British Columbia 2008

[MuskieBait]

This trip took place between Aug 7 to Aug 25, 2008

Day 0 (August 7th)

I left work at 12pm on with huge anticipation. It's going to be a great trip with new places to fish, new fish to catch, more distance travelled than before, two dinosaur side trips and a visit to two friends of mine in Calgary.

Looking out of the departure gate window, the Toronto weather foreshadowed the little bit of gloomy weather for the rest of the trip.



Faced with a severe weather warning, all the passengers were anticipating a rough take off, except for my two seat neighbours who seemed to enjoy sharing personal pilot stories of flying small planes in dangerous situations. The pilot of the plane didn't make it any easier on us, insisting to let us know that we were the third last flight before this 767 goes into retirement.

I arrived exhausted in Vancouver at 22:20 (20min later than scheduled). It was a long day of travelling (including taking the subway and TTC to the airport). Kazu was already waiting for me impatiently :lol:

Day 1 (August 8th)

Somehow, my watch managed to find its way under my pillow and I missed the 5am alarm. Kazu woke me up at 6am with breakfast ready and our trip food supplies packed. Talk about a great host and guide!

After a very satisfying breakfast and a shower, we took two trips to load up the truck with all the fishing gear, food, sleeping bags...etc. We were running 2 minutes ahead of our scheduled departure time and began our trip at 7:58am. Today's destination was our base camp at Prince Geroge.

Strangely, there was very little traffic in Coquitlam during the Friday rush hour. We left the heavy skies behind and motored our way slowly and steadily toward our lunch stop in Cache Creek.

We winded our way into the Fraser Canyon, where the mighty Fraser carved deeply into the unforgiving rocks.



Passing the Canyon, we came to the town of Cache Creek. The environment in Cache Creek transported you from BC to the scene of a Western movie. There were bare sandy hills with tiny turfs of burnt grass clinging to life. Sparse growth of pine dotted the hills to provide some animals with a bit of shade.





A herd of mountain goats were pondering the hazards of a road crossing. The fate of the herd was unknown as we continued our way toward Prince George.

As quickly the deserts rushed up at us, it disappeared just as quickly. Fifteen minutes away from the last patch of sand, we were once again surrounded with dense growth of lodgepole pine and beech. We cut our way into Caribou country where the boreal forest here resembles the Canadian Shields from Ontario. In fact, I almost felt like being home!





On the way, we passed though 100 Mile House, a larger BC town than I would have thought. Hotels, motels and tourist businesses surrounded the main town area with the addition of a rodeo ground. We also passed though Williams Lake, the home town of Rick Hansen.

Originally, we have planned to visit Pinnacles Provincial Park in Quesnel. We arrived at 18:00 in at the trail head of the park and were greeted with a Bear Warning. I was hoping to see the unique hoodoos from this area and to go shutter crazy. However, it was not worth the risk of a late evening 45 min hike into bear country, especially when neither of us had bear sprays. We still have an hour to go toward Prince George and a long drive tomorrow. So we decided to cancel the hike and got a motel room in Prince George. Staying true to our last year’s journey, we had pizza on our first night in Prince George. Thunderstorms were predicted for the overnight. While Kazu settled in for the night, I stayed up for a while longer to support our Canadian Olympic athletes.

Day 2 (August 9th)

We woke up to a chilly morning. There must have been a 10 degrees temperature change from the 30+ C evening to the mid-teens temperature at 7am in the morning. We had leftover pizza for breakfast and began our journey to Terrace today. Terrace is only roughly 570km away, but this will be an 8 hours drive due to the nature of the winding highway containing numerous ascents and descents through the Coast Mountain Ranges closer to the Terrace area.

An hour later, we passed through the town of Vanderhoof, the geographical center of BC. Strangely, I missed both photo-op with the sign of Vanderhoof (although I did not insist much on the need to stop and photograph). Somehow, I was mesmerized with Fraser Lake and snapped a shot.



Halfway to the town of Smithers, we saw a bear at the side of the road. If I had known that this was the only bear we would see on this trip, I would have made a request for a stop to take some pictures.

The town of Smithers was one of the quaintest little towns I’ve seen so far. Settled at the base of the Seven Sisters, Smithers offered the road warriors a variety of gas stations, accomadations and eateries. Our only souvenir from Smithers was the half tank of gas we required.

A little past Simthers, we stopped to have lunch. Our typical lunch for the bulk of the trip consisted of hot dog buns, bananas and golden delicious apples. These were the food that required little ice to keep fresh and they provided us with enough energy to last at least a few hours. While Kazu was satisfied with the largely vegetarian diet, I found myself craving for a bit of protein. Wherever possible, I supplement my diet with corn dogs, chicken strips or wings and potato wedges from 7-Eleven, or a small burger at a fast food joint.

About 5 hours into our drive to Terrace, we saw our first glimpse of the Skeena River. Last summer, the Skeena suffered a flood after a winter of heavy snow accumulations. The guiding companies had a disasterous season on the Skeena due to high, muddy conditions on the river. This summer, the Skeena was flowing lower and clearer. There was also an estimated 2.8 million sockeye salmon returning to the Skeena this year, a number that almost doubled the original prediction.

We arrived in Terrace about 30 minutes ahead of schedule. We checked into our motel for the night at 15:30pm. After unloading the necessary gear into our motel room, we hurried into Kazu’s jeep and charged to the Kitimat River with huge anticipation.

Upon arriving the river, we took a look at our fishing spot. It was a back eddy immediately next to the highway.



With keen eagle eyes, I spotted the first chum salmon swimming lazily into and out of the slow water. I had a gold metal performance running back to the truck and achieved my personal best time getting into my waders and boots. However, I missed qualifying for the float rod rigging categories.

We made our way carefully down the stabilizing wall and splashed into the shallows of the back eddy. We fished for the chum salmon with flies and spoons under the float. However, our twitching technique did not aggravate them enough to initiate any aggressive hits. Kazu made the executive decision to fish an upstream riffle/run where he had caught fish before.

I think it took me all of 5 drifts to hook up into a strong fish at our new location. The fish started out strong but didn’t endure to the finish line. We were not surprised to see a mature male well into spawning colours. The surprised was that this salmon was snagged in the gill plate and it was barely hooked. I didn’t come to BC to snag salmon, and snagging the invisible fish in a large river with a quick flow was almost impossible…well…almost.



We fished this area some more and didn’t snag or hook into another fish. I managed to lose Kazu's bunny fly though. Kazu returned to the back eddy while I spotted a few chum salmon hanging below a small riffle. I tied on one of my own small pink rabbit/UV dub streamer. There was a male salmon chasing what I assume to be a female round and round the pool. My game plan was to flash that gaudy pink/violet fly in his face as much as I can. I was hoping for a smashing hit. I took quite a bit of persistence. In truth, I almost gave up. After 15min of casting and twitching the float rig, I saw the male open and shut his mouth on my fly and I made no mistake on the setting the hook. This male was definitely spunkier than the last one and it was a bit of a handful trying to keep it from running into the main current. Even after it was netted, it made a revengeful jump and almost slash my face with its mighty teeth. At last, I held my first legal caught chum salmon in awe of its strength and beauty.



With the chum salmon conquered, I was looking for my first pink salmon. I returned to the back eddy where Kazu had caught pink salmon by the dozen on a previous trip last fall. We were supposed to be fishing the peak of the run this year however, the timing could be better. The majority of the Skeena area pink salmon runs on the odd year. As remote as the odds might sound, we read report of catches in the Kitimat around the high tide periods of the day. It is now about a hour from the 19:00 high tide and we spotted three pink salmon running in and out of the back eddy. Kazu was the first to tempt a male pink into hitting his rabbit fly. A while later, had a female pink salmon snaking behind my spoon as it near shore. I quickly made repeated casts back into the eddy and was rewarded with an awesome spectacle of slashing hits on my pink spoon until a final hit and a miss. I was a little disappointed that I messed up the hook set. However, the sight of that hit is forever etched into my memory. It might well be as memorable as Phelps’ record swims.

It started raining at 19:00. Cold rain splattered on our rain jacket as we continued to deny the lack of fish activity. However, by 20:30, we had enough and headed to town for a hot plate of KFC.

As Kazu browse the net, I caught up on the day’s results of the Golden Boy. Before 00:00, we were both dreaming about what might come the next day.

Day 3 (August 10th)

I woke up at 7:30am to take a morning shower. When I got out, Kazu was already brewing some fresh coffee and making toast. I caught another glimpse of the Olympics results before we left the door to explore the Kitimat.

