I don’t think there are too many places on this planet where someone can go skiing one day and fishing the next.
After making turns on Bye Bye Bowl at Sunshine Village one day, the next I was headed south to fish the Crowsnest River. I had been dreaming of the rainbow trout that make this sleepy stream so renowned for weeks. My plans to go down there were diverted by cold weather and wind gusts between 80 and 100 km per hour. I finally got my break in late March, so I packed up my fly rods and drove down.
I got to the river around 11 a.m. I wasn’t in too much of a hurry because the nights have been clear and cold and I expected some ice in the river. I also expected the trout to be more active in the early afternoon as the day warms up. It is always nice if you can take your time, but I was excited about fishing, so I quickly put on my waders and boots, and rigged my fly rod by the stream.
I had my three weight rods and was hoping for a midge hatch, but nothing was happening, so I decided to nymph fish. I am not a pro on the Crow, but I figured starting out with a worm imitation was a good choice. There are a ton of different worm patterns to use and I like one called a ‘Reese’s Pieces.’
My first cast into a deep pool, I hooked what felt like a fat trout. I could feel the headshakes, and then I lost him. I crossed the river and fished the other side of the pool and hooked up again, only to lose him as well.
I moved further downstream and tried another fly called a bloodworm. After several casts, I caught one of the nicest rainbows I have ever seen. At this time of year, rainbows are in their full dress and feeding well before they spawn in late April and May. The trout was a reddish purple with a light copper belly and close to 20 inches long. I had him on for a minute, before he spit the hook and swam away. It was time to change tactics. I put on a buggy looking stonefly nymph and the fish killed it. There was no need to change flies for the rest of the afternoon.
After a stellar day, I got back to my car to find a surprise. Let me give you some real sage advice right now before I tell you what the surprise was. If you see a ‘No Trespassing’ sign, do your best to obey it. Sometimes I don’t, and I have been known to hop a few barb-wire fences in my relatively short fishing career. This time it caught up to me, and I found an angry scribbled message in permanent red marker on my driver’s side window that read, ‘No Trespassing means No Trespassing, $285 fine. Thanks.’ Well, I guess it is better than being chased off the property with a shotgun or having my tires slashed.
Sometimes you have to ask yourself, “Is it worth it?” In this case, I would say a contented “yes”, but I will park elsewhere next time I am on the Crowsnest River.
