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Old 09-03-2009, 12:57 PM
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Default Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

I know you've been out there. Whether it was a weekend or a week long excursion or just an evening alone on the water..........................

We all have had or will have a fishing trip that will stand out as a little more of an adventure than most. Perhaps it was a float trip, or hiking to a remote lake or creek. Maybe a unique discovery regarding wildlife or a magnificent view, outstanding fishing or the beauty of complete solitude.

You needn't describe the location down to the GPS coordinates but photographs help. I've started a few threads that yielded some good stories and I'm looking to read yours. If you've floated The Deschutes, The Snake, The Delaware, The Penobscot, or anywhere in between I'd like to see your pictures and hear about the trip. If you've hiked in for Goldens, Cuts, Greenbacks, or Brookies, that would be good to see / hear also. Maybe a sudden thunder storm turned an evening outing into a fish catching Valhalla when the rain let up?

Tell us about it,

Ard
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Old 09-03-2009, 03:05 PM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

I remember this one trip I was fishing a nice little stream in a gorge and had to do quite a bit of rock hopping to get anywhere. Wading boots aren't exactly the best for getting traction on steep slippery banks and I can't tell you how many times I gracefully entered the river sliding on my rear.

Things were going fine until I had to make it down from a small 10' waterfall. I was doing ok until a piece of rock gave way. I slid down and found myself in a hole over my head. My waders were full of water and I was soaked. All worth it for native brookies though.
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Old 09-04-2009, 09:17 AM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

years ago i used to run after work to a small stream .
as i am a little short the bottom of my vest is often wet . while i was standing in the deep and slow part of the steam waiting for some action i just look into my back and i saw a plastic box going down the stream : ohhh !!! people are really dirty to throw boxes in the river .... that is strange i have not seen it a few seconds ago... and it looks familiar .... it was my biggest fly box , full of maybe a hundred flies , escaped quietly from a pocket i forgot to close .
i ran out from the water , trying to catch my fly box through bushes , trees and rocks , as the stream was running faster . i never was able to grab it
hopefully i am never short of flies but it was a good opportunity to get back to the tying vise
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Old 09-04-2009, 12:18 PM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

This one stands out...


My daughter Nadia reminded me that I took a four day trip to Chilko Lake, BC in the fall of 1976 with her and Ilse. That trip had eluded my memory for some reason – although I must admit that it was one of the best trips I have ever taken over a four day period.

//www.alpenglowspa.com/images/chilkolake.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

My friend, Fritz Wepper was friends with a group of young Germans who had decided to relocate their families to the interior of British Columbia. They had pooled their resources and purchased Chilko Lake Lodge sometime in the mid seventies. Fritz knew that I worked in the Public Relations profession and thought that it might be a good idea if we all hooked up. They contacted me and arranged for the three of us to fly to Vancouver, BC where one of the owners, who was a pilot, would fly down and pick us up (the lodge had it’s own airstrip).

I had a client at the time who was taping a Canadian television show in Vancouver, so I stopped briefly by the set and returned to the airport where this fellow met us – in a single prop aircraft. I DON’T LIKE single engine aircraft. I have jumped out of most of the things the Army and Air Force use to drop parachutists – and other than a Huey, none of them had one engine. I white knuckled it all the way to Chilko Lake.

When we arrived we were met by a gaggle of Moms, Dads and offspring who warmly welcomed us. We had flown over many magnificent rivers, lakes and mountain ranges on our way to the lodge. They showed us to our quarters which was a grand room in the main lodge and we then settled down for a gourmet meal with many bottles of brew. I was introduced to an elderly gentleman who was born in Prussia who had fished for salmon and trout all over the world. He asked me if I would like to join him that afternoon down river in one of the lodge’s boats which was powered by a 50hp. Mercury engine. I put my gear together and stuffed streamers and bucktails into my vest. I decided to fish my Leonard with a sinking line.

//farm3.static.flickr.com/2301/2091969626_9a99d6a25f.jpg?v=0” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

The Chilko River flows out of Chilko Lake. Below the Lodge, it is broad and swift. We anchored our craft behind a small island in the middle of the flow about a quarter mile down from the lodge. I attached a #6 Mickey Finn pattern to my 7 1/2′, 2x leader and began casting into the current, letting the fly swing below me before retrieving. The water was full of coho salmon, heading upriver and into the lake’s tributaries to spawn. My partner fished a big dark streamer on a 9′ Bamboo rod with a Hardy reel attached. As we fished, he related his wartime experiences to me – he had survived both the first and second World Wars. Soon, he was into a fine fish. I reeled in my line and reached for the landing net. Within a half hour, this older (more experienced) fellow caught and released five good fish – all but one were Dolly Vardens, the other was a plump and feisty Rainbow.

