seen it and it simply took me off guard. I was on my way up and focusing on the water ahead. It's a good thing I stopped, as a nice brown fed a rod length above me, three... four times. It was a simple flip of the fly to above the last rise and a slight twitch - the 19" trout landed a few minutes later. Curiously, the beaver wooshed again. And again.
Every fly fisher knows where this is going.
I sat and watched as the subtle current seam carried the mayfly hatch past a thick weed bed, a dead zone along a deep trough. I watched as a huge head popped up again, the yellow lips unmistakable. Beaver, no. The male brown was so large it couldn't help but make a popping sound, leave a white wake, and send wavelets into the stream. Every few takes it would charge into the current and slash at a bug before returning to the subtle rising inside the weed bed.
I lowered myself and cast below the fish, hoping to get it on a downstream cycle, also not wanting to over commit. "Protect the edge" I always tell myself and others. Work your way in from the outside edges of what is perceived to be the trout's feeding zone first, tempt the fish to come to you so you don't make the error of lining a fish by not knowing its cycle. Especially if it's slow water during a moderate or light hatch that allows for random takes. I listened to my own advice. The first cast at the lower, outer edge. Next, a little deeper into the perceived zone, but still on the downstream edge. Next, the outer edge of the seam above and let it drift into the edge. Again, a little further in but still drifting down. The fish rose again 2 feet in. Like so many trophy browns in New Zealand, it wouldn't commit to anything outside its zone. Cast again, 2 feet above its last rise, right on its line.
The lips came up with a deep yellow ochre. Then came the unmistakable sucking sound. Knowing its size, I used the old New Zealand adage - "God Save the Queen" prior to hook set, to allow the large fish to take the fly, turn, and drop back into the water prior to hook set. It really works on large fish, allowing the hook to be taken in so the hook set is firm, and not simply a light peripheral, or complete miss, on the lips. And I was on.
The fight went as most do with big fish. A measure of posture from each - followed by the other responding in kind. Moments of uncertainty as the rod throbbed with heavy head shakes. Once seeing the hook solidly wedged, however, I knew time was all that was needed. It jumped 3 times and made 2 unsuccessful runs at the heavy timber below us. Not today, my friend. Finally, it was in the net. Well, 1/2 of it anyway.
"Can I touch you to see if you're real?" and the percussion ran through my head in the dim light. More lines from the song "Have you been sleeping for all of these years? Is it magic that makes you appear?" Mood music, certainly. I'd been past this same run so many times previously, never seeing so much as a fish rise. But tonight... tonight the magic set in, magic that made him appear. Reality set in. It was a massive trout. I've fly fished Alberta a long time, since I was 5. 33 years now. I'd seen 30+" trout on the walls of a friend's house, caught on Rappallas and jigs. I always told a friend of mine, Steve, that I somehow would be disappointed if I caught a 30" brown on a streamer or nymph. He always asked me why - why be disappointed by something so magical? The answer I always came back to was that it would be so happen chance - so unknown - so random. To catch it on a dry fly, either by sighting it in the water or seeing a rise first allows you to engage with the knowledge that you are about to engage something special, something that you willingly participate in.
And there it was, in my net.
I've recently read the threads of the Alberta record brown trout caught - somewhere in the 21 pound class caught on spinning gear. Awesome. I've also read some interesting brow-beating discussion that the person killed the fish. Discussion ran between the purist that wants everything honored and released, and the opposite view where that kind of fish takes dedication and many years of hunting special waters to catch... and being legal, why wouldn't you want to mount the fish as a trophy of the accomplishment? I appreciate both sides. For me, a 21lb brown will never happen. I've always sought a 10lb brown on the dry fly in Alberta - that's all I've wanted to do. Back 15 years I always wondered if I would keep such a fish to commemorate the event. It wasn't even a thought until just now. There was no question, no thought of it. Last night, I simply held the fish, put a piece of tape around the rod where its tail (unpinched) came to on the rod. 30-3/4" when I got home. Let's call it 30", and most certainly 10 pounds. Was it 12? I don't know, I don't care. We've caught several 30+" New Zealand 10+ lb browns on dries and sighted. But to do it on the dry on my home waters... spectacular. All I know is that fish created a moment for me that I'll always appreciate. The view of the yellow lips coming up, the white wake, the pop, and being able to stroke a paused hook set was magical. I managed a photo before letting it swim away, its tail waving through the silver water as it disappeared.

