Alberta - BC Fly Fishing Canada
British Columbia….beautiful British Columbia. Driving into BC dehydrated after a great day of fishing, my first view of Fernie was in complete darkness. I remember feeling glad that someone else was driving, I could barely keep my eyes open.
I felt a certain sense of deja vu~exhausted, with what I hoped would be a great day of fishing the very next morning. I couldn’t imagine having any energy the following day and, settled in the routine we were in, there would be little or nothing in the way breakfast/caffeine to help me out.
While I am without regret on this aspect of the trip (tearing around, making the fishing the top priority, EVERYTHING else be damned) I think I would relax a little more next time. This “routine” might be better suited to BC than Alberta though. With the license system adopted this year by the Province of British Columbia, we were required to buy a regular license (approx.$29.00 for the 2 days) PLUS a daily river “tag” for the watershed we planned to fish.
Day #1 was to be the Elk, so we had to pay out an additional $24.00.This would allow us to fish the Elk and it’s tributaries. If you decided to change your mind, an additional tag would be necessary for a different river~even if it was on the same day. Bizarre. The BC government might as well come out and say they don’t want you there! The reading I had done leading up to the trip suggested that, while there is some opposition, everyone can kind of understand why it needs to be this way.
The feeling I got in Fernie was a bit different. A couple of visiting old timers were complaining to a fly shop owner that this would be their last year there~Montana is just as close and the licenses are allot cheaper. The fly shop owner’s response is that he had to cancel over $20,000 worth of orders from suppliers due to the drop in visiting fly fisherman. The talk was that there needed to be an adjustment in the new regs., and one might well be on the way. Anyhow, enough of that business~lets talk fishing!
After obtaining our Elk license(s) and a pile of crazy-looking cutthroat dry flies (see part#2) we were off to explore a section of the Elk. Beautiful, bottle-green, ice cold gem of a river that it is. With the words of the fly shop staff we had talked to that morning still dancing through my head (like “Average fish is 15”-16” and “you could try nymphs 
, but why bother~they prefer hitting dries” and, when asked where to start, “you could really try anywhere~the river is full of fish”) we were finally off to try he ELK! I opted to leave my Folstaff (wading staff) in the car for two reasons; 1.It looked as though there would be no need to cross the river and 2.There appeared to be some wider, shallower stretches within sight that would probably make it and easy task if needed. Bad move. when we hit the river, we split up. The sun was high, it was close to noon and there was lots of water. I took off down the side of a long, slender island with the thought that I would fish up the opposite side and hook up with Dan near the top. With some hesitation, I tied on one of the ridiculous-looking green drake patterns I picked up only 30 minutes before. Looking out at the thigh-deep clear water FLYING downstream over the entire width of the river, I could see no obvious structure, but took a few casts anyway. Not convinced about the fly, or where I was casting it, I stopped and looked around. “What would I do at home?” I though to myself.
Looking up along the side of this island there was a dead tree laying in the water. (more like a log~sun-bleached log with very few branches and no evidence of leaves) There was a small pool created by the current sweeping under it and it looked very fishy! I relaxed, and made my first cast. It landed a few feet short of where I planned it to go, but it was met with the rise of NICE-sized trout!!! My heart was pounding! Again, I had to force myself to relax. The next cast landed exactly where I wanted it to~got a refusal. After a few more casts with no results, I decided to stop fishing and watch the pool. With lots of water to cover, my temptation was to just take off and find another spot…but I didn’t. With the words of a guide named John Kumiski (I fished with him a few year back in Titusville Florida) in my head “you don’t leave fish to find fish” I figured that these fish could at least teach me what was going on bug-wise!
So, I watched the pool, but kept seeing what looked like rises in the main current beside it. Remember, the sun was very bright, the water very clear, the riverbed very colorful. After studying the edge, I determined that they were rises indeed. No visible bugs in sight, certainly NOTHING that approached the size of the flies I had just picked up earlier. But…..we had seen a few Pale Morning Duns (PMDs) earlier, and in Alberta so I added a pc. of 5X tippet and tied on a #16 parachute. The first drift through…a silver flash…I was connected to a BC cutthroat! What a great fight this fish gave, putting a healthy bend deep into my 9’ 5wt. GORGEOUS! Little did I know, this was to be one of many cutthroat taken that day~all on dries!
