Find a fly, catch a fish.

Note: this post is inspired by a question posed by Nova Scotia fly fishing Guru Matt Dort on the subject of finding flies while fishing and using them. Thanks Matt @sharkeyd79

About 15 years ago, my wife and I decided to take a trip to South-Western Alberta as she had never been there before. Of course I had to bring my fly fishing gear. I packed up my 4 wt, some flies, some streamside necessities and we flew to Calgary. It was June thankfully.

Our first stop was Calgary and we stayed downtown. I didn’t think I’d do any fishing or even think about going until realizing that there was a flyshop literally across the street from the hotel. On our post dinner walk, we went into the shop and I was totally glad I did. A very nice gentleman talked to me about the Bow River, the rivers & lakes in Kananaskis country and all of the wonderful National Park fishing in Banff and Jasper. We talked for at least an hour and after purchasing some nymphs and tippet, we headed back to the hotel.

The next morning I headed down to the Bow on my own. The guy at the shop had given me a bunch of spots to check out so I could try my luck. Like very other part of Canada, people jealously guard their fishing spots and this post shall be no different. Sufficed to say that if you ever fish in the Bow in Calgary during spring runoff, make sure you bring some sink tips and big streamers and nymphs. While I had no luck other than a huge smack that cut my leader (that was too light), I had no luck. It was pretty awesome to be fishing in the heart of a major city in such a beautiful river.

The next day we headed to Kananaskis country, not far from where the ’88 Winter Olympic downhill skiing was held. My goal when we went to Alberta was to catch my personal Alberta “grand-slam.” I wanted to catch a natural Westslope Cutthroat, a natural mountain Rainbow and, the super aggressive Bull trout (yes I know it’s technically a char…). As we meandered around Kananaskis, we decided to head South as I’d read some great things about the cutthroat fishing in the Linvingstone River. Unfortunately I didn’t take any pictures of the river but it is beautiful. A true freestone river filled with glacial runoff and we had got there right when trout season opened. This is when, unfortunately, I had my first experience with the guy people warned me about when I start fly fishing.

While not important to this story, there’s no reason to be a prick to other anglers. Honestly, I can’t find a REAL reason in any way shape or form. So there I was, a true fly fishing neophyte in one of the most beautiful places in the world, and this guy comes along with his wife and dog. While my wife was sitting by the car reading (and getting eaten by fire ants…), this guy throws a stick 3 feet from my line and his dog jumps in the river after it! “Really?” I asked. I thanked him sarcastically for being so nice and he just mumbled at me. Then he ties on a fly, casts to where I was fishing and catches an 18″ cutthroat. By this point I’m a little upset and gather my kit and leave. I had it in mind to throw a rock into that pool but there was no point in making a bad situation worse. Another day without a fish…

Casting for Grayling on a stocked Alberta Lake.

After a few more days in Kananaskis, we headed North to Jasper, past Lake Louise and the beautiful Moraine Lake, through and Banff, past the Columbia Icefields and into Jasper. My goal was amended in order to maintain some semblance of sanity and all I wanted to do now was hook a fish, let alone catch one. So we settled into our cabin and I continued to do a map recce of where we would go tomorrow. Thankfully, one of the Maligne River trail parking areas was only a 15 minute drive from where we were staying. After getting there the next afternoon, we hiked a few kms into the river. It was in an absolutely stunning location with the glacial blue water running down from Maligne Lake South of where we were. I was told by multiple people that I should use a size 8 or 10 Prince’s nymph on this river but I hadn’t started tying yet and bought the last 2 at the shop in Jasper.

I scanned the river for pools like I had on the Grand and found a great spot right beside a huge boulder. I sat low behind the boulder and cast across the current trying to find the seam under the boulder. On my third cast, I snagged the rock and lost Prince’s nymph #1. I tied my last one on and cast in a similar position but with less weight. After 2 or 3 casts, I had one of the hardest strikes I’d ever felt. The fish screamed across the river and settled under a branch, after about 15 minutes, I brought the nice rainbow to hand, snapped a pic and let it go.

A few casts later, bad luck struck with a vengeance. When you’re standing in water that is barely above freezing, the worst thing that could probably happen is to have a split develop in the foot of your waders. I was standing there trying to act tough (because I didn’t want to leave!) and my wife literally asked why my lips were turning blue. While mild hypothermia is nothing to joke about, I had to keep fishing as I had no idea when I’d ever get this opportunity again. That’s when crisis number 2 happened. I had move upstream from the boulder mentioned earlier in order to see if there were any fish holding upstream from the boulder. I had caught some trout in waters like this on the Credit and was curious if there would be any hiding where the current was broken. I could see about 4 fish darting in and out of a hiding spot just below the upstream side of the boulder. Perfect. Unless I was careless, I wouldn’t lose anymore flies. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t see a branch bobbing up and down from below where they were facing the current. On my second cast I got hung up. Like the newbie fool that I was, I didn’t know the difference (and still kinda don’t) between a branch and a fish. I tried everything I knew including trying to straighten the hook. Nothing worked and, although I tried to be gentle, I snapped the line. Last Prince’s nymph lost. Crap.

As I stood on the bank trying to figure out what to do, I figured I’d try a beadhead wooly bugger as it’s always caught fish. 15 minutes of casting it on a 4wt led to many near misses on the back of my head. I figured I’d try something knew and went to tie on a little nymph I had in my rather sparse box. That’s when my wife said “Why haven’t you tried to get your fly out of the tree?”

Not knowing what she was talking about, I turned around and looked up and there was a #10 Prince’s nymph drifting in the wind. It had the halo of the sun behind it like it had been sent to me by some divine intervention. I quickly pulled it down, cut the line off and put it in my pocket and tied the fly on. 2 casts later I the Rainbow below smacked my fly even harder than the last fish. It raced upstream like the water was slack, leaping and dancing on the water as it criss-crossed from the far bank to the boulder, to the fallen trees downstream, back to the boulder and on again. 10 minutes of fierce fighting later it finally came to hand. It wasn’t the biggest fish I’d ever caught but, at the time it was the one I was most proud of. The moral of the story, if you find a fly, use it. Someone must have been catching something with it and it’s there for a reason!