We were fishing the middle section of the fishable Kitimat last evening. According to the fishing reports we read, the fish might find difficulty traversing some of the shallow areas. We sought to fish the downstream areas near the river mouth in search for greater number of fish…and perhaps my first pink salmon.

We took a short hike to a location downstream of the salmon hatchery on the Kitimat. The river here is shallow and swift, no more than 4-5 feet in many places. It created ideal chum salmon spawning grounds. Indeed, we saw countless chum salmon pairing in this area.

I thought it would be fun to baptize my 10-wt fly rod with the water of the Kitimat. I had not cast this heavy rod prior to the trip. I warned Kazu to stay well clear of me when I made my virgin casts.

Surprisingly, the rod casted rather well on the first few tries. When I was comfortable with the casting rhythm, I finally attached my chum winner fly from yesterday to the end of the leader (There was no way I was going to test cast a new rod with a hook on the end of the line!). I made repeated drifts in the river. My fly was fishing on the bottom at the 4-foot depth. Finally, I felt a tap and set the hook. I had a rather small fish jumping and splashing at the surface. Kazu came over to net what I had assumed to be a cutthroat trout, based on the silvery sides of the fish. Upon closer inspection, it was my first dolly varden char, the fly hooked on the top of the head. Wonderful! I just snagged my first dolly varden. I was going to photograph this beautiful fish anyways, but as fate would have it, the tiny char managed to escape our hold through the large holes in Kazu’s salmon net. Oh well, it was snagged anyways.

A few more dozen drifts later found me attached to a solid swimmer. The fish had intentions of taking me into the main current. However, it was not a serious test for my 10-wt rod, not to mention the experience of the angler. Ha! Might I be so bold to gloat about my first salmon on the fly rod so early! Even so, the rod performed flawlessly and the reel played out line ever so gingerly, easing just enough to cushion the 10lb leader and providing enough stopping power to tire the fish. It took a few moments of giving, and a few more moments of taking, before the fish protested angrily in Kazu’s net. As ugly as it appeared, complete with a healed lamprey scar and rotting tail, it was my first salmon on the fly rod. The bonus was that this fish approved my fly design. Behold and relish the moment of success!



Kazu and I explored a good 100 yards of this riverbank. Kazu did most of the exploring. I believed in working an area thoroughly with various flies, depths and retrieves. The morning was wearing on and our slow fishing allowed the protest of our stomach to appear louder than ever. We called it a morning and strolled back to the truck for lunch.

Following lunch, we decided to investigate the salmon run on the Skeena River. The strong run of sockeye was very attractive to me. I might just have a decent chance hooking into my first sockeye. Kazu did warn me though “Sockeye don’t bite in the rivers.”

On the way to the Skeena, we waved goodbye to the guardian of Kitimat.



We arrived at the parking lot of Ferry Island. Our fishing location was the tip of Ferry Island where the Skenna River flows around this recreational park. There was already a brigade of spey anglers lining the shore, pelleting the river with their long spey casts. Kazu decided to fish downstream of these purist, well away from their long drifts. I tried to play in the slower downstream waters as well, but my sinking line was dragging bottom in this low gradient stretch. So I decided to play amongst the spey anglers.

There was little room to squeeze into the well-established line formation. My only choice was to take the #1 upstream position. Wading above my waist in the strong flow of the Skeena, it was a great balancing act between anchoring my feet against rocks and lifting my arms high enough to make effective casts. Somewhere in between the circus acts, and after a couple hours of casting and losing flies, I actually managed to get a fish on the line!

I had seen others hooked and played sockeye salmon while I wait my turn. Sockeyes tended to skyrocket into the air following the hookset. My fish felt decent-sized but it elected to remain subsurface for the entire fight. In the strong current, it had came close to taking me into the backing. However, I managed to apply just the right pressure to tease it back toward me. Finally, I manoeuvred the fish between the well-worn rocks of the Skeena and beached the fish on the rocky bar. Sitting at my feet was a beautiful silvery male pink salmon! My first pink salmon and nothing better and a humpy male! Another fish fell to one of my own ties...a pink/purple marabou streamer!



Kazu was oblivious of my victory. In fact, it was a couple of hours later that he came by to browse my camera to find out my catch. Fishing was slow for the both of us and we decided to call it an afternoon. We had cup noodles and an apple for dinner. I would end up spending more time at the river chasing for my first sockeye while Kazu admired my persistence on shore. Before long, the light faded and we settled into the truck for our first of many sleeps camping in our vehicle.

Day 4 (August 11th)

My plan was to wake up at 5am this morning, to beat the locals to their honey hole at the tip of Ferry Island, and to take the best spot to drift the current seam for a better chance at the sockeye.

I woke up cold and to the sound of rain. The sky was still dark. I looked around and didn’t see a car or truck around. I reset my alarm for 6am.

As quickly as I closed my eyes, I found them opened to the annoying beeps of my watch. Darn! I should have set the alarm for 5:30am. All around us were trucks and cars. So much for beating the local crowds, I sighed.

Undeterred, I again made world record time suiting up and almost matched Bolte’s performance running to the river. I might just as well strolled at a leisurely pace. The river was lined with anglers already.

I took the same spot as yesterday and cast until my arm was numb. Everyone else were landing a handful of sockeye. I identified the ringleader and the master of this sockeye cult. It was a bit intimidating when I approached his holiness. Everyone else seemed to bow down to his sockeye ways. To my surprise, he was quite the talker and a teacher. He said my sinking line was too light. I need something in the 250 grain to take my fly down to the bottom in the strong current. I quickly thanked him for the enlightenment. Since Kazu was still in deep slumber, I continued to try my luck until he woke up and delivered breakfast at the river side.

After refuelling the body, we decided to comply to our original plan. Today was the day we would hike into bear country in pursuit of my first dolly varden. We put more gas into the car and set off for New Aiyansh. We followed the famous Kalum River until it routed west away from our road. A while later, we were transported to some strange landscape. Here was a land of lichen-covered black boulders. Ferns invaded any cracks in the earth if they could afford at least a few hours of daylight. Larger cracks supported small trees that clung to a thin layer of topsoil. This was the site of a lava field following 800 years of succession. It was relatively new in geological time. Indeed, the landscape looked almost uninviting.



Our river once flowed in the valley now covered by this magma formation. The river has since rerouted its course over the lava rocks. The Nass people called this stream the New Waters.

We finally reached our access point. It was here that I met Roberto. Roberto was fishing at the access point for trout. I assumed correctly that he was targeting the dolly varden char. Our conversation revealed that Roberto belonged to the Nass aboriginal people. He has special rights to harvest trout at the access point while all others can only fish downstream. Roberto has never fished downstream. We were worried about bears and Roberto volunteered to be our protector in exchange for a new fishing sport. It seemed like a fair trade, so our pair suddenly turned into a trio.

As we skipped, hopped and often tip-toed atop sharp lava rocks, Roberto shared his life history with us. He is a member of the Nass people. He belongs to the Killer Whale tribe. At 50 something years young, he has numerous grandchildren. He met his wife from a gathering similar to a Pow Wow. She belonged to the Raven tribe. He craved gold and silver and the occasional bone and wood pieces. Most importantly, he taught us that two rocks hit against each other was much louder than the bear bell that Kazu carried. I quickly found myself two rocks.

Our trail soon took us into the dense forest. We hiked along the narrow trail while noticing an abundance of eagle feathers. There must be a nest somewhere. I helped Roberto collect feathers for his headdress.

At last, we arrived at a deep pool. Roberto was ready to fish and he was the first to toss in a bottom bouncing rig with fresh chinook salmon skein as bait. It only took about 5 seconds before Roberto was hooked up. It was a dolly varden! My eyes lit up. Today could be the day. Roberto invited the fish to breakfast and changed his rigged to a float rig. I was still setting up my bottom bouncing rig when he brought in a pan-sized rainbow trout. Finally, I was ready to fish and I put on some cured coho eggs that I brought from Ontario (Don’t tell the custom people that!). My roe was ignored while Roberto was getting hits. He said fresh chinook skein works best and offered me some. I accepted the offer like a thirsty desert traveller. The skein was magical. I soon brought in a small rainbow trout. However, it appeared that the pool has given up its last fish. So we decided to head further downstream for some new waters.