By the time I’d reached the top of the island, Dan was out of site. The number of drift boats going by seemed to be increasing too. At times, it seemed like there was one every 5-10 minutes or so. This seemed a bit surprising, considering it was a weekday. Anyhow, I hiked a bit further up and saw Dan playing a fish in a big pool, a drift boat on the bank nearby. We saw numerous boats pausing in this spot to give the flyfisherman a good crack at it, turned out to be a pretty good spot for the two of us as well! In my first attempt to cross the river (to fish this same run/area) I almost lost my footing. No stranger to wading rivers, having some substantial gravity on my side, I figured this would be easy~not so. The rocks, almost perfectly round and loose, would cause your boot to “roll” over them when you put your weight down. The force of the current was pretty severe, and the river was probably over 80’ wide~not for the faint of heart. In one of these “rolls”, my foot slid between two rocks, twisting my ankle almost throwing me down. I could feel a “rip” sensation and couldn’t tell if this came from the inside of my body…or the outside. My next step was proof enough that something was wrong, so I turned around and returned to the bank. The rip was the sensation of having 2/3 of the sole of my left wading boot tearing away! Dangling, I knew this was no condition to have your boots in~especially in this river.I waved Dan over, a trip back into town would be necessary to get new boots. Dan was, naturally, pretty keen on leaving a pod of big rising cutthroats to make this trip. I appreciated it though, and ended up buying the best wading boots I’ve ever had! (very fair price too) Back to the river, proper wading staff in hand, I made my first attempt at crossing the river. The current was so fast that I literally had to “stab” the staff into the water FAST…about 2 feet upstream of where I wanted it to land on bottom! Crazy. With this “rolling” factor, I ended up probably 40’-50’ downstream of where I started, boots sliding sideways in a sort of snowboard-like position. Scary. Late in the afternoon and into the early evening, the fishing was outstanding.
A couple of double headers, lots of very chunky cutthroats….most, if not all of them on PMD dries and emergers. For a while, they seemed totally keyed-in on emergers. No match for Dan, he switched to a Sparkle Pupa and we were into them again~problem solved! Hooking cutthroats in the mountains in a river like the Elk….what a way to spend a day. After leaving the river, I vowed to never try to cross it again~at least in current that strong. There are better ways to get to the other side, and better spots to try it. I won’t guess at the number of fish we caught because I simply don’t know. I think I stopped counting after I hit about 10 or 12 fish~almost more than anyone deserves on their first trip to a river…..almost…
BC~day #2 Wigwam River
The Wigwam River, or “Wiggy” as I heard several locals call it, is probably the most idyllic pc. of trout water I’ve seen in my 36 years. Honestly, words do fall short, so I won’t try. The photos tell the story..almost.
I will say this~if you’re prepared to get the river tag, make the drive, find a way in, hike the sometimes hundreds of yards between good pools/runs~you will likely be rewarded. Known more as a bull trout destination, our timing (a week or two early) would mean we would likely be fishing for cutthroats…what a shame, I know. With the mercury hitting 30 degrees C that day, I chose to wade “wet.” The river was…..a bit chilly to say the least, but made the hiking part of the day a little easier to deal with. We each caught a number of fish, most of which had beautiful color more vibrant than the fish in the Elk. (…and I didn’t think that was even possible).
Having lost our way trying to find the river the first time, we were left with a limited amount of time on the river and, due to its remote nature, were not keen on hiking out in the dark. The hours we spent there were awesome though, I know I felt like a kid most of the time, anxious to see what was around the next bend. Dan ended up landing a beautiful cutthroat on a
PMD emerger pattern~great fish, and the biggest cutthroat I think we saw the whole week. Good job Dan~we know where he lives now! (not that it helps~I hooked its companion a few minutes later and it promptly wrapped itself around a log, gone).
Hard to be too bummed-out about it, one look around reminded me I was indeed fortunate to even be standing there. Too much….
We decided to head back to Alberta the following day, the land of one fishing license~fish wherever and whenever you want. There were a few places we wanted to try along the
Forestry Trunk Road (FTR) near the Crowsnest Pass. This portion of the story really deserves it’s own report, but I’ll include an abbreviated version of it here. The next two, and last two outings shaped the way I would view Alberta fishing forever. With reports of bull trout “moving up” some of these smaller streams, the idea of fishing 3wts. and getting bulls again seemed too good to pass up. That is, until it happened. Within an hour or so of fishing one of these small streams, I passed Dan the big caddis dry I had been getting some action on. (mostly action, not fish mind you) At one great pool that flowed along a large rock, Dan hooked a nice cutthroat about 14” long. About 20 seconds in, Dan starts losing it. “hey man, look at THIS!!!” I turned around from my camera-retrieving to see 3 dark shadows chasing and nipping at the cutthroat! BULLS! I switched to a huge double-bunny streamer (fun on the 3wt.) and tossed it in.Less than 10 seconds into its sinking drift, the line jolted HARD~fish on! What appeared to be a 20”+ bull was doing the twist, violently tugging at the 9’ 3wt. I was silly enough to be using for this. Heavy leader be damned-it wasn’t meant to be. Chaos, on a stream probably 6’-7’ wide at this point. I remember looking at Dan, both of
us kind of in awe. “What the hell just happened?!?!” Our day having begun in BC, we had started the day’s fishing a bit late. With that in mind, we decided to explore a new river we had passed on our way to this spot. After testing one stretch, we decided to do some more exploring~boy, did this pay.
