Posts Tagged ‘brook trout’

Recently, I’ve written a couple of posts about where I’ve found errors in fact by so called “experts” in regard to fly fishing. In “Free Fly Fishing Advice,” I wrote about reading where an “expert” had answered a question about tippets and suggested you matched your tippet to the type of fish you were pursuing. In “Fly Fishing Giggles,” I reported on some absolute rubbish that was written by someone named “Markus Debra.” Debra talked suggested halibut was a freshwater species, and that bamboo rods were “common,” while graphite or carbon fiber rods are mainly used for catching “coarse” fish. It’s all kind of funny and a little sad to read stuff like that.

I was browsing the Wikipedia entry on fly fishing this morning and came across this in the first paragraph:

“Fly fishing is a distinct and ancient angling method, most renowned as a method for catching trout and salmon, but employed today for a wide variety of species including pike, bass, panfish, grayling and carp, as well as marine species, such as redfish, snook, tarpon, bonefish and striped bass. There are many reports of fly anglers taking unintended species such as chub, bream and rudd while fishing for ‘main target’ species such as trout. There is a growing population of anglers whose aim is to catch as many different species as possible with the fly.”

I don’t know who writes this stuff, and perhaps I’ve missed something, but it seems to me from the reading that I’ve done, focusing on trout and salmon is a fairly modern thing among fly anglers. The above paragraph is written in such a way that some folk might not realize that fly fishing in Izaak Walton’s day included pursuing a number of different fish species, including gudgeons, sprats, bleaks, herns, tench, roach, umber, loach, and sticklebag. Walton also provides a recipe for cooking eel.

It’s kind of funny – if Brown Trout were being introduced to North America today, there would be a hue and cry from many fly anglers about this “invasive” species that voraciously competes with the naturals of North America. Perhaps many still don’t realize that Brown Trout are not native to North America and were imported from Europe. And indeed, they have competed with natural species. In some watersheds, there is evidence that the browns feast upon the brook trout, and have lowered their numbers.

If we’re going to give fish “respect,” then perhaps we should take another look at Izaak Walton’s attitude. Many consider him the “father of fly fishing,” and use his name in all sorts of ways to promote businesses, clubs and associations. Let’s dispel those salmon and trout myths – and let’s remember that Atlantic Salmon were once “so respected and revered” that they were pitchforked during their runs up rivers from the Great Lakes by folk who wanted to make a meal of them.

By the way, there’s a copy of The Compleat Angler by Walton on this site.

It looked somewhat promising. Partly cloudy and about 20C outside the kitchen window in Whitecourt, Alberta.  Thus far during our little vacation with Colleen, my son and I have not had much opportunity to experience any fishing in Alberta. The days we thought we’d head out turned out to be rainy, chilly and windy – not conditions adverse to myself but not the best for a seven year old.

A few days ago, we were in Al’s Sport Quest in Whitecourt and talked with owner Al about local fishing holes.  As well, Ian Bews of Whitecourt’s “Castaways Fly Tying Club” offered his advice during a phone call with him.  Both mentioned Emerald Lake, north of Whitecourt which holds rainbow and brook trout. In the vicinity of Carson Pegasus Provincial Park, it sounded like an interesting place to try.

The day after we arrived in Whitecourt, we drove through Carson Pegasus but it seemed that fly fishing was best done from a boat or canoe.  Most of the anglers were spin or bait fishing from a boardwalk where a back cast was impossible.

So today, with the what seemed like decent weather, my son David and I headed out to try to find Emerald Lake. We knew it was north of Carson Pegasus but I was confused about how exactly to get in to it.  We drove up Highway 32 and turned east toward Carson Pegasus looking for a road that would take us north, only knowing that Emerald Lake was about 3 km away from the park. The only roads we found were marked as “Private” and being unsure about whether we could legally use them, didn’t. We hoped if nothing else that we might see a bear or two wandering along the side of the road like we had, four days ago.

I finally decided to head back to Highway 32 and go north and try to find a public road heading east off the highway that might perhaps lead us to Emerald Lake. Five kilometres later, we found a road that was not marked “Private” and turned along it, only to discover signs later marking it as private. But we decided to continue on, coming to a T Junction, where we turned south and drove a couple of kilometres when we saw a lake on our right hand side.  From the descriptions provided, I am sure it was Emerald Lake – there was the Muskrat Lodge we were told that we could fish from and have a good chance to get ourselves into some fish.

Except… by the time we arrived, the skies had turned to gray and black clouds and cold rain showers fell.  The wind was so strong that trees were bent right over. I set up David’s spin rod and baited the hook with “Berkley’s Power Bait” – I don’t know anything about the stuff, but it’s what was recommended when not fly fishing.  I set David up on the Muskrat Lodge, gave as good a cast I could in the wind driving right down upon us, then set up my fly rod. Not only the wind, but now the rain was driving down and as I expected, “Dad, I’m cold!”

My fault – I really should have prepared for the possibility of changing weather conditions but didn’t expect the temperature to drop from 20C to 9C in an hour with rain and strong winds. So David agreed to try to warm up in the Jimmy while I thought I might as well try to wet some flies if I could fight the wind.