Kazu has fished this river before and had seen grizzly bears here. We were ever cautious of any bear signs. Strangely, we found little signs of bear activity. About 15min later, we found ourselves at a nice pool emptied by a deep run. Roberto was again the first to make a cast. Just like before, the first cast yield a feisty dolly varden of keeper size. I hurried to set up my float rig, but not before Roberto added two more dolly varden to his breakfast. It took me only a couple of casts to get a tug. I set the hook into a spirited fish and brought it in easily on the float rod. Kazu netted my first dolly varden for me with pleasure. What a beautiful fish they were.





We fished in this deep run for the next 45 minutes. Roberto must have caught a dozen chars while I fared much poorly at 3 fish landed. My biggest fish was about 12” long. It was brilliantly adorned though.



The cloud soon shielded the sun and small sprinkle of rain dimpled the water surface. Roberto suddenly yelled “I think this is a big one!” as I turned to see a big fish erupted. It appeared to be a salmon. I dropped my rod and prepared to be the net guy. Unfortunately, the fish broke the line 2 minutes into the battle. The fish was estimated at about 15lbs.

It started to rain harder and Roberto decided to call it a day. Kazu and I came and conquered, so we were happy to begin the return hike. On the way back, Roberto joked that it was good he didn’t have to carry a large fish out. We collected a few more eagle feathers and enjoyed each other’s story. At last, we set foot on lava rocks again and the sky cleared. We took a short break to take some pictures.





Somehow, we managed to get slightly lost. However, with the power lines within sight, it was just a matter of time we return to civilization. Back at the access, Roberto and I parted after we exchanged email address. He affixed his fishing rod onto his bicycle and rode toward New Aiyansh. Kazu and I hopped in the truck and returned to Terrace. On the way back, we stopped at a waterfall upstream of our access to take a few pictures and marvelled at the crystal clear water.



In Terrace, we found a tackle shop where I purchased a new 300 grain sink tip line. I also bought a few other fishing items and the bill set me back $90. Ouch! I hope it will help me catch a sockeye.

Back at the Skeena, I spooled up the new sink tip line. The number of people on the river gave me little choice but to fish downstream. The water was too slow and the line was snagging on bottom. I had to cut back about 10 feet of line. I figure that I would give me something like a 250 grain line. I guess my brain was really on vacation. My fly line had 30 feet of sink tip that is 300 grain. Cutting back 10 feet of it would mean something more akin to fishing a 200 grain. Long story short, my line was now a little too light.

When I realized my mistake, I made the best of it. I started fishing with small split shots to weight down my flies. I did have a brief hook up with a sockeye, one that I thought was a snag. Even with my best effort, the sockeye salmon continued to elude me. The sun was setting on another day. I secretly prayed that tomorrow will bring new hope and slower river conditions.

Day 5 (August 12th)

At 5am, I got up to another early morning of sockeye fishing. Even in the dark, I could make out the shadows of two trucks parked next to our wheeled sleeping quarters. I thought to myself “Two cars, I can still get the 3rd best position along the current seam.” With the waders and boots barely on, I ran down to the river while trying to snap on the shoulder harness buckles. As I hop along the rock bar, I almost lost balance and fell when my mind was focused on rigging up the rod on the go. My efforts was rewarded with the 2nd best fishing spot along the seam! All the trouble seemed justified. Since it was still dark, BC fishing regulations forbid us to fish until we could at least see some colour in the sky. The next 30min was made less agonizing with the sharing of fishing stories and techniques.

At last, it was time to make our first casts. It took many casts before our Sockeye Master hooked up his first fish, which was actually not a sockeye. It was an average sized Skeena steelhead registering about 10lbs. Up and down the river, people started landing the odd steelhead and coho salmon. Sockeye were surprisingly absent in the creel count today. At about 6am, I was stripping in my line at the end of the drift when something tug back. It immediately skyrocketed and I missed yet another sockeye salmon! It was another hour of intense casting and drifting before I felt a small tug on the line at the middle of a drift. I thought I was hung up on bottom since my fly line stopped dead. I was just stripping line to get my line tight when something tug back. Oh! Fish on!

This fish splashed on the surfaced quite a bit. It didn’t behaved all that much like a sockeye. On my 10-wt rod, it offered a few short but strong runs. I thought my rod was over-powering the fish just a bit too much, but the fish decided to show me who was boss. It refused to come to hand and stubbornly idled around a large boulder, looking for the next opportunity to cut my line. I had to play the fish carefully to clear the line off the top of the boulder. Finally, the fish gave one last burst of energy before surrendering. It wasn’t a sockeye since it had spots on the back. I looked a bit like a steelhead but its tail wasn’t fully spotted. The identification of this fish was a bit difficult. However, I think it was safe to say that this was my first Skeena coho salmon. At 6-7lbs, this was about the average coho in the Skeena system.



Following the bonus fish, I returned to my sockeye hunt. I lost a few flies, so I was confident that I was fishing close to the bottom. As my fly supplies dwindled, so did my hope for a sockeye. I was down to the last salmon fly when I tied on a small pink bucktail streamer that imitated the plankton sockeye loved to feast on. It was now close to 10am. Kazu arrived by the river bank just in time to see me hook up to a smaller fish. The fish jumped once and it looked silvery. I thought it was a cutthroat trout. To my surprise, it was a sea run bull trout!



With Kazu nearby, he replenished my fly box with some of his bunny flies. I had renewed hope that something good could happen. People were once again catching the odd sockeye and the Sockeye Master had landed 4 sockeyes in short time. I continued to put my arm to the test as the 10-wt rod was waved repeatedly to increase the number of drifts at a given time. I was hungry for food but my hunger for a sockeye was much stronger. I might have fished until I collapsed with exhaustion. However, I finally surrendered. That moment of my trip was a sad on indeed. I accepted the fact that sockeyes in rivers do not hit, even if they were chrome as the silver dollars and only a short distance from the ocean. The truth is that most sockeyes were lined, or flossed, or however eloquent way you liked to describe the only technique to snag these non-biting fish. At 13:00, I decided that it was not meant to be. We were better off to conclude our Skeena fishing trip, hit the road early and return to Prince George. It was a solemn farewell to the beautiful region. The Kitimat and Skeena has treated me very well and I was grateful. I was just a little disappointed that sockeyes don’t bite in rivers. I pondered that thought for the rest of the ride back to Prince George. I was distracted for a brief moment as we took a break near the rest area. It was too beautiful and I just had to take a couple of pictures. The cloudy conditions made it tough getting good shots though.







It was about 21:00 when we rolled into our motel. While Kazu fell asleep quickly, I stayed up watching the Olympics and tried not to think about the sockeyes.

Day 6 (August 13th)

We had breakfast at A&W while we wait for our a load of laundry. Right on schedule, we were once again on the road by 10am. We had a 5 hours drive along a scenic route to the town of Tumbling Ridge. I could hardly contain my excitement for what was to come.

We were skirting along the western frontiers of the Rocky Mountains. True to their names, most peaks were bare and they exposed the chronicles of natural history for all to see.



The road followed the valley of the Pine River until we reached the area of Tumbler Ridge. The Pine River appeared much lower than last summer. We were uncertain whether our stream would be too shallow to fish.

Finally, we reached our access point to a series of trails. We would be hiking to a site of natural treasure. Remembering what our native friend taught us, I grabbed two rocks to make some noise.

Fortunately, we made it to our destination without any bear or mountain lion encounter. Before I rigged up my rod, there was something more exciting to me than fishing a new location on a stream. They were fossilized dinosaur footprints to be explored!

This area contained footprints and trackways from three kinds of dinosaurs: theropods (meat-eaters), ornithropods (plant-eaters) and ankylosaurs (armoured dinosaurs).

Theropod prints had three sharp toe imprints made by their claws. The width of the print is narrower than it is long.





Ornithropod hindfeet had three blunt toes. The width of the print is wider than it is long. Occassionally, there is also a smaller hand prints left in front of the hind prints.



The hind feet of ankylosaur had four toes and the print of the front feet resembled a crescent moon with five toes.





And just a few of the prints that form the ankylosaur trackway.



After the hour of fun photographing and walking with these prints, it was time to fish again.

Kazu had already landed a small bull trout. As I approached his location, he had another bull trout chased his nymph. This spot sure looked promising.

I made numerous drifts with my caddis. However, it did not receive any attention. So I decided to nymph with a prince nymph. I received numerous tiny hits but nothing hooked. After a while, Kazu decided to head upsteam while I stuck to this pool.

