I always thought the environment was important, and have been picking up any trash I see along the trails I hike for as long as I can remember, but fly fishing has opened up a deeper understanding of environmental protection to me. With events such as the coal ash spills into the Dan river, algae toxins in Toledo, the coal mining chemical spill in West Virginia, and various other water contamination issues, it becomes more and more evident to me that we need to protect our water, and preserve whole river ecosystems. I don't really know how to get started on my end, but I have a few ideas for the Outdoor Club I sponsor through work. I hope to get students as excited about these topics, and get our feet wet both literally and figuratively with regards to making a difference locally.
TU Headwaters (short) from TwoFisted Heart Productions on Vimeo.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
The Smell of Home
My family just got back from our Montana/Canada trip about a week ago. It was an amazing trip. That area is so gorgeous! We landed in Calgary on a Saturday and drove with Janet's brother Brian (not to be confused with my brother Brian, who lives MUCH closer to us) to his home in a quaint village about 3 hours from there. It was the perfect time to arrive because the canola was in full bloom (which I had never seen before) painting the landscape with a brilliant yellow contrasted by the dark blue/purple of the mountains. I regret not getting a picture, but I loved looking at it as we drove through the Canadian countryside. The following morning we continued our journey (now with Brian's wife who was working most of the day Saturday) to Whitefish, Montana via the Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park. Words cannot describe the grandeur of Glacier. The mountains and glacier cut valleys are so incredibly majestic - the way they tower over you and how the valleys seem to go on forever through the jagged cliffs. There are waterfalls everywhere as well. I would love to spend more time there and do some backpacking. I firmly believe that you cannot soak in an area be it a grandiose wilderness created by God's hands or a man-made concrete jungle (I much prefer the former) unless you do so on human power: walk, or canoe. As much as I love white water rafting and mountain biking, I feel as though those are too fast to have a deep connection to the area. They become more about the activity than the location; however, they are much better than staying in a car. To better take in the views as we drove through Glacier (and snap pictures), I spent a little time hanging out the window of our vehicle. It was the best I could do in that situation.
Our arrival day in Whitefish was pretty uneventful, as was our first full day (Monday). We got settled in, and everybody went shopping (Brian and Devynn did a ton to take advantage of cheaper U.S. prices, and the lack of sales tax in Montana). I found a Cabellas, and bought a fishing licence, as well as a tool to straiten out my leader which is always curled from being on the reel, and a couple of flies I have been wanting. I can't wait to learn to tie flies. It seems like it would be a much cheaper option. I love the artsy fartsy-ness as well as the idea of catching a fish on a fly that I created/tied. Anyway, after Cabellas (I had gone with Janet's dad, and Brian) we met up with the rest of the family at Costco, and I quickly cruised the store for samples. They had some meat balls that were pretty good, and some juice that Janet absolutely loved. That night I believe was when I took some of the kids fishing at the pond at our condo. They were pretty young (six, eight and eight) and none had ever seen a fly rod, so I gave them my net and told them they could scoop up anything I caught. Like usual, my efforts were fruitless. We saw several fish rising, and watched one come out from under the dock and check out a wooly bugger I was fishing with. The boys really liked that.
Tuesday was my big fishing day. I had prepared and found an area I wanted to fish (I looked up on some blogs and online fly shops and decided to go to the South Fork of the Flathead). I almost backed out of fishing because the rest of the family was going hiking in Glacier, and I really didn't want to miss out on that. I was dropped off in the closest neighborhood I could find to the river, hoping that I could find a trail to the river. I felt a little odd wandering through the neighborhood, but I quickly found a trail and started walking upstream to find somewhere to start. Almost immediately I saw a place that looked great, but somebody was already fishing there. I kept walking up the trail/road and soon an old Land Cruiser drove by with three guys in it. They stopped and the driver came out to ask me about the river. If memory serves his name was Bob. I told him I wasn't from the area, and I didn't know much about it. He hadn't fished there, but knew more than me. He informed me that there was a dam about a mile up the road so there wasn't much more fishing upstream. He also informed me that I needed to listen for sirens later in the day that signaled the release of more water, warning people who are wading to seek high ground. I thanked him and continued upstream to look for somewhere to fish. Later on the same group passed me on their way back from the dam. They hadn't found anywhere good to fish, and said the access got steeper the closer you got to the dam. They offered me a ride back downstream. They were super nice. I don't remember much about the other two in the car, but Bob was an avid fly-fisherman, and a university professor. He taught for several years in public schools and worked his way through administration to his current position. It was cool to talk to someone who had traveled the path I am just beginning. After a few minutes we pulled over and found a pretty decent place to fish. I felt awkward because I'm all self taught so part of me wanted to avoid them, and part of me wanted to crash their party and pick their brains. The part that wanted to avoid them won.... and I went about 100-150 yards upstream of them to fish.