I had my TCO 9′ 5wt. and tried my best over the next hour or so to cast a few different flies with the challenge of the high wind.  I did have one good tug on a Wooly Bugger, but that was it. Because the lake seems to be surrounded by a marshy area, it was not practical to try the other side of the lake.  After awhile, I realized that it was going to be futile to continue fly fishing in these conditions, and David was getting bored.

Three days ago, Colleen, David and I drove to Fort Assiniboine to check out the museum there, and on our way back, decided to return to Whitecourt via Swan Hills.  South of Swan Hills, I spotted Freeman River which looked like a gorgeous bit of water from the highway.  So, David and I decided that we might as well head up that way to take a closer look at it.  About 15 to 20 minutes north on highway 32, we pulled the Jimmy off the road and walked downstream along the south bank.

Ah… now this is a river I must try!  The water was quite shallow along the bank we were walking, and the water is very wadeable.  It seems to be deeper along the other bank, and as we watched the river, we saw some small fish rising to take flies off the surface.  It seems there are rainbows and grayling in the Freeman – I’m not sure exactly where the best parts might be to fish, but for now, if we get a chance before we have to leave Whitecourt, this might be as good a place to start as any.

Tomorrow, we’re off to Jasper and I’ll take the rods along too, just in case. Maybe on Sunday, we’ll have a few hours to explore the Freeman River – and wouldn’t that be awesome if I caught my first greyling!

It’s been one of those days when one finally goes to sleep, he’s not sure whether to pronounce upon the day that just passed as “good” or “bad.”

First, I did get some stuff accomplished that helps pay for my fly fishing habit. Then, it really started to get “good” around 7PM, when I said to myself, “Self, you should go fly fishing.”

My other part of myself said, “Yes, where shall we go”?

“Hmmm… it might be too late to head to the Grand, but there is that part of the Credit River that you want to explore more.”

“Yes indeedy!  That is where we shall head! It’s only 15 minutes away.”

So, me and myself go through the checklist:

Reel:  Check

Rod:  Check

Fly box: Check

Camera: Check

Waders:  Check

Leaders and mono:  Check

Good!  We’re good to go.  But did you notice anything that was missed in the above checklist?  Read on..

I find my way to the bridge where I want to fish upstream of.  Don’t see anything rising while looking at the river, so I tie on a nymph.  While looking at the river, I’m also noting that it seems a bit washed out… we did have a lot of rain a couple of days ago, and the ground on the trail I’m now walking on, even though there are trees, branches and leaves covering it, is soaking.

And you know what happens when you’re walking along a trail, alongside a river, where everything is damp?

MOSQUITOES!! In my “check” above, I forgot to even think about insect repellant.  So here I am, walking along the trail, looking at the washed out stream, and trying to walk as fast as I can, if that would help, to not think about mosquitoes.

I find a few places where I might be able to drift a fly.  I stop at those places. Immediately, my bare arms, wrist, face, hair, and ears are covered with blood sucking mosquitoes.  It’s muggy out, and I’m sweating.  Now I’ve got sweat drops running down my face, while mosquitoes are trying to bite and suck my blood on other parts of my face.   And I get no hits to my nymph.

I also want to wade across a part of the stream, where just a couple of weeks ago, I could wade.  Forget about it tonight. The water level is simply too high.  The water is also muddy… and those darn mosquitoes.. I decide to try one more cast, but my fly gets snagged in a tree stump in the water.  I have to break the fly off to retrieve my line.

Screw this.  This is not turning out very well at all, and I decide to return to my  vehicle, and perhaps spend the rest of the time before dark, scouting around for some other places to try another day.

I get into my vehicle with my waders still on.  I drive away. All of a sudden, I feel something stinging the inside of my leg, near my knee.   Yes, somehow, a wasp managed to fall down in between my jeans and my waders, and stung me through me jeans.

Man, this is turning out to be a bad day!!

I put up with the sting, every so often I can feel it get worse, and begin to throb.  Then it subsides while I’m driving along.  It eases up, and I decide to head north of town, where there was less rain the other day, and while driving around, I find a road that I never have been up before.  And I can see a bridge.

I ignore the “No Parking” signs – it’s pretty obvious that others park here often, and check out the water under the bridge.  I think to myself, that if my son had made it to Orangeville this evening, he and I could be listening to some great jazz music right now, at the Blues and Jazz festival.  Hell, I could even be there myself, listening to some great jazz – but without my son, I think I’d just prefer to be fly fishing, alone.

I check out the water flowing under the bridge.  Immediately upstream, it is obvious there is a deep hole, with a nice current flowing through.. and there are fish rising.  I don’t even know what river I am fishing.  I haven’t checked the maps yet, but I suspect it was some upper portion of the Nottawasaga River.  I’ll check that out later.
I forget my glasses and can’t tie on a #16 dry fly – it’s almost dusk. I reach for something  a little bigger – a dry “Flightless Adams” that was tied up by Bob VanAmburg.  First cast, and something tiny tries to attack my fly.

15 minutes later, I hooked, landed and released a couple of small chub and a couple of small pretty brookies, all between 6 and 8 inches.

Ok, so they weren’t big bruisers – but it was still nice.. and the mosquitoes weren’t so bad… then dark fell, and it was time to get my vehicle out of that “No Parking” zone, and head home, to reflect on whether or not it was a “good day” or a “bad day.”