In between casting, I noticed a fallen piece of bedrock that was lying on the shore. Something caught my eye and I went to inspect it closely. To my surprise, there was a lone fossil print on this bedrock. I emailed the museum and I’m currently waiting for their reply to see whether this was a new find and if it was of any significance. It looked to be a theropod print.



Kazu came back shortly and said there were no fish in the second pool upstream. So we decided to hike back to the truck to try another fishing location.

The second location was familiar one. We had fished this stream before and it had produced numerous grayling, bull trout and mountain whitefish. However, the spring flood must have altered the structure of the pool. Last summer, wood debris lined both sides of this pool to channel the water toward the two outlets of the pool. This year, the flood pushed the downed tree trunks and branches against the outlets to form two debris dams. The currently had slowed down due to both the low water condition and the formation of these dams. The water also appeared deeper. However, we decided to give it a try anyways. I replaced the prince nymph with an elk hair caddis and made a couple of casts into one of the outlets. My fly quickly received attention from a decent fish that refused it at the last moment. I continue to fish the elk hair caddis until a quick surface take resulted in a solid hookset into a 12” arctic grayling. These fish were simply stunning.



I fished the outlet for a while longer but it did not produced any more fish. So I turned my attention to the main pool. Kazu was nymphing on the fly rod and he had already caught another small bull trout. I decided to lay my fly rod for a temporary rest and rigged up the spinning rod. Kazu provided me with a small plastic lure and a while later, I had a hard hit with a strong fish on the 6lb test. My leader was only 2lb and I took all the precaution to land this feisty 14” bull trout. It is a good specimen from this small stream.



I fished with the plastics for about 30min without another hit. So I changed my spinning rod to the fly rod and changed my caddis to a prince nymph.

Meanwhile, Kazu went to give my grayling hole another try. He said he tempted a big bull trout out of the undercut with a stonefly nymph, but it came off the hook.

Similar to before, I had numerous short hits on the prince nymph but no solid hook ups. Kazu said they are likely mountain whitefish. Indeed, I saw a few mountain whitefish hitting the white dental floss wrapping where my fly line and fly leader connection was made. The dental floss was used to make the line pass though smoothly without getting caught in the guide. This gave me an idea.

I replaced the prince nymph with a #20 griffth gnat. It received attention on the first cast and I missed a small whitefish. I would miss a hit or lose a fish on the tiny fly every other cast. I was a bit disappointed that a 12” mountain whitefish came unbuttoned. It would have been my personal best mountain whitefish. I took consolation from a small 7” model. I had just accomplished the trifecta for a second time!



Since 20:30 hours had arrived, we decided to hike out before we lose light. We bid farewell to our magical waters and hope that some day in the future, we could again return to this beautiful stream.

Back in the truck, Kazu made the decision to drive back to Prince George that night. I had doubts that we could arrive in Prince George, but I gave Kazu the go ahead if he is feeling confident enough to drive. We stopped in Chetwynd for some chicken dinner and was on the road again at 22:30 hours. At the end, we decided to stop at a rest area around Lake McLeod for the night. We were only about 1.5 hours from Prince George so we were not too far behind schedule.

When we were rearranging the truck for the night’s sleep, I noticed the clear sky and the darkness around me. I would stay up until 03:00 to add 5 more new constellations to my photo album.

Day 7 (August 14th)

When we woke up at 08:00, it was already bright and sunny. I was a little groggy from only having 5 hours of sleep. Kazu, however, was ready to go. After a short breakfast, we steamed beyond Prince George back to Coquitlam.

Somewhere between Prince George and 100 Mile House, I asked Kazu “Do you want to fish the Thompson this afternoon?” Kazu replied “It’s up to you Ken.” We had a lot of fun during the caddis hatch last summer on the Thompson. I made the executive decision to spend our afternoon on that great river since we were a day ahead of schedule.

Arriving in Cache Creek again, the landscape would still captivate me.







It was just a short drive to our fishing location. Stepping out of the car, we were greeted by the sweltering heat and the arid breeze. I had to change into a pair of shorts in fear of getting heat exhaustion in my neoprene waders. I made sure that there was a bottle of water in the backpack.

Since it was only 16:30, there was still several hours until the caddis hatch. I saw some big fish splash on the surface. There was also a smorgasbord of grasshoppers by the bank. It was natural that I tied on a foam hopper to imitate the abundant food source.

The trout were not interested though. While Kazu fished the caddis, I rotated through my arsenal of hoppers, caddis and gnats. I even tied on a dark dun pattern when I saw a dark mayfly on the water, albeit unmolested. Ha! I should have taken a hint there. We stuck to dry flies since the serenity of the river was frequently disturbed by violent surface splashed. I could only estimate that these fish weight over 8lbs. The splashes appeared deliberate, in a fashion that resembled trout chasing emergers to the surface. I tried caddis emergers of all size to no avail.

It is now getting a little darker as 19:00 past. There were little signs of the caddis hatch and Kazu was found admiring the river from shore. I was not about to retire yet. Since the surface activity was negligible, the fly line received an addition of a sink tip and the prince nymph again graced the end of the leader. His majesty showed power as he reigned over the instinct of a strong fish a few drifts later. The fish was summoned just a couple of feet from shore. Due to the rocky structure near shore, it took extra care to keep the rod tip up at all times. The fish had not surfaced once and I could only guess that it was a rainbow trout. Kazu slid the net under the great fish and we marvelled over 18” of spectacular emerald, crimson and gold.





Somewhere between the netting and the photography, the line had snapped and I lost my prince nymph. I had two more in my reserve, but I felt their royal presence was best saved for a later time. I selected a golden stonefly nymph I had tied back in Ontario.

With renewed hope, Kazu returned to the river for a few more casts. I continued to fish along the shore, casting a few times before taking another step closer to Kazu’s location. Finally, I reached Kazu’s proximity without any hits. I studied the current a bit more closely and identified the proper direction where I should cast and drift. Two drifts later, I had a fish smacked the nymph on the slow strip. It was another fish of decent size and I was anticipating to net victim number two. Unfortunately, the hook dislodged somehow, leaving me a sense of regret that I was trying to release my net instead of minding the line. However, I was pleased that I had fooled the great trout when Kazu had laboured over this spot without any success.

We decided to end the evening on that note. Walking back to the parking, I had to stop and capture the beauty of this river in the fading light.



Just before we settle in for the night, Kazu said the big fish might have been salmon spawning in the river.

Day 8 (August 15th)

Waking up at 7am, our plan for today was to return to Coquitlam, but not before stopping at Hope for a Hail Mary chance on sockeye at the Fraser. Life is great when you wake up to a view like this!



After breakfast and filling up the truck, we’re on the road again. Along the way, I just couldn’t put the camera away. The mountains and deserts surrounding the Thompson River captivated all my attention.





We left the Cache Creek region and left the dry climate behind. Soon, we were surrounded by lodgepole pine forests again. On our way northward, I wanted a shot of the Fraser Canyon and missed two pullouts that would give me a chance to capture the unique landscape. I told Kazu that it would be awesone if we can stop on our way back to take some pictures. I had hoped that we could see Hell’s Gate in its full glory. At Hell’s Gate, the water in Fraser River passes through a narrow canyon, creating a dangerous rapid where few people had attempted to cross and survived. The volume of water that flows through this narrow is much greater than the water that flow down Niagara Falls on a per second basis.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a shot of the canyon without falling into a tourist trap (ie, paying for access to a viewing platform or a gondola ride. We decided that it was not worthed our time, so we pushed on.

Maybe I was meant to get a picture of the Fraser Canyon. When we cross over the Alexandra Bridge, I just happened to see a pull out area. Kazu stopped the truck and I ran to the bridge with my camera. Before I can take a picture of the Fraser, these carving deserved a few pictures of their own!



Finally, the Fraser Canyon around the bridge. This is the sight upstream.



Looking downstream, there was significantly more white water.



Back in the truck, I was excited with the up and coming chance at sockeyes. The drive appeared very long when anticipation ran high. At 2pm, we arrived in Hope. Before we began our fishing session, a quick lunch was in order.

Kazu had warned the way to the river could be slippery. A couple of times, I almost landed either on my bum or on my head. At the river bank, it was shoulder-to-shoulder fishing conditions. Most of the people here used bottom bouncing techniques to target sockeye and chinook salmon. We spoke to a few people and the fish reported were indeed a good number of sockeye and a few large king salmon.

