Flyfishing is another one of my passions. My father taught me how to cast at a very young age. I can remember casting to a garden hose hoop that he had made and would throw in amongst the trees of the front yards of our house and that of my uncle and aunt next door. Dad would tell me how many false casts I had before I put the fly in the ring. It was tough and often frustrating practice, but I have not regretted a single moment.
The People

This is my Dad doing what he loves, wringing out big Browns and Rainbows from behind rocks on the Bow River.

This is myself, in bright red, apparently not too worried about being visible to the fish (didn't seem to matter much), displaying a nice little Bow River Rainbow.

The three Amigo's in 1978. Wow! Were we young then!

On the left, my Dad - the best fisherman I have ever known. On the right, my best friend Mike - the second best fisherman I have ever known. And that's me in the middle fresh from competing in the 1978 Commonwealth Games and desparately in need of some RnR.

This is us today!

Here I am on the Bow River with Mack, a Malamute. He was one fine "fishing dog". He could tell the difference between me stripping off line from the reel and a fish ripping line off on a run. For the former he'd continue to sleep, for the latter he'd come a runnin'! Mack loved to eat fish, so I had to be careful when I brought them in.

Beaver Damming is a fun, if often exasperating, activity. Half the time the fly is on the water, the other half I'm wrangling it out of the trees and bushes!

 

On the Highwood, in the rain and having a blast. When I saw the movie poster for "A River Runs Through It" I thought,"Hey, I've seen that before!" Sure enough it was this picture that Mike had taken on our trip to the Highwood. Brad may be prettier than me, but I cast better.

 

Mike caught a very nice Whitefish and put it behind us in a shallow pool up on the bank to keep the fish fresh for a campfire lunch. Sometime later we came back to get it and it was gone! There was a single soggy footprint and a couple of scales on the rocks. I called my dogs Kelsey and Mack, pointed to the print and scales and asked, "Who did this?" Kelsey just looked at me with pure innocence as if to say, "Wasn't me!" Mack, however, couldn't meet my eyes and kept his head low, I knew he'd eaten the fish - "Honest as the day was long" - I could not be mad at him, I just laughed. Mike was a little peeved though.

Some Places

 

Lavington Creek in eastern B.C., is one of the most picturesque places I have ever been. You can see the creek winding its way down the valley - its chock full of fiesty Cutthroats, too.

The Highwood River west of Longview AB. The pools along this stretch are fantastic. Emerald green, cold as can be and stuffed with Cutts and Whitefish.

 A little no-name stream around Edson, AB. It was a "nasty" little creek to fish, but the rewards were great! Big Browns and my first and only experience, to this point, with Arctic Grayling.

Here's the North White River, again in eastern B.C. Yup, Mike and I rapelled down a portion of the walls to get to the river. We were in our waders and held our rods in our teeth. Just as well, as it prevented me from screaming in terror! Man, were we stupid! But we caught some awesome fish and had a wonderful time!

Some Fish
Below is a few of my favorite photos..... all are of Brown Trout. They seem to be more photogenic than the Rainbows, who never sit still long enough for even the fastest of photos. Mind, it is tough to do this all on one's own - catch fish, land, remove hook, shoot photo, return and revive, shoot another photo. The weight and cumbersome nature of my camera plus all my flyfishing gear, well, thank God I stay away from really deep water!

Gratuitous politically correct disclaimer --None of these fish died, all were returned safely and quickly to the stream and were carefully watched to ensure a full recovery.
 

This Brown has taken the fly and is about to test my line and backing!!

Here he is up on the shore for a very, very quick photo - 10 seconds tops!

And back in the water resting. I remember that he moved off very slowly and calmly. I know he's fine as I caught him again two more times. I could tell by his rather bulbous snout! I knick named him Charlie! In the end I did find him dead, along with thousands of his bretheren, from a chlorine spill into the stream. It took three years for it to recover to a degree, but I don't think it is close to where it was.

Here's a Brown hen just bursting at the seams with roe. She's about 19 inches and rested comfortably on the frost covered grass while gnawing on my flyline.

 

Here she is back in the water resting before she takes off. She, too, very calmly sauntered off into the deeper water. Gently holding them by the tail, head upstream and not making any rapid gestures makes for a better release than if one holds them by the middle. Rarely to they jet away upon release, which makes for great photos!

Here is a very, very nice buck Brown showing both his deeper spawning colours as well as a fully developed kype on his lower jaw. If you compare this one with the female Brown above you can readily see the differences between the sexes.

This is it for now. I do hope to add to this as time and cooperative fish allow!