Cutthroat in Panama

 Well, it was a crapshoot; but a well reasoned crapshoot.

When my fishing partner and I made plans to fish some streams in the East Kootenay region during the second week of July, we knew that it can be a little early in the season for good fishing due to high water. But we reasoned that with the lower than average snowpack, the forecasted warmer than average spring, and with the spectre of summer wildfires and hoot owl stream closures potentially limiting opportunities later in the summer, taking a trip in early-mid July was a good gamble. 

Turns out we're pretty good crapshooters. 

Water clarity was very good, the streams were wadeable, and the fish were agreeable.What more can you ask? 

While eating dinner in camp on our day of arrival, a flying ant landed on the table. We might not be the sharpest knives in the toolshed, but it was clear to both of us what fly we'd be tying on first in the morning! A black Chubby Chernobyl became one of our go-to flies over the week.

A spot we fished early on day one. A couple of fish, one for each of us, were hiding in the pocket in the lee of the rock on the right.

In the bigger rivers, we discovered that the fish were along the edges. My partner worked the edge of this bank with a dry fly, casting 3-8 feet from shore, picking up a number of fish. I trailed behind him, batting clean-up, nymphing a Prince Nymph below an indicator, and got a couple more. 

Man, this spot was a was a heartbreaker. I hooked two good fish drifting a dry along the far side of the log, but both fish wrapped me up in the wood and broke off. My partner hooked a third fish, but seeing what I had just been through, he put the boots to the fish and horsed it in.

These small orange and black butterflies were a common sight throughout the week; I believe they are Northern Crescents. One day I was the butterflyman as they were all over me; I had three on my right hand as I was fishing!

You are reminded how much of a substantial snack a stonefly nymph is to a fish when you see a large shuck on a rock.

My partner and I are relatively new to moving waters in the East Kootenay's and came across our first stonefly hatch, golden stones we believe. The stoneflies were drifting downstream with the current, some collecting in an eddy at our feet, others getting picked off by cutthroat. My partner would land his stonefly imitation fly alongside the natural and more times than not the fish ignored his fly and chose the natural!

The stoneflies drifting downstream didn't jive with our understanding of their behaviour. After consulting our reference books and other anglers, it seems that the stoneflies weren't hatching at all, but had hatched previously and the drifting ones had gotten knocked into the water from shoreside trees.   

Seeing stoneflies in the water happened early on in our trip so various stonefly patterns became a go-to pattern too.

This run produced three nice fish for me; two on a stonefly pattern and one on an elk hair caddis.  Between the main current and the gravel shelf was a window seam of slow moving water.

While I was catching fish at the spot above, my partner wandered downstream and found a bunch of nice fish tucked into this pool.

I thoroughly enjoy walking along streams. Sure, nothing beats a drift boat for covering water, but I love discovering what's in, and around, streams: animal tracks, scat, … and fossils!  In previous blogs I've effused about fossils I've found; sorry, this will be no different. 

The mountains of East Kootenays are home to a number of "fossiliferous stratigraphic units", for example the Kootenay Group and the McKay Group.  These geologic groups have outcrops and exposures where fossils can be found and we were fishing a drainage not far from one of these exposures. Water is the great mover of material so I am always keeping my eyes peeled when I'm walking along a floodplain. 

And I found this beauty. It curves around the rock; the first picture is of the head, the second picture is down the length of the body. It measures about 5" long and 1.25" wide. I thought it was a trilobite but the contributors of an online fossil forum thought it looked like a cross section through an orthocone cephalopod/nautiliod.  I had to Google that to learn more about it! Super pleased to have found it and I'm delighted in the detail in it.

This was a first for me! A largescale sucker on a drifted nymph. Just shortly before this, my partner had his own first: an eastern brook trout, on a dry fly. 

A log jam formed this current break and, by snapping off a branch, I created a casting lane with room for one person. We practiced a version of rotational angling; when you hooked a fish, or had a couple of drifts with no hookup, you stepped aside and the other guy had a go at it. We hooked a number of fish alternating like that.

Hiking into a spot we came across not one skeleton, but two. Most likely left by hunters, but still your spidey senses perk up and you look around a bit more! 

If there was one fish that stood out, it was an aggressive cutthroat that I spied moving along the edge of a gravel bar that dropped down into a deep pool with strong current.  He was holding on the edge of the bar, not far below the surface; a little odd to see him there.  I had on an indicator/nymph rig at the time and on two subsequent drifts he struck at the indicator; once he held onto it so firmly that he was actually tugging on my line. On the third drift, I held the indicator back so that the nymph swung up in front of his face. If he couldn't resist a small round piece of white foam, he certainly didn't resist a perfectly tied nymph, and he quickly came to hand. 

Yours truly with a westslope cutthroat that rose to a dry fly. My first time wearing a straw Panama hat. With the sunny, hot conditions that we fished in all week, a broad brimmed hat, instead of my usual ball cap, was ideal.  We waded wet, without waders, the whole week too. Quick dry pants kept our legs from getting thrashed during bushwhacking and the cold water was refreshing! 

It was an outstanding week. As I'm prone to say, I caught more fish that I deserved. But having said that, I'm getting more skilful at stream fishing and we worked our asses off. Six straight days of walking, wading, slipping, bushwhacking, yelling "Hey Bear!", and scaling steep banks. So maybe I deserved those fish after all?