The flow appeared strong but 1oz of lead was enough to bring the rig to the bottom and kept it bouncing without snagging the large boulders. I was using 15lb main line with a sliding pencil sinker. At the end of the 10lb fluorocarbon leader was a #2 hook with green yarn. There was little finesse required since the water only had 10” of visibility.

As I was rigging up, someone near me landed a sockeye. My hope was up. Kazu rigged up with a Croc spoon and he was aiming to revenge a king salmon that got away from him last fall. Once in a while, someone hooked up and landed a sockeye salmon. Unfortunately, even my last effort failed. Kazu did not get his king salmon but avoided the skunk by landing a northern pikeminnow. At about 6pm, just as we were about to leave, someone hooked up to a very large fish. It took him up and down the river. I noticed that they did not have a net, so I put down my rod and come to their assistance with Kazu’s net. When we finally get a look, it was a very large Chinook salmon! In fact, I had never seen one this size in person.

The fish was in the shallow and I went for the scoop. The fish would not fit in the net and managed to flip out. I was afraid the barbless hook would pop out, in similar fashion to my own lost chinook salmon from the Kitimat in 2007. I refused to be the responsible party so I jammed the net on bottom to stop the fish from flopping back into deeper water. The fish sat there and I gave the net a big, powerful sweep to push the fish up the rocky beach. Once, twice, thrice and finally, the fish was about 15 feet on dry grounds. Everyone was speechless…and then yells of exuberance broke the silence. Before our eyes laid a 40lb chinook salmon. In all our excitement, I had forgot to grab the camera to document this great fish. Kazu and I congratulated with lucky angler and they thanked us for the netting job. I was indeed my honour to see such a great fish. On that note, we called it a day.

Halfway home, we noticed a grocery that had fresh, wild sockeye salmon for sale. Coming this far to BC and being salmon season, I just had to purchase a fillet. I also saw a chunk of tuna that appeared very fresh (for BC standard). That night, I treated Kazu to some pan-fried salmon and seared tuna. Kazu had a great fly tying material selection at his home. I just had to tie a few #16 flying ants before going to bed.

Day 10 (August 17th)

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I was up before my 4:30am alarm. We had a quick breakfast and finished the last bit of packing. From today onwards, we’re back on the road. This is my last day in Vancouver as I would be heading back to Toronto from Calgary. We finally loaded the food and began our 45min drive to Chilliwack.

We arrived at the launch at 8:10am. We got a little lost in Chilliwack on our way to the launch. Our guide, Sasha, already had the boat on the water and greeted us with a warm welcome. Within minutes, we were on the water to our first spot.



The fishing tackle used today was Shimano Teramar rods with Penn International 30 VSX reels spooled with 50lb spectra braid. The leader was 3 feet of 80lb Dacron with a 5/0 hook. A 20-24oz pyramid sinker was clipped onto the line to hold the rig on bottom in the strong current. Our guide preferred fresh salmon and rotting salmon over other baits at this time of year. Whole salmon fillets from a 5-8lb sockeye were used. The hook rigged at one end of the fillet and the fillet was held secure by wrapping the line a few times around the bait. We had three rods all set up ready for our first sturgeon bite.



A sturgeon hit is slow and deliberate. They might suck on the bait a few times before committing or dropping it. On the other hand, short, jerky bites are likely pikeminnow picking bits off the fillet. Soon, we got pretty good at telling which ones were sturgeon and which ones were pikeminnow (our guide called them whitefish).

We had quite a few good hits but the fish never held on long enough before we go for a hookset. About 45min later, we finally had a hit where the guide asked us to hit it. I offered Kazu the first go at the fish, but Kazu sent the offer back to me. I picked up the rod from the holder and set the hook in one smooth action. Next, you should reel down to get rid of any slack and give it a second hookset. The rest of the fight is history.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hk9F8H5mjcU

The fish taped out 59” at the fork with an estimated weight of 55lbs. A big thanks to Kazu for recording that fight scene!



Okay…now it was Kazu’s turn for his first sturgeon.

We fished the same spot for another 20min to get another few bites but nothing serious enough to set the hook. Sasha decided to show us another spot.

Our second spot was set behind the tip of an island where two current met. We had numerous hits here and Kazu missed the hookset on one fish and had a fish on briefly before it came off. We also saw a large sturgeon jumped near shore. Although we were getting hits and misses, we didn’t manage a good hookup after 1.5 hours. We we’re off to a third spot to give it a go.

The spot that our guide had in mind was unfortunately occupied. So we went downstream to search for fishy waters. About 15min of boating later, our guide found a friend working some backwaters. They had a sturgeon on the line; so we decided to join them. Kazu and I watched them fight the 4’ sturgeon while Sasha sent out the rigs. It took a while for the scent trails to be established but the sturgeon started to investigate our baits. Kazu swung and missed another hookset while Sasha’s friend in the other boat hooked and landed another smaller sturgeon. Eventually, we got one good hit and Kazu laid the law on the fish like our Canadian women laying a smack down on fellow wrestlers. Indeed, this fish gave Kazu a huge struggle. Here was Kazu hard at work.



I tried for the life of me to figure out Kazu’s camera so I could film his tussle with the great white dino. However, I couldn’t read Japanese and I’d rather not delete any pictures off his camera by accident. I coached Kazu while Sasha rushed to pull up the rods and the anchor to chase the fish. This fish was making a quick escape to the main current and headed for some of the underwater snags. Somehow, our anchor found an old underwater cable and we were stuck. So while Sasha and I tried to get the boat free, Kazu was sweating buckets while fighting his biggest fish of this life.

We finally had the boat free. Now, we had to try to steer the fish away from some of the downed trees and logs that were in the water. We managed to narrowly avoid a nasty snag and succeeded in leading the fish toward the other shore where the bottom was more line friendly. This battle had now taken at least 30mins and Kazu was showing signs of wear. Luckily, so was the fish and it wasn’t too long later that we had it beached.

This fish measured 73” long and estimated to be at least 100lbs. Even with the three of us, it was difficult trying to control the brute for a picture.



Finally, it settled down for one quick pic.



And here was us chilling on the boat while Sasha revived the sturgeon for the release.



Congrats Kazu! Kazu said he would not fight a fish of that size in the future. I asked him what he would do in the future when we go to Mexico to target striped marlin. He answered “Electric reels”.

With an hour left, Sasha decided to give it a last go. It was also at this point that the clouds moved in and the sky darkened. When we had our lines back in the water, we started to see a few flashes of lightning. The rain soon followed but the storm came and went within 10 minutes. Right after the storm, we had a good hit. I went to set the hook and had a strong fish on for about 5 seconds before the hook came out. When we reeled in the bait, we found a pikeminnow impaled on the hook. During our conversations when we were waiting for a hit, Sasha said pikeminnow rips pieces of flesh off the salmon fillet by biting and twisting their bodies. Occasionally, they twist hard enough that they impale themselved onto the hook. Well, I had the fortune (or misfortune) to witness it that day. There was no way the hook could have found any skin on the sturgeon’s mouth with that pikeminnow covering the hook. We decided to call it a day after the missed hit.

Back on shore, we thanked Sasha for a great day. We came out to get our first sturgeon and came back with two great fish. While Sasha pulled his boat out, Kazu and I had our lunch. Soon, we were once again back on the road toward Princeton.

I fell asleep for a while and woke up to the sight of a beautiful river that ran beside the highway. This was a river Kazu and I was to visit this evening for some mountain whitefish. At about 5pm, we arrived at the fishing spot. What a beautiful freestone river it was! Better yet, it was surrounded by beautiful mountains.





There was a nice run that dumped into a deep pool as the river bends. We fished around the area and I had a fish rose on an elk hair caddis near the head of the pool. The fish was sitting behind a large boulder in the fast water. The fish didn’t rise again so we decided to fish around this area. Kazu fished in the pool with a golden stonefly nymph while I fished upstream in the run with a caddis, prince nymph and then a golden stonefly numph. I had a tap on the golden stonefly nymph and lost both the prince nymph and the stonefly after. With little action, Kazu again sat to admire the river. I decided to give the boulder a last try. I took extra care to make sure my caddis was drifting freely. It took several drifts to get the caddis in the right spot, but it only took that one drift for the fish to smack the fly! An aerial battle unfolded and the little rainbow could out flip any Olympic trampoline athlete. It was still jumping while I scooped it in the net. Somehow, neither Kazu nor I had a picture of the 7” beauty. Following the release, Kazu and I headed back to the truck.

