Saturday, May 08, 2010

Fishing The Flats

With no room for a back-cast due to the cutbank at the rivers edge that my back was up against, my only option was to make my cast facing down stream and then mend the line while on my backcast, and roll the line out and on to the water just above where I had been watching a trout feed. The fish was holding in a seam behind a series of boulders that bordered a riffle that the water tumbled down over.
It did not help that the wind was being quite annoying at the same time, with gusts threatening to ruin my presentation and drop my fly-line directly over the fish, putting him down. My first attempt failed, but fortunately my cast was short and the fish did not spook. On my next attempt I was able to lay the line where I had been hoping to, and as my imitation drifted through the lie where this fish was holding, the fly disappeared into a explosion of foamy water as the trout took my dry fly, and I was fast into a nice fish. After playing him into the shallows just below me, I released him back in to the water.
An hour earlier, I had left home just before sunrise with a stop made for a coffee to go, as well as a fill for a small thermos that I would place in my day-pack to take with me on the river. Before leaving home, I had located a small waist-pack in which to carry a camera body along with two lens. I keep threatening to acquire a small point and shoot camera just for the times that I am out on the water. Instead I carry one of my DSLR's, as its hard to down-scale when you are used to the quality of the photos that the larger sensor gives you. Of course, from time to time I come Oh so close to drowning the camera in the river and prefer not to do this having tried this some years back to the displeasure of my insurance company. Its funny that I tell you this, as I had found myself backtracking earlier as I climbed the bluffs located on the North side of the Bow. Needing a break from wading the river, I had decided that I would make the climb up to a interesting series of sandstone formations that overlook the river valley. I had only gone a short distance when I realized that the lens hood off of the lens mounted on my camera was gone. I remembered that it had been there when I had left the river, and decided to back-track before going further as I did not want to lose another lens-hood, having just replaced it lately after losing the last one in a beaver dam in Kananaskis Country. Costing $75.00 to replace it each time I lose one kinda ruins your day. Within a few minutes on my back-trail, I found it lying where I had scrambled up a steep section and had probably knocked it loose with my knee. With some light scrambling, I was soon in amongst the sandstone formations overlooking the river valley. I wanted to pour a coffee from my thermos, but I would soon loose the early morning light, so I stripped my fishing gear off, and climbed about shooting captures of these formations. At one point I had been behind one of these formations very near the crest of the valley, and upon stepping out of the shadows, I was startled by a Swainson's hawk working the slopes hunting for his breakfast. He was close enough that I was able to get a good photo without having one of my longer lens with me. Finally, I decided that I had enough captures of these most interesting sandstone formations, and sat down on a ledge over looking the river valley and enjoyed a coffee poured from my thermos. At one point, I happened to be looking upstream when something in the river caught my eye. I realized that what I was looking at was a group of seven white-tailed deer swimming the river. They exited the water on the far side of the river, and it was comical to watch then shake off the water much like a dog does. Before long I decided that I would have to get on down to the river if I was going to get any more fishing in before calling it a day, as I had a afternoon commitment in the city that I had to keep. Retrieving my fishing gear, and working my way back down to the river, I was soon back in the river wading and casting dry flies to rising trout. Gotta Love It!

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