We ended up in a river valley, our 5wts. along for the ride this time. The wind was a real force to be reckoned with in this spot. Some rising fish, but pretty slow at the start. As the sun settled behind the mountain, I began to regret my wet wading choice. Between the water temperature, wind and cold dry air, things were getting a bit uncomfortable. It was around then that we spotted a beautiful run just FULL of rising trout. I quickly hooked one, about 11” long~a cutt-bow! Very strong fish, and tough to fight in the current. Next cast, another fish. Next cast, another. I think it was damned near 6 fish in less than 10 casts, all cutt-bows full of fight. Feeling spoiled, I offered the spot to Dan, who had insisted that I show these fish some love first. Nice indeed. Dan was into fish right away too~what a blast. With the exception of two other guys (who arrived late on this day, carrying only the essentials~a fly rod and box of flies) we had this entire stretch to ourselves. After exchanging pleasantries, we fished until it was too dark to see.
The last day….
Our plan for the day was to visit a trout lake to search for big rainbows, so we packed-up the boats and headed for the mountains. An hour or so later, we arrived to find not only a good number of people, but less than ideal conditions. The wind was strong enough to make waves on this lake~it would be a battle to cast, and to keep the boats in position. I think the same thing was going though our minds…. Lets go back to that river~should hit it just when things are getting good! Sure, its about 2 hours away, but what the hell?
Indeed, it was worth the drive. We decided to try a spot downstream of where we had started the previous day, and work our way up.
The wind was strong, again, but we had figured out how to make the casts between big gusts. The fishing started slow, but eventually the trout began hitting PMDs that were both hatching, and being blown onto the water. Again, not the same action, but lots of fun!
Dan returned from some exploring downstream to find me studying a few big trout rising in a difficult seam on the far side of the river.
After a half dozen casts, one missed hit, I offered the spot to Dan. After trying a couple of casts from downstream (where I was) Dan figured that a better angle might be a downstream casts. On either the first, or second cast, a big trout nailed Dan’s fly and took off downstream!
With only the slightest tinge of orange under it’s jaw, we were not sure if it was a pure bow, or cutt-bow~but both sure it was an awesome fish!
We moved upstream to find a few fish rising where we had caught so many, but they were spooky. Dan ended up hiking upstream, then joining me back at this pool. This time, I headed upstream to a spot where he had some luck, but stopped short to have a look at the tail-out of the big pool/run. There were about 10-15 trout rising quietly, but at least half of them looked big! I dried off my #18 PMD parachute, and laid down the first cast. The fish took, the fight was on! When the trout came to hand, it was pure cutthroat~what a treat! With plenty of fish still rising, it took only 2 casts to hook the next one. Again, another BEAUTIFUL cutthroat! This was shaping up to be an incredible end to my trip.
Getting almost too dark to see, our fellow anglers from the previous night were leaving the river. They invited us to join them for a beer at their campfire when we were done~something that sounded pretty good……but there were still trout rising. About 5 minutes later, a trout sipped my PMD from the surface, I set the hook and without warning, the line started flying off the reel! The Danielsson DryFly makes a great “hiiiissssssss” sound when line is going out…. Anyhow, I started to see the orange of my backing on the spool before the fish slowed down a bit. I worked the fish back to me and landed it…WOW! A big, beautiful, cutthroat!
Now, this story may well sound a bit repetitive, but I never did get used to the sight of these fish. It reminded me of when I got started fly fishing, it was as though I couldn’t believe it could be such an effective way to catch fish. I suppose I’m still in awe sometimes~its probably what keeps me so interested in it… But I digress…
About 15 minutes later, we were heading off of the river in total darkness. With gear off, we made our way towards the sound of Jack Johnson and the smell of woodsmoke. Ice cold Kokanees, trail mix, great fishing stories told by the campfire…if a fishing experience can get better than this, I’ve yet to experience it. My trip west ended like this, but will START this way when I make my way out there again..