Kazu decided that instead of Princeton, we should try to get as close to the Pendicton area as possible. By 8pm, we were in the area and there was still a bit of daylight left. Kazu pulled the truck off the highway and took us to a stretch of river further downstream from where we were fishing. Kazu offered to be the guide and left the rod in the car while I fished a great caddis hatch. There were lots of rises but most of the fish were too small to take in the whole fly. I hooked into two 5” rainbows before we lost daylight.

We finally stopped at a rest area where we made camp for the night. While we enjoyed a great cup noodle dinner, we listened to elk calling in the distant hills and admired the star studded skies.

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More to come...tomorrow...

[MuskieBait]

Day 11 (August 18th)

Our day started at 7am with a good breakfast. We had a 9-hour marathon drive toward Fernie. I wish I had taken more pictures on this leg of our trip. We passed through some very unique and beautiful country. But my memory on the camera was dwindling quickly. I still have 7 more days of traveling ahead and I couldn’t spare extra shots. I could attempt to describe to you some of what we saw, but even if I shown you the pictures, they would do the landscape no justice. I promise you, one day, I will return to take this journey again with the camera and snap pictures until my finger falls off!

Anyways, our route follows Highway 3 as it meandered between valleys and skirted the slopes of mountains. The road was specially steep and windy around Copper Mountain. However, the view was breathtaking.





Passing Princeton, we drove past Hedley into the Okanagan Valley. As expected, this ravine area were littered with vineyards, orchards and farmlands. The town of Keremeos resembled a series of road side fruit stands where fresh fruits and vegetables were placed on display. The river that paralleled the highway was the life blood of this region. If it wasn’t for this river, the farmlands would have long dried up.

Indeed, once the highway left the river, the desert environment enveloped us once again. This region, Chopaka, appeared even dried than the Cache Creek region. It had the reminiscence of a Western town completed with its own ghost town and rusted trailers. As we arrived in Osoyoos, brown crusted soil finally met lush vegetation. Osoyoos Lake created an oasis lined by palm trees (Yes! Palm trees in BC!) and pine stands. This resort town was full of life and a hang loose feeling. Life was wonderful here but as was just as expensive as anywhere else.

The road leaving Osoyoos ascended the mountains rapidly. It provided a great view overlooking Osoyoos Lake. It climbed so rapidly that I could feel the pressure changes in my inner ear. Once we cleared the peak, we entered some high country. This region must be elk country since every few kilometres away we would see another elk hazard signs. This warning would continue all the way to Fernie. Luckily for Kazu’s truck, we didn’t find any antlered friends. However, I deeply wish for a roadside sighting and photo opportunity of the magnificent beast.

From here on, the scenery remained similar. Our route hugged precariously to the sides of mountain slopes. We shot through small settlements with names such as Rock Creek, Midway, Greenwood and Eholt, and finally arrived in Grand Forks. For a BC interior town, Grand Forks is realatively large. There wasn’t much that Grand Forks would offer us and so we pushed on. Billings, Lafferty, Paulson, Castlegar/Kinnaird, Meadows and Salmo were towns we took little and left little. Finally, 4 hours later, we stopped at for another refuelling stop at Creston. Throughout this trip, I often had cravings for protein and fat rich foods like chicken fingers, wings and corn dogs. Perhaps it was due to our daily menu of bread, fruits, cup noodles and small servings of Vienna sausages. Creston offered me a chance to feed my craving with a spicy pepperoni. The saltiness of the treat was also very welcoming.

Leaving Creston behind, Cranbrook was only a little over 1 hour away. It is around the Cranbrook area that we began to see the slopes of the Rocky Mountains. From Cranbrook, we motored to Elko where we caught our first glimpse of the Elk River. The Elk is world famous for its trophy bull trout and westslope cutthroat trout fishing. In fact, the entire Elk drainage with its many tributaries and spring fed creeks were so special that they fall under Classified Waters protection. For non-resident, the cost of fishing Class II waters was $20/day. It was for this reason that Kazu and I decided not to fish this day since we arrived in Fernie at roughly 16:00. Although we had at least 4 hours of daylight left, the long drive left us exhausted and the $20 seemed unjustified.

Fernie was an idyllic little town where quaint resort homes dotted the base of the surrounding peaks.



We visited a local fly shop, the Kooteney Fly Shop, and caught up to the latest hatches and happenings on the river. It appeared that the river was a little behind in temperature and thus the hatches was slightly delayed. The large caddis and blue winged olive hatches has not happen (darn!), but the fish were eager to take on green drake during midday and yellow sally in the mornings and evenings. Naturally, I picked up 3 green drake and 3 yellow sally flies. I also bought my Class II license for next day’s fishing.

Since there was still some time until night fall, we had much time to “waste”. Kazu and I decided to do some scouting on a stream we were to fish the next day. Immediately adjacent to a highway bridge crossing, we found a nice little pool. The were little signs of fish but it did looked promising. We pushed on deeper into the gravel road evaluating sections of streams from the car. Occassionally, we stopped for a closer look. Our half-hour scouting trip yield at least 3 potential fishing spots. In one location, Kazu spotted a 12” mountain whitefish hugging the wood debris that was trapped next to some bridge support.

Once we were back in Fernie, we had a satisfying burger dinner at A&W. I grabbed the news paper and found our Canadian athletes had added a few more medals in our country’s honour. Fernie was only 1 hour from the Alberta border and the town even received the Calgary Sun newspaper.

After the 2 hour dinner break, Kazu and I returned to our stream and found ourselves a small rest stop where we were to retire for the night. We naturally took a look at the river. It was now 19:30 and a steady hatch of #18 yellow sally provided a buffet for the fishin the stream. Although we didn’t get a positive identification, the size of these fish suggested that they were most likely cutthroat trout. We decided to give this location a try first thing in the morning. In the fading light, the mountains overlooking our “camp” took on a softer character.



Returning back to the truck, our nightly rearrangement of the truck space became a routine and we were quickly snug in our sleeping bag in short order. I fell asleep to crickets and dreamt of trout sipping flies off the surface.

Day 12 (August 19th)

At 5am next morning, Kazu and I woke up to a chilly start. We decided to go straight to fishing and have a brunch later. Well, waking up early meant little when someone was already at your spot throwing a spoon into the pool. He had a good hit but missed it. After another 10 min, this old gentleman decided to leave for greener pastures.

I picked to fish the head of the pool in the rougher water while Kazu worked his magic in the deep part of the pool. With not much action, I stayed to work this pool while Kazu went exploring downstream. Fish were rising but there wasn’t an obvious hatch. I tried the yellow sally, caddis, griffiths gnat, prince nymph and stonefly nymph without success. Scratching my head, I decided to go big or go home empty. I tied on a beadhead micro leech that I had tied back at Kazu’s apartment. I fished it progressively toward to the other side of the stream. There was a large boulder where several fish were relating in the vicinity. The first drift in the area and I thought I felt a tap. In the middle of the next drift, my line twitched a little and it curled around upstream. I stripped the line tight and something tugged back! This fish was rather strong. After a great little dance, a flash silver with a slash of crimson came to my net. I caught my first westslope cutthroat trout!



What a beautiful little spot this was.



When Kazu returned, our stomachs dictated that a break was in order. We had a good breakfast and headed off to a second location.




Again, I decided to fish some rougher water first and gave Kazu the better spot. This was sensible since Kazu prefer to fish nymph and I prefer to fish dry flies. Kazu can fish the depths a bit more efficiently and conversely, I can fish the shallower, rough water without snagging up.

Without much action, Kazu went exploring and I moved into the main body of the pool. There were hatched of caddis and yellow sally in the air. Even though I fished with caddis and yellow sally, it took about an hour before I got a few hits and finally a small cutthroat. A few more missed hits later another small cutthroat had the fortune to visit our world. Kazu came wading back as I spotted a larger trout rising. I observed the current carefully and made by first drift. The fish rose and refused, but the fly got an explosive reception on the second drift! This 12” fish fought hard because it was somehow snagged in the belly. On that note, it was now 10am and we decided to explore a third location.

I identified the third spot based on some pictures I found on the internet. Sometimes, fishing reports with background are helpful, especially when you are traveling thousands of kilometres to fish unknown waters.

As with the last two locations, this location had a bridge crossing over the creek. Due to the easy access, there were few people fishing this area. In fact, the handful of people would be considered a crowd in this region. While everyone seemed to fish away from the bridge, I decided to fish right around the bridge. I caught 3 trout working the waters 5 feet upstream from the bridge support. They were fooled on the caddis and the foam hopper.