As the afternoon progressed, I learned some advanced aspects of streamer fishing from this aged angler. He showed me how to tie a Duncan Loop and how to use a half-hitch around the front of a streamer to change its draw through the water. Finally, at dusk, I started to score and took several nice Rainbows. The largest was 23″ and it came to my Mickey Finn. We returned to the Lodge at nightfall and enjoyed another sumptuous meal. Nadia fell asleep in my lap in front of a roaring fire.

The following morning, we decided to take advantage of the Lodge’s horses and went for an extended ride along the shore of the lake. We returned for lunch where my hosts invited me to go up once again in that damned plane to look for Dahl Sheep which they would, later in the fall -hunt. I somewhat hesitatingly loaded my carcass into the aircraft and spent the next two hours flying around lofty, snow capped peaks with the wing tips inches off the mountainside. I saw the sheep…get me outta’ here!!!

That evening was better. I loaded Ilse and Nadia in the watercraft and headed toward the Chilko Lake outlet. I fished to the banks with both my Leonard and Winston, small Adams and Royal Wulff patterns. A hunter’s moon hung in the sky. The trout, none of which was over 15″ went crazy. In the fading light, which lasts till 10 o’clock in these elevations, Nadia and I caught and released over 50 fish.

The next morning, Nadia and I loaded into the boat early. I took my 11′ fiberglass rod and rigged it with a sinking line to which I added, 6ft. of lead core line and a short 1x leader. I started with a black #2 dace pattern and slowly trolled up and down the river below the small island I had previously fished. Nothing…

I then put on a white muddler minnow #2 and trolled it at a bit faster pace. Suddenly, Nadia ( who was 4 ) jumped out of her seat, screamed and pointed at the rod tip which was bent to the water. I slowed the boat and heaved back on the rod. I thought I had snagged the bottom. On my second pull, a huge form blasted out of the water behind the boat, dropped to the river, sending spray everywhere. Now I got a problem. I put Nadia at the wheel and asked her to hold the front of the boat into the current. That explanation wasn’t understood. The fish is on and I’m envisioning us being swept down current to the next territory. After more that a few terrifying moments I finally got the fish to the stern of the boat and netted it. It was a grand 9lb. Rainbow that had inhaled the fly. This one I kept. I dropped it into the boat, grabbed my pliers and removed the hook. I put the fish into a stowaway compartment on the side of the boat and told Nadia to sit on it. The fish heaved and slammed the top of the compartment until Nadia jumped up and scrambled up to the bow of the boat . “Dad”, she screamed, ” smack that fish on the head and KILL HIM!”. I looked at this blond, flowing mass of hair coming out of an orange life jacket ,with snot and tears running down her face and said, ” OK”. I reached into the box and whacked the fish in the head . It stopped struggling. Nadia wouldn’t step towards the stern of the boat for the remainder of the day.

We left the next day…in that same plane. Nadia hasn’t fished with me, in a boat, since…

PT/TB
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Old 09-04-2009, 12:38 PM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