Another lesson

We've been puttering around small lakes in our jon boat for a few years now, using a small marine battery pack from Canadian Tire. We bought a second as back up, never really intending to attempt to fish larger lakes or longer reaches of river with them. They served us well, but a spring trip to MB Parkland had us cursing the short lived power that kept us from exploring the entirety of the lakes there. That wasn't the first time that we'd had some limitations - some of the floats on the Red Deer R have seen a little more rowing than we care to admit. But, we've gotten by and there's never been a big impetus to replace the battery packs.
Until last night.

I was out on a local water, enjoying late night fishing. A few very nice trout were caught, I had the place to myself, and eagles, deer, and a series of waterfowl and songbirds kept me company. It was very pleasant. The fishing really came on strong. As dusk settled, I saw the silver edges of two huge thunderheads in the distance. But there was lots of time and the fish were turning on yet. I cast to a few risers as I made my way. Time passed and the thunderheads drew near. What was pitch black turned to daylight, streaks of lightning flashing the shoreline and trees to full daylight. Time to get going! About that time I was giggling to myself that only a week earlier a group of us were scathing the fellow in Ontario that was killed by lightning in a tube just 2 weeks ago. You never expect it to be you. I kept track of the lightning to thunder time. Most were over 10 seconds, but a few claps came 7 seconds. My electric motor slowed. I rowed. And I rowed. The claps drew down to 7 seconds avg. I knew I was pushing it. The motor was nearly dead when the lightning switched from mostly behind or from the side to a blinding fork bolt with nary a second delay to the clap.

And I was 200m from my car at 11:45 pm.  Bugga!

So, there I sat, in a stand of trees. Waiting. And I waited. The lightning was intense, wonderful to watch, a joy to be in. But, for the life of me, I couldn't fathom how much less I could have enjoyed the time than getting soaked under a tree 200m from my car, waiting until 12:45 before the lightning and small hail lifted so I could get off the water just as the second cell hit.

It's 8:20 on Saturday morning. I hear the stores open at 9. Guess where I'll be?  1000 amp deep cycle battery anyone?
It's amazing the things we don't worry about until forced to. Something so simple as running 2 battery packs should have been enough, and have been enough the 3 trips on the same water, simply weren't when needed. Just a reminder to us all to make sure that you have plenty more than enough of whatever you might need... because you might need just a little more some time.
Cheers!

July 30 Fishing Report

July 30 - 2010
The region is in almost perfect condition, though water levels remain higher than normal. Lingering impacts on fishing are now down to the Ram in the mid to lower canyon reach where water levels continue to scour the sandstone, keeping visibility down and sediment loads up. Otherwise, most everything is in good to great shape! Perfectly timed for this long weekend!

N Ram is fishable - 4 - 5 foot vis and green-clear @ Nice Cr
S Ram - mid to lower canyon is a little high (watch the crossings) and visibility definitely poor. Much better upstream.
Upper Red Deer is in good shape - watch out for jet boats this weekend.
Blackstone is in good shape
Prairie, Red Deer tailwater, Little RDR, FallenTimber, Dogpound, etc are in good shape, though lower reaches may be impacted by the t-storms forming further out from the foothills recently.
Hatches - golden stones, pmds, brown drakes, tricos, caddis, midges, mid sized hoppers, yellow sallies, lime sallies, flavs, green drakes in high country.

The Hinton - Edson waters along the #16 corridor are all clear and low as of this morning.

One popular bug

It takes some time to set up shots for a tv show. Especially one that is educational and not simply a soundtrack and fishing footage. Each show has its own place, charm, and market segment. This week we're doing a shoot with the New FF, focusing on small streams and hunting brown trout. In amongst the moving of gear, tripod, and camera, there's been the biggest mayfly in Alberta hatching. At one camera stop, we came across a hex on a stick at the water's edge. It became and instant hit with 5 still cameras and the $100K vid camera all focusing on the hex. When you have 5 people on the bank of a trout stream more interested in the insects the trout are feeding on than the fish rising in the run just upstream, you know you have a few different folks in the crew.

We've managed to get a few nice takes and nice fish on video thus far. Unfortunately the light was too dim during the peak of the hatch the other night as waves of hexes the size of your pinky lined the stream's edge. To say every fish in the water was feeding top side would be an understatement.

Today we're headed to a tiny spring creek to attempt sight fishing. Hopefully the wind stays down, the clouds stay away, and the fish look up. If that all comes together, it should make for some wonderful footage.