It wasn’t catching 3 trout here that was impressive. Well, perhaps they were impressive in Ontario since these fish were between 8-12”. It was the lost fish that surprised me. On one drift, I took a hit that sounded like a depth charge going off. I had a short tango with the fish before it dug into the bottom and cut my line. Not long after, when Kazu came wading back, I drifted a floating hopper under the bridge. With ultra clear water, I could see another large trout coming out of some wood debris sitting next to shore. The trout must have seen me and refused at the last moment. I went to conceal myself behind a boulder and made a perfect next cast. As soon as the fly drifted into range, the trout smashed it with vengeance! After missing my last fish, I played this fish carefully and tried to keep it off the bottom. This fish went for the opposite tactic and jumped off the hook. Darn! I missed two 18” cutthroat trout within a span of 20 minutes fishing right under the bridge. As I said before, I have no clue why people usually ignore these spots. Then again, keep moving…there’s nothing to see or to catch here!

Kazu said he finally caught a fish this morning on a caddis. He was fishing nymphs most of the morning but finally surrendered to the mighty caddis.



After the spot slowed down, I went exploring downstream. In a fast run, I decided to put on the #6 green drake I bought from the fly shop. I had a good fish rose but I was too eager on the hookset. I changed fly to the foam hopper hoping a new fly would get it to eat. I actually got a smaller 11” trout to hit and landed it. Knowing that the bruiser was still in there, I kept fishing the hopper.

Suddenly, at the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. There, across the creek, behind a boulder, under the ceder and in the seam of the swift current, “my” trout took something off the surface. It was not easy hitting the spot with the fly. I knew this trout was smart and there was little room for error. It took me four casts before my fly landed in the right drift. Every off target cast was quickly flicked back into the air to prevent the trout from seeing the fly. My final perfect cast bounced along the seam under the cedar branch and was smashed as soon as it got within the boulder. The fish ran into the current and fought deep and dirty. Finally, it came to hand with Kazu’s beautiful net job. Thanks Kazu for netting my 15” cutthroat, a new personal best!

If you look carefully to the left edge of the picture, just under the branches, you can see a boulder. That was where the fish was sitting. Upstream of that boulder, a cedar branch sat even closer to water than the ones seen in the picture.





With that epic effort, we decided to call it a fishing day at 13:00. Our initial plan was to spend a whole day on this stream. The amazing fishing yielded 9 fish for me between 8-15” with many misses and a couple of large fish lost. I already had the best day of fly fishing of my life! I was happy to leave.

We had a quick lunch at the truck and began our trek toward Calgary. The Crowsnest Highway brought us right over the slide site at Frank. On April 29, 1903 at 4:10 a.m., 82 million tonnes (30 million cubic metres) of limestone rushed down the summit of Turtle Mountain and buried a portion of the town of Frank killing 70 people. Large slabs of rock, boulders the size of car and rubble covering football fields could be seen on both side of the highway. Unfortunately, it was raining while we cross this chilling landscape. I did managed to get a shot when the rain stopped.



A short while later, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was surrounded by the prairie. This was the first glimpse of the wide expanse I’ve read about but have yet to experience in person.



If I were to take this route again, I would stop the car to stand under the wide, blue sky and take in the tranquility and listen to the wind rustling the grassland. Much of this grassland were owned as ranch land. An hour later, the ranches gave way to farmlands.



Two hours later, we arrived in Calgary, just in time to participate in the 17:00 rush hour. We aimed to arrive in Red Deer before 18:00. However, the traffic set us back some time and we didn’t get to Red Deer until 19:00. We found a Canadian Tire where I applied for a WiN card and a fishing license. Unfortunately, one incompetent sale clerk mis-entered my drivers license into the system and I was not able to get the correct license. Long story short, I had to visit the Natural Resource office. Luckily, it was in Red Deer. Unluckily, the office has closed already so we must wait until at least 9:00 before we could fish.

When we walked out of the Canadian Tire, a nasty storm was brewing in the distance and headed straight toward Red Deer. Kazu said our campsite for the night was under all the dark ominous clouds. As we drove closer and closer to the storm, the lightning strikes became more frequent. I had seen some scary storms. I had photographed lightning strikes. But this storm truly scared me. The thought of sleeping in the truck in that storm was not a great idea. So Kazu and I found a motel in Red Deer for the night. Again, I caught up with the Olympics before falling asleep.

Day 13 (August 20th)

Kazu and I took it slow and easy this morning. We had to wait until 9am for the Natural Resources office to open. We had a nice complimentary breakfast at the motel, packed up and started to locate the office. We drove around twice looking for the street and missed it both times. When we did find the street corner, we went to the wrong building. All this running around meant we wasted an hour just trying to correct an error on my WiN Card application just so we could get fishing.

When all was said and done, we hurried to our first fishing location. Since it was now close to lunch time, we had a quick lunch before fishing. Looking from the bridge, the Red Deer River looked low and clear. Kazu said it was much lower than the same time last year and he didn’t know what to expect. We decided to try fishing here anyways.

The river resembled the Grand River that I’m familiar with. In fact, I divided and conquered the various sections much like I would fish the Grand River in Caledonia. Unfortunately, the goldeye were not around. If they were, they were not interested to the usual offering of olive wooley buggers, streamers, nymphs nor foam hoppers. After a couple of hours of fishing, Kazu and I decided to fish elsewhere.

We could either fish upstream of the city of Red Deer, or we could fish downstream. Our final decision was to head to Drumheller and fish downstream. I had made a request to spend a bit of time in Drumheller anyways. There was something special waiting for me. Somewhere between the 2 hours travel to Drumheller, my eyes closed involuntarily. When I woke up next time, I was surrounded by the badlands! That was one of the more unique landscape I’ve ever woken to. It was not long before we saw the welcome sign of Drumheller.





We drove straight to the river to check out the conditions. Similar to the section in Red Deer, the river was low and clear. In fact, it was so clear that we soon realize the river was fishless. If the goldeye were in the river, it would be quite easy to spot the occasional flash from their chrome bodies.

Thus, Kazu and I had a free afternoon from fishing. Well, that was just perfect since we could push ahead our schedule and use the time to visit the Royal Tyrrell Museum in Dinosaur Provincial Park!

Yeah, that’s right. I’m still a big kid. Those big toothy predators and slow, long necked herbivores excited me. For $10 admission, I am fulfilling one of my long time goal ever since I arrived in Canada. I don’t know all the statistics about the museum. Bluntly, I could care less. I only need to know that this was one of the largest collection of complete dinosaur fossil in North America and the badlands is one of the richest fossil site in the world. Well, enough babbling from me. Here are some pictures.

Young Albertosaurus



Adult Albertosaurus



Dromaeosaurs



Cool trilobite



World largest ammonite



Devonian Placodermi



World largest ichthyosaur



Apatosaur



Stegosaurus



Chasmosaurus belli



Duck-billed dinosaur



Triceratops and T-rex



Terror of the ancient sea...mesosaur



Shorter neck = a kind of plesiosaur, long neck = elasmosaur



Mammoth and sabertooths



Don't you wish you have a rack like that at home? Ancient elk and bison



Kazu went through each exhibit rather quickly. Meanwhile, I’m busy photographing just about everything and reading all I could about each item. After about 100 pictures, I had to delete some of them and use more selective pressure on what should be photographed. Our visit took only 3 hours, but I could have sworn it felt like a half day. When we finally walked out of the museum, part of the sky had darkened to provide quite an inviting photo opportunity.

Here are a few more shots of the surroundings.







It was now 19:00. Kazu and I returned to the river to see whether an evening hatch could bring some fish out of hiding. From the bridge, we saw a few rising fish. The gentle dimpling of the surface take suggested that these were only small fish. However, Kazu corrected me that often times goldeye feed on the surface just as discrete and delicate. Obviously, we had to give it a try. Well, maybe Kazu was wrong this time, or maybe the goldeye just didn’t like us. We fished for 45min with various dry flies and nymphs without so much as a sneeze on our fly.

We decided to try another spot that was nearby. Although we saw a couple of encouraging explosive rises, we were once again scratching our heads. As the sun was setting, I put down the fly rod and gave my camera a chance instead.



At about 21:00, we decided to leave Drumheller. Kazu suggested that we could find a pull out spot along the way for the night. We drove for an hour through a couple of small town without finding a suitable spot. At the end, we drove back to Calgary to spend the night at the parking lot of a Visitor Center.