I have had a few, but the one that keeps coming to mind was a day on a small lake just Southwest of Fort St. John B.C.
It used to be hard to get into and it was not unusual to catch a lot of Rainbows in the 5 to 8lb range ( On a Casual Dress).
So I was tubing way down from my favourite spot along a reed bed with alot of willows and alders growing close by. I heard alot of noise, saw small trees moving and so I sort of watched tentatively. Shortly a moose calf wandered out and looked around. This was even more worrisome as moose calves usually have moose moms with them and they are way more dangerous than any bear you will meet if a calf is involved.
The calf spotted me, not that far from shore and since I looked more like a nesting gorrilla than a human (in my tube) it wandered out in the lake to get a better look.
I started waving my hands and hissing "Shoo! Shoo!" while trying to put some distance between us. Suddenly and very quietly Mommy showed up! I stopped moving and tried to look alot smaller than a nesting gorrilla. She layed her ears back and lowered her head while moving around to her baby. I kept kicking to move away. Since I did not look like a human, I think she decided she would leave me alone. She grunted at her baby a couple of times then nudgesd it with her nose to get it moving away. Once it was gone, she turned for one last glare and left.
So after I survived that I started kicking my way down to the dead timber where the big fish lurked. Arriving there I was into a fish right away, nice one around 25". Great! I thought. Tossed my line out again and out of nowhere a beaver surfaces heading right for my line. Too late I tried to flip my line over it and instead I lassoed the thing. It was a 25lb. beaver and it ran me into the backing twice as I tried for a long line release. The fly was hooked around the line or caught in its thick undercoat I couldn't tell.
I kept trying to pop the fly off. Suddenly the beaver got very quiet. It was looking at my fly line on the surface and looking at me.....I am thinking "Hmmm 2 giant wood chisels and an air filled bladder, this will not end well!"
I started yelling and splashing frantically as the beaver started following the fly line back to me. I must have scared it enough because one more time it made a dive and my fly popped free. The beaver came up, looked around and went on about doing whatever it had started to do.
That's my story for what it is worth.
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Old 09-04-2009, 01:00 PM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

That my friend is a good one, and well written!

That goes for both of you.

Ard
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Old 06-16-2011, 12:08 AM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

Some of these old threads need to have some more people join in and tell their tales. Whenever things seem slow here I dig out some old topics just to see who may have an interesting to add to the conversation.
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Old 06-16-2011, 12:26 AM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

the pic tells the story....my daughter with her first fish with her papap.

Click the image to open in full size.

love it!


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Old 06-16-2011, 12:58 AM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

Nice picture and worth a thousand words You could always PM me the name of that little creek ya know
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Old 06-16-2011, 04:28 PM
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Default Re: Your Fly Fishing Adventure Story

One trip that stands out to me happened in the early spring of the late 80s or early 90s,I dont remember for sure,I was in my late 20s / early 30s and it was just one werck after another. My dad and i were packing in horseback to the Medows on the Middle fork of the Gila river, Its about 15 miles if you go over the top. Anyway i was rideing a couple of young horses for a guy and had a couple of my personal horses that i packed.

We got to the river the night before and got an early start the next morning. I saddled the horse i was going to ride and tied him to the log corral while we were loading the pack horses. We were tieing down the last pack when the idiot i had tied to the corral decide to run backwards and and jerk a pondarosa pine log out of the corral that was 18" around and 5 or 6 feet long and the went to buckin with that log smackin him in the knees every time he hit the ground . I jumped on Dads horse and went and caught him before he crippled his self we got the wreck fixed and headed up the trail.
We were about an hour or so into the trip and had just crossed little bear canyon if anbody knows that country and i was out in front leading a pack horse with Dad behind leading a pack horse.
There was a pretty good sized log across the trail but not so big that the horses couldent rear up and hop over it, My saddle horse got over it fine but the pack horse kinda drug his hind legs over it but i dident think to much about it and i watched my dads saddle horse get over it then turned my attention back to the trail in front of me.
In this part of western New Mexico and eastern Arizona we have what we call ground bees and i have never seen them anywhere else but they will build there hives in a hole in the ground or an old log laying across the trail ......Well the next thing i know there was a pack horse tryin to get up in the saddle with me, and my dad and his pack horse passing me on the right and both horses bucking to beat the band and slinging cans of creamed corn and green beans all over the mountain and my old man cussin like the sailor he was ........ It would have been pretty dammed funny if i hadent been tryin to save my own life and keep that @#%*% pack horse from pawin my brains out ....I finally got my horses calmed down with just a couple of knots on my head and the back of my shirt torn off. The last i had see of the old man was him his saddle and pack horses going around a bend in the trail 90 to nuthin and dad Cussin a blue streak.
The trail wasent real hard to follow cuz there was cans of corn ,green beans, dintymoore beef stew,Wolf brand chile and oatmeal scatterd every where.
I found his pack horse a couple hundred yards up the trail tangled up in the brush but the oldman was nowhere in sight. I got off and hobbled both pack horses then went on with the search. In my mind i kept seein dad and that roan horse waded up 7 or 800 feet down in the bottom of the canyon.
About a half mile up the trail i found him and ole roaney, The horse was no worse for it but dad had sprung a leak or two when roaney tried to take him thru a cat claw thicket and he was still cussin so i knew he was fine

Ill continue the saga later i better get some work done
Steve
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