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From an outdoors and fishing perspective, it would be difficult for me to come up with a better year than this one. I've had two fantastic hikes (well one fantastic, and one a bit scary) with my wife, my first backcountry overnight trip with some of the best fishing I've ever experienced, and the most recent trip......

 

My brother called me a few months ago wanting to try to make a trip from Houston to camp and fish this fall. After a lot of back and forth, and a unfortunate cancellation from a brother in law in San Antonio, we came up with a trip to some BC cutty water with my youngest brother, my brother in law (never touched a fly rod before this) and my son, with the latter two driving down from Edmonton. Everyone got to town on Thursday afternoon and evening, we had a few drinks with the boys and some friends, and at 5:15 am my truck and trailer pulled out of the driveway for the long drive. I expected everyone to sleep, but with the exception of my 19 yr old, everyone stayed awake and told stories for the 5 hours or so it took us to get to the campsite. I could go into excruciating detail on the fishing, but lets just say the fishing was fantastic. We also did a hike on day two to a gorgeous high alpine lake loaded with little cutts. There was actually a boat that someone heli'd in, so you could row out to and try your luck with the fish in the middle. That took the whole day, with more river fishing on Day 3. And Day 3 is the best story.

 

My brother and I got up pretty early and decided to go scout some new water. We drove down an old road that I had never been down before until it ended about 200 m from the river. We bushwhacked our way down and it did not take long to realize that we had found the place we would fish that day. Made our way back to the camp site, ate a hearty breakfast, loaded up the gear and off we went. We decided that my brother and I would walk downstream from where we parked and fish back to the truck, and the brother in law and son would fish up to the campsite.

 

The brother and I make the walk upstream. As it is still pretty early, nothing is happening on top yet, and we swing some white buggers through some likely looking water. A couple of takes, but nothing to hand. After about 15 minutes of walking, my brother is a bit ahead of me when he says "you need to see this." I walk down and come face to face with the perfect cutty run. Fast water into a drop off, another drop off just behind, 2 big pools and LOTS of deadfall. I find these rivers fish unlike anything in Alberta, in that if you don't see fish rising, you are 100% wasting your time on surface. We swing a few buggers through, and get some follows. My brother hooks and lands a nice cutt on a white bugger (this is his second time fly fishing and he did really well!), but overall it was slower than I would have thought. I put on a little PT, and things changed for the better one might say. After I got two, I gave the rod to my brother and taught him how to nymph a bit. He starts catching fish as well. About that time I see my first rise, clip off the nymph and begin the process of changing flies about every 10 casts. The sequence was: see rising fish, cast to him and get him on the first drift. Cast to other rising fish, with nothing. Oh, they would take flies right next to your fly and would sometimes take bugs right off your fly line. But your fly, forget it. Change fly. Catch one fish. Repeat process. The only variation would be change fly, catch no fish, change fly again. But regardless, the fishing was ridiculously good.

 

I had been radioing my son pretty frequently. They are not having quite as much luck. This was my brother in law's first fly fishing experience, and maybe his first small stream experience ever. We called his casting style "tomohawk chop!" Look up Hank Peterson, fly fishing guide on FB. I think the B-I-L took lessons from him. They had caught a few fish, but are not having near the day we are.....

 

At about 1 PM, I see two COs coming our way. Unfortunately, both our wallets were back in the truck, so we all make our way back that way. I mention that my son is upstream going toward our campsite. They asked me to radio ahead for them to meet at the campsite so they could check everyone out. The one CO said "we had seen you catching fish from the road on the other side, and knew you weren't going anywhere!"

Anyway, we all meet at the campground. My son did get a ticket for leaving his license in Calgary (but was told if he emailed it in within 5 days it would be ok). After chatting with the COs (and getting TONS of info for later trips), we had a conversation on what to do next. It's about 2 PM by this point. I've had a great day, as had my brother. My son and B-I-L though not as much and my son asks if we can have a bit of time up where my brother and I were. Everyone is ok with the idea, so back we go.

 

To make a LONG story just long, the afternoon was epic. Ben gets a bunch of fish on a little drake. The B-I-L gets some on a nymph (don't judge, he can only cast like 10 ft!) and my brother takes some more fish up top. I catch the biggest fish of the trip off a log (after about 1,000,000 refusals) at about 3:30 and tell everyone that I'm going to go back and hook up the trailer and come back and pick everyone up in about 30-45 minutes.