Day 14 (August 21st)

There was a lot of sadness this morning. This was the morning I would be spending with Kazu. Beyond this day, there was little telling when we would met again to take on the open road and explore any possible fish bearing waters.

Before we part, we made one last big effort to hunt our Alberta target fish. We decided to fish the Bow River not far from Calgary. After filling some gas, we drove around looking for a Mohawk gas station that might sell maggot that Kazu could use for bait. Our search came up as a disappointment. We headed to our fishing location undeterred. We couldn’t access our first location due to mining operations in progress, but our second location was set in a quiet park with easy river access.

The Bow River was another treacherous river. The bottom composed of round rocks covered in moss. The river was deep and the flow was moderately fast in some areas. While Kazu trusted his footing with his felt soled boots, I clung close to shore in knee deep water. It wasn’t a problem getting the fly into some deeper water since the shore dropped off at a 45 degree. There were a few wing dams that we fished. In between each wing dam, the water entered a calm lagoon with sandy bottom and occasional clumps of weeds. It looked like a classic trout feeding location. In fact, the Bow River is world renowned as a trophy rainbow and brown trout fishery.

Kazu and I fished various nymphs, dries and hopper patterns. I might have a hit, but it was much too quick and gentle to confirm. We fished every possible holding spots from the eddy behind each wing dam, the current seam and even the calm waters in the lagoon. We didn’t see one fish nor did we receive a solid hit. Two hours into fishing, the wind picked up significantly and the sky darkened. A storm was crashing our fishing party! It was much too windy for me to cast far enough to fish the seams. The temperature was also dropping like a rock and it was getting cold. I packed my rod and took shelter under a gazebo. Kazu continued to fight the elements and fished for another 45 minutes before he came looking for me. When we spoke, he said that he couldn’t find me and feared I had fallen in.

We decided to conclude our fishing trip at 14:00. We had our last lunch together at the back of the truck, a lunch of bananas, apples and buns, our typical travel lunch menu. After lunch, we drove back to Calgary where Kazu dropped me off at a C-Train terminal. Our goodbyes were short but heartfelt. I sure hope we could save enough money to make our next trip a possibility in 2010.

Here's inside the C-Train



While I took the train to downtown Calgary, I met father and his daughter. His daughter couldn’t have been more than 10 years old. The father saw me luggage and asked whether I was coming home or leaving home. I said I was on a fishing trip from Ontario. We chatted about fishing for a little bit. He told me about some of the trout fishing he experienced in the past in Alberta. He said he hadn’t fished for quite a few years, but then turned to his daughter and told her he’ll bring her fishing sometime. She was so excited and beaming with the greatest smile in the world. So I took our my fly box and pulled out a bunch of my own nymph, leech and dry fly patterns and gave them enough to last a couple of trips. I gave my flies a blessing before handing it to them and getting off the train. I hope the dad made good on his promise and share some precious fishing experiences with his daughter.

From here on, my journey is not fishing related. In fact, there was little exciting to tell for a couple of days. I am quite bitter about what happened with the rest of this day or the next day. Simply put, I was let down by a friend that I thought I could depend on. I knew this friend for 15 years and we had a little bit of a history if you know what I mean. She invited me to visit Calgary quite a few times. When I finally found a ticket sale, she continued to suggest the best time for me to visit. But when I arrived, she had little time to show me around or to even spend time together. Worst off, I was offered accommodations at her apartment that eventually evaporated into an empty promise. She tried to make amends by taking me out to dinner and a movie (albeit with her date of the night! Talk about rubbing salt on the wounds!) but the damage was done. Since she was the best friend of my buddy’s wife, I decided not to make a big fuss. I would simple wipe her off my “friends” list after the trip. Had I not have another friend in Calgary to visit, this part of the trip would turned into a total disaster! So, I will just fast forward a couple of days and save you all the rant.

Anyways...a look at downtown Calgary's 8th Street.



Bow River from the balcony.



Day 16 (August 23rd)

I was quite excited today to meet my friend, Erica, from undergrad who was now studying her Masters degree at the University of Calgary. We arranged to meet at 10am and she was right on time, in typical high fashion with her Chihuahua. The plan of the day was to eat our fill of cupcakes and catch up on the past year of absence. I forgot the name of the cupcake place…but the cupcakes were to die for! Their coffee was very good as well. I’ll see if I can get more info on this place so if you are ever in Calgary, you can see for yourselves.

After spoiling our taste buds, we drove to a park along the Bow River and hiked the trails along the Bow River. We would have a close encounter with a garter snake and came across an osprey nest. Here are a couple of pics of one of the parents.





After the hike, I was invited to her place for dinner. Her fiancée was spending the day and evening to renovate a cousin’s house. So we had the evening alone. No, no, aside from a great pasta dinner, a bottle and a half of red wine and watching the Gremlins and the Wedding Singer, nothing else happened LOL. Although, we did spilled some deep secrets…perhaps more coming from me. I did after all had a more than a couple glasses of wine…We called the night at 23:00 and I returned to a dorm room at the University of Calgary where I took up residence for a few days.

Day 17 (August 24th)

After a night of wining and dinning, it was a slow morning getting up, dressed and fed. The cafeteria food at U of C was half decent, but it was better than our road travel menu LOL. The cafeteria was...



Erica picked me up in her car at 11:30am and we set our destination toward Banff, but not before a good dose of Starbucks in typical Erica fashion.

Banff is only roughly 1 hour from Calgary. Unexpectedly, the transformation from the prairies to the foothills to the mountains was so drastic that we were surrounded by grasslands to the granite walls all within 15 minutes of driving distance.

Banff was another quaint little tourist town. Sadly, I didn’t take any pictures of Banff (nor Smithers!). Well, that meant a return trip was in order in the future. We escaped all the buzzing activity in town and opted for a quiet hike up one of the mountain trails.

I don’t remember the name of the trail we took. I’m a little embarrassed that my memory of this leg of the trip was so poor. Perhaps it was due to the previously mentioned traumatic experience I had. In any case, this trail would follow the bank of an emerald river, up to a cascading creek, deep into the pine forest and finally to a perch on the side of the mountain. We could have ventured even higher up the mountain on a rougher trail. However, with Erica’s Chihuahua CeCe running around bear and cougar country and the limited time we had, I decided that it would be best saved for another trip. Climbing up a mountain rejuvenated my tired, lab-caged body and I think Erica and I eventually caught up just about everything in life. Here are a few pictures from our hike.

















Our drive back to Calgary was a rough one. We were both tired and trying our best to keep each other awake and alert on the drive home. We did make it home safely for a quick rest. To my amazement, Erica fiancee’s cousin invited Erica and I over for dinner. Boy, they put out a whole table of Slavic food fit for a few kings and queens! This couple was so kind and giving and we shared a lot of great stories. The wine kept flowing and th stories got better and better. At the end of the night, I gave them my invite to visit Hawaii if I ever settle there. They would receive my all-inclusive treatment during their time there as a thanks for their hospitality.

Day 18 (August 25th)

The day was quite uneventful. I spent the morning packing my luggage and had a great breakfast. My flight was set for 17:00. My friend Erica took half a day off and drove me to the airport by 15:00 even when I insisted that I could take the bus to the terminal on my own just fine. It was another brief goodbye as I’m not great with long goodbyes. And well, the rest is pretty much history.

If you read through every part...well, it was 36 pages of Word document ;D

[jkman]

Wow, what an epic expedition trip Ken!

[MuskieBait]

(03-24-2013 09:05 PM)jkman Wrote:  Wow, what an epic expedition trip Ken!

It was! Of all the trips I've taken so far, this is probably rated in the top three favourite trips. I was fishing the fly rod for most of the trip and to catch a lot of beautiful fish on the fly rod was probably why it is so dear to my heart. I do love fly fishing.

One day I would love to do it again...even if it wouldn't yield any new species for me. I just love fly fishing and driving through all that beautiful country.

---

You know...looking back at this trip (yes, I re-read the entire report over again...I write these reports for myself so I can go back and re-live ever moment of it, again and again )...anyways...looking back, I need to take more pictures on my expedition trips. These days, I'm often too busy fishing and ignore my camera...I really do have a lot of fun with the camera and I should give it more attention!

[OldTimer]

Awesome - just love BC and Alberta. I always look forward to going there (my son lives In Calgary).

Thanks for sharing.

OT

[John Pimentel]

Wow, seems like it was quite a trip. Thanks for sharing, great photos.

John