Well it's here. Frozen white flakes blanketed our back yard and, our apple tree, still full with its autumn plumage, toppled from the merciless onslaught of wet snow.
I am not looking forward to winter. Once the snow flies it is a sign to air out your rods, clean reels, hang your fly line, and otherwise buckle down in your den and start tying flies. I can't do it. In a last ditch revolt against mother nature I loaded my truck with rod, reel, waders, boots and vest and went down to the Columbia.
It has been two months since I last fished the mighty Columbia which is sad as it's only 5 minutes away. I blame it on my increasingly busy schedule. I now have hockey and curling and an altered work schedule to attend to, and of course the weather has been tragic, and I am getting old and apparently more and more prone to making poor excuses.
In any case, I finally pulled on my neoprene waders and strung my fly rod. The cool weather has made hatches non-existent so I went with my bead head woolly bugger (a type of attractor pattern fly) and sinking line. A thick gauze of cloud covered the sky, as two eagles chased each other over the water, dipping and diving, then circling slowly overhead before alighting on the nearby branches of nearby trees. I cast into the clear cool flow, letting the line drift with the current before halting then executing a slow retrieve. I was busy watching the eagles and thoughtlessly twisting line between my fingers when the first trout struck. More often than not, I miss these hits when otherwise distracted, but for some reason this small trout hung on and I brought it to hand in no time. All in all, I landed 4 fish in two hours, released two and kept two smallish ones for my mom who is the best mother in the world and more than deserving of a couple fresh trout.
I forget sometimes how much I love fly fishing. Often, it takes a little time away to rediscover that passion and understanding of why I fish. To paraphrase Henry David Thoreau, " A man can fish all his life and not realize that it is not the fish he is after". I think most true fly fishers realize this but still a good fish can make a trip just as an appreciation of the natural world, its beauty and wonderful intricacies can make a fishless trip also worthwhile.
A week ago I also returned to the Lardeau for a quick day trip. I arrived an hour before sunrise, hiked up a winding trail into the alpine and scouted the banks and hillsides for sign of grizzly and/or elk. I found sign everywhere, fresh grizzly droppings on my way back down the trail, fresh elk prints, but unfortunately no sightings. Finally, as the sun rose into a lovely day, I enjoyed watching eagles, osprey, turkey vultures and mergansers feed on the last vestiges of spawning kokanee.
I tried out a new waterproof camera I bought for Natasha for her birthday (which she probably hasn't used yet) and took some photos of the spawning kokanee subsurface. I found it difficult to get the kokanee to pose but through trial and error and freezing hands, I eventually got a few shots.
If anyone has similar stories or experiences I'd like to hear them. I get tired of listening to myself all the time. Thanks sp for leaving a comment on my last blog and encourage anyone who reads this to do the same.
Have a Happy Hallowe'en One and All.
If you click on the pictures you get really big pictures.
Back to www.fly-fish-bc.com
I am not looking forward to winter. Once the snow flies it is a sign to air out your rods, clean reels, hang your fly line, and otherwise buckle down in your den and start tying flies. I can't do it. In a last ditch revolt against mother nature I loaded my truck with rod, reel, waders, boots and vest and went down to the Columbia.
It has been two months since I last fished the mighty Columbia which is sad as it's only 5 minutes away. I blame it on my increasingly busy schedule. I now have hockey and curling and an altered work schedule to attend to, and of course the weather has been tragic, and I am getting old and apparently more and more prone to making poor excuses.
In any case, I finally pulled on my neoprene waders and strung my fly rod. The cool weather has made hatches non-existent so I went with my bead head woolly bugger (a type of attractor pattern fly) and sinking line. A thick gauze of cloud covered the sky, as two eagles chased each other over the water, dipping and diving, then circling slowly overhead before alighting on the nearby branches of nearby trees. I cast into the clear cool flow, letting the line drift with the current before halting then executing a slow retrieve. I was busy watching the eagles and thoughtlessly twisting line between my fingers when the first trout struck. More often than not, I miss these hits when otherwise distracted, but for some reason this small trout hung on and I brought it to hand in no time. All in all, I landed 4 fish in two hours, released two and kept two smallish ones for my mom who is the best mother in the world and more than deserving of a couple fresh trout.
I forget sometimes how much I love fly fishing. Often, it takes a little time away to rediscover that passion and understanding of why I fish. To paraphrase Henry David Thoreau, " A man can fish all his life and not realize that it is not the fish he is after". I think most true fly fishers realize this but still a good fish can make a trip just as an appreciation of the natural world, its beauty and wonderful intricacies can make a fishless trip also worthwhile.
A week ago I also returned to the Lardeau for a quick day trip. I arrived an hour before sunrise, hiked up a winding trail into the alpine and scouted the banks and hillsides for sign of grizzly and/or elk. I found sign everywhere, fresh grizzly droppings on my way back down the trail, fresh elk prints, but unfortunately no sightings. Finally, as the sun rose into a lovely day, I enjoyed watching eagles, osprey, turkey vultures and mergansers feed on the last vestiges of spawning kokanee.
I tried out a new waterproof camera I bought for Natasha for her birthday (which she probably hasn't used yet) and took some photos of the spawning kokanee subsurface. I found it difficult to get the kokanee to pose but through trial and error and freezing hands, I eventually got a few shots.
If anyone has similar stories or experiences I'd like to hear them. I get tired of listening to myself all the time. Thanks sp for leaving a comment on my last blog and encourage anyone who reads this to do the same.
Have a Happy Hallowe'en One and All.
If you click on the pictures you get really big pictures.
Back to www.fly-fish-bc.com