Fronted again

It was +19.5C when AJ & I closed the car door to walk down to the stream. The 11am forecast was for steady temps for RMH, with wind downgraded t0 N20kmh, with showers. PERFECT. We arrived at the water and immediately a 19" brown was rising along a weed bed, far bank. It didn't take much to hook him up. We moved upstream and AJ had a taker on a dropper system she'd rigged. Just a few yards upstream we sighted a 17" brown at the head of a trough, holding beside a rock on the bottom. AJ's first cast was to its right, which would have needed the brown to move into shallower water to feed. No dice. Her second cast led upstream left, and drift into the slot. The trout met the nymph bang on. We moved up to find a brown holding in another slot. I used her dropper system as it wasn't moving. A nice drift, the fish met it mid column. A good day. 10 yards further, to a favorite corner pool and 3 trout rising. All three hooked up with us rotating. Another bankside under a spruce overhang tight to the bank. I hooked up. We moved up to another bankside trout in a trough. AJ missed the take to the dry on my rod. We thought no chance of it coming back to the dry, which it didn't, but I climbed atop the bank to see if I could spot it. It had moved 3 feet upstream of the tree root it had originally taken downstream of. She switched to the dropper. As I sighted for her, a 25" male with a flagging tail moved in to the slot immediately to the right and shallower in the water column. It was a leading candidate for a cast, but AJ's fish was the deeper, outside fish.

Now, this would be a good time to mention that Red Deer's forecast was substantially different than that of RMH. It called for a weather anomaly - drastically falling temps due to a cold low trough, and high winds and heavy rain. As AJ began to work this fish, the lightning strikes were less than a mile away and drizzle began. By the time she had the dropper set up rod in her hand, the wind was beginning to swirl, the rain intense.

Her cast went in perfect line to the smaller brown. Out of consideration of me, when it took the nymph she ripped it out of the hold and forced it downstream. The lightning grew fierce, above us. The wind chopped at the water. The rain heavy. Her fish a scant 21" female. :)  Joy!  But, as the rain fell and wind swept the water, I watched the flagging tail of the large male, certain at 25" perhaps 26". It simply swam upstream to a deep undercut trough. It was the last fish we saw as the rain hammered at us for an hour before we left the relative comfort of the spruce tree we stood under and headed home.

On the drive home, two and a half hours after leaving the car (recall it was 19.5C), we drove home at +8C. A few weeks ago I wrote a blog post wondering why I bothered to fish through a massive pressure and temperature swing post thunderstorm. It happened again today. Oddly, I was fishing the same water today as I did 3 weeks ago when it last happened! This time, though, I didn't keep fishing. Fool me once... that's all I gave this time!

Life, eh? And, now, upon arriving home, the forecast is for up to 4" of rain by Wed. Ah, life, eh? A good day to work on the video production tomorrow... or fish a lake. :)

A day together

It's been a while since we fished dries to browns together. We were able to sneak away for the day on Sunday together. It was supposed to be perfect weather - cloudy with moderate wind and a few showers. 1/2 hr in the rain hit and it simply dumped on us for an hour and a bit. The wind whipped up and whitecaps came down the stream at us. We just wanted to be out together and the gradient of pressure and temperature change wasn't too great, so we stayed and continued fishing. Good thing. It wasn't a stellar day but we found fish rising to pmds mixed in with the cells that rolled through the day. By the time we walked back to the car, we were simply drenched. Wearing a light rain coat vs a heavier rain jacket makes a difference. Dually noted.

A few good days

Word around the region is that it's early. The ice has just or is just coming off and while there may be a few bugs and a few areas where fish are active, there isn't consistent action. The +25C heat is double the normal values and we're sure that everyone, like us, is chomping at the bit. We've been fortunate to be on the water pretty much every day recently. There have been good days and so-so days, depending on your definition of things. Right now we're still focused on sight fishing, per my article in this year's Alberta Fishing Guide Magazine - browns in small, clear waters. It has worked, though things aren't rolling quite yet. That has as much to do with exploring more Google Earth waters as it has been hitting the wrong water at the right time or the right water at the wrong time. Fish have been seen, caught, and filming completed, and we've had fun - and that's great. A few shots of the past few days:

Above - skwala stone on a cloudy day. The hatch is just starting on many waters.

Below: landing a nice brown from a corner pocket.

Above: Another nice trout - this one out of Stauffer Cr.

Below: A happy day.