 

After I get to camp, we get the first rain of the trip. The trailer is already all buttoned up to go, but all our bags are underneath. I pull them out in the rain and put them in the trunk section of my ridgeline so they can stay dry. Unfortunately, my son's bag had literally all his clothes. He worked up north all summer, and had just gotten back to school this week. So he's been living out of the bag, and had not packed specifically for this trip. This bag is the size of a house. So I decide that i'm going to have to toss it in the bed. I hook up the trailer and head back to get the boys.

 

The goat trail to the river is far too rough for the trailer, so I unhook real quick and head down. I've radioed ahead and everyone is there waiting. It is starting to rain harder, so everyone just throws the rods in the car. My brother asks where the clothes are and I tell him in the trunk. My son says, "dad, where's my suitcase." "In the bed." "No it isn't." "Yes it is!". Uh, no it wasn't. shiz. I left it back at the camp. So we pile in the truck, drive past the trailer, back to camp. No suitcase. Ask the hunters in the next campsite. No, they hadn't seen it. The only thing I can figure is that the two friends of mine camping a couple miles away must have come for a visit and picked it up. But that didn't really make sense to me. They would not leave the water in the middle of the day. I figured they were just hiding under a tree waiting out the rain.

 

So I tell my son that he could just go buy clothes and tell me how much they cost. However we lost it, it was my fault for leaving it.

 

On our way back to the trailer, my brother asks me "you sure you pulled it out from under the trailer?" (note: this is called "foreshadowing") I say, for sure. I remember specifically seeing it next to the tree after I pulled it out." As we get close to the trailer, I hear hysterical laughter coming from my brother. "It's under the trailer isn't it." He's laughing so hard he cannot answer., just nods his head and points.

 

I pull the truck over to hook up, and 3 guys get out of a truck faster than you would have thought possible. They run over to the trailer giggling like 12 yr old girls and taking pictures. We hook up, and I have to back up the trailer to free the case. The case that I just drug, under a tent trailer, for about 3 km. After the case is freed, I see more flashes of cameras, more hysterical laughter, blah, blah. "Come see!" my brother shouts. "I'm good." Everyone keeps trying to get me to come out, but I prefer my shame in silence. And trust me, there was shame.

 

So they get in the truck, then the haranguing starts. "I thought you said you pulled it out!!" "I thought I did". "Yeah, whatever. You're just making shiz up aren't you?" "Early onset Alzheimer's, eh Rick?" and on, and on, and on. My helpful BIL tells my son "you basically have a get out of jail free card. Any time your dad gets on you for doing something stupid, all you have to say is 'suitcase!' and he has to leave you alone." I'm thinking this is fantastic, I've just given my son a hidden immunity idol. And he is smart, and patient. This will 100% for sure come back to haunt me.

 

So that's pretty much the story of the suitcase. I could tell about how I forgot to turn off the furnace, had to open the trailer back up, hit the wrong lever and didn't turn it off properly again, had to reopen the trailer, blah, blah, or about the flat tire on the way out. But I think FFC might have a word limit I'm approaching. That or you can only be idiotic so many times in the same story and people start to believe you are making shiz up. At least people who don't know me would think that. Those that know me are saying "there really is no limit to the number of stupid things he can do."

 

Next adventure is in October. Can't wait.

Posted

I'm already about 1/3 of the way there I figure Ron. Wrote that over lunch. Two more lunches and I should have enough words for a novel. I can crank it out like Stephen King on coke, minus any semblance of talent.

Posted
"Early onset Alzheimer's, eh Rick?"

 

Early?

Hardly. :angel:smail:

 

Great story, Tex; made me laugh!

Glad to hear y'all had some great feeshin'; nice!

 

Posted

Well it's good to see even the verbose texican guy has random brainfarts just like the rest of us OFers. Welcome to The Crew

 

 

 

 

 

BTW Rick.. It ain't just them BC fish that are bein' picky like that. Just spent 4 days in the upper OM and other than the random dink, you were huntin' snouts.

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