The water was cold, but not as cold as I expected it to be. Soon, I had put my rod together, had strung up my line, and was casting in the river. It was so different from the small stream that I have been learning to fish on here. I had no clue what I was doing, but I didn't want the group downstream of me to know that. I started fishing what I believe is called a dry-dropper. I had a big foam chernobyl ant (I read those were good in this area during late July) with a copper john dropped under it. I never caught anything. I quickly lost the copper john to some trees, and soon after lost my san juan worm to a lousy knot. I lost another fly on this trip but I don't remember what it was. I learned to check and double check my knots, because two of them were lost just through casting. This was already feeling like my typical fishing trip. I had waded in so I was up to my thighs but not quite to my tender spot. I stayed in that spot for a while, probably half an hour. When I tried to move I realized my legs were going numb, and I almost tripped. Somehow I kept my ground, but I realized I needed to get out and get moving to get the blood flowing in my legs again.
After a while I found a better spot to fish from that was a little further downstream. There were more boulders in the area. Boulders = hiding spots for fish to feed from + somewhere out of the water to fish from. It was a good deal. As soon as I got up on one of the rocks I could see some huge trout along the bottom of the river just on the other side of the boulders. They had to be the fabled bull trout I had read about. My guess would be that they were somewhere around 20-25" long or more. It's hard to tell from that distance and through the water though. I kept trying to put any nymph or streamer I had in front of them. I tried several configurations to add weight to the line so it would get down to them. Everything I put in front of them they snubbed. Wouldn't even budge. As I was stripping a muddler minnow towards them I hooked a smaller fish. My guess is that it was around 10 inches. It was hiding somewhere behind the bigger fish. I reeled it in and got a better look at it. Pretty sure it was a rainbow. I held it close to me as I fumbled to unhook my net from the carabiner that was holding it. Alas, the fish shook my hook before I could get the net off my waist. I held it long enough though that I will consider it caught. In retrospect the fish hung out in the shallows for a while before it swam off. I think I wore him out. I could probably have walked over and netted it still, for photo evidence, but I didn't think of it at the time. I tried from that spot for about another hour before moving on, not having any more success. I saw several other anglers on the water, and I didn't see anybody hook anything.
The rest of the week was pretty awesome. It included an adventure park with go carts and mini-golf, bowling and pizza, and kayaking/canoeing on Whitefish Lake. We drove back through Glacier to Canada on Friday. I slept through most of that. Little J wasn't sleeping well on this trip Mommy and Daddy didn't sleep well either. Other than that he was super awesome, and everybody loved seeing him. Janet's nephew got baptized Friday night. On Saturday a group of us went to the Cardston, Alberta Temple. It was such a beautiful building! I was enthralled by the woodwork and the colors. There were intricate inlays throughout the dark walnut. It was gorgeous. Saturday afternoon and Sunday we hung out, and I played soccer with the kiddos. Monday we flew home. In all it was an awesome trip. So glad we did it, but it definitely wore us out. It's rough traveling with a wee one, and we want to hold off on big trips like this for a bit. We did two big ones this year (Colorado, and Canada) and I think that's enough.
 |
| Old Chief as seen from the U.S. - Canada border |
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| Next to Avalanche Creek in Glacier National Park |
Our arrival day in Whitefish was pretty uneventful, as was our first full day (Monday). We got settled in, and everybody went shopping (Brian and Devynn did a ton to take advantage of cheaper U.S. prices, and the lack of sales tax in Montana). I found a Cabellas, and bought a fishing licence, as well as a tool to straiten out my leader which is always curled from being on the reel, and a couple of flies I have been wanting. I can't wait to learn to tie flies. It seems like it would be a much cheaper option. I love the artsy fartsy-ness as well as the idea of catching a fish on a fly that I created/tied. Anyway, after Cabellas (I had gone with Janet's dad, and Brian) we met up with the rest of the family at Costco, and I quickly cruised the store for samples. They had some meat balls that were pretty good, and some juice that Janet absolutely loved. That night I believe was when I took some of the kids fishing at the pond at our condo. They were pretty young (six, eight and eight) and none had ever seen a fly rod, so I gave them my net and told them they could scoop up anything I caught. Like usual, my efforts were fruitless. We saw several fish rising, and watched one come out from under the dock and check out a wooly bugger I was fishing with. The boys really liked that.
Tuesday was my big fishing day. I had prepared and found an area I wanted to fish (I looked up on some blogs and online fly shops and decided to go to the South Fork of the Flathead). I almost backed out of fishing because the rest of the family was going hiking in Glacier, and I really didn't want to miss out on that. I was dropped off in the closest neighborhood I could find to the river, hoping that I could find a trail to the river. I felt a little odd wandering through the neighborhood, but I quickly found a trail and started walking upstream to find somewhere to start. Almost immediately I saw a place that looked great, but somebody was already fishing there. I kept walking up the trail/road and soon an old Land Cruiser drove by with three guys in it. They stopped and the driver came out to ask me about the river. If memory serves his name was Bob. I told him I wasn't from the area, and I didn't know much about it. He hadn't fished there, but knew more than me. He informed me that there was a dam about a mile up the road so there wasn't much more fishing upstream. He also informed me that I needed to listen for sirens later in the day that signaled the release of more water, warning people who are wading to seek high ground. I thanked him and continued upstream to look for somewhere to fish. Later on the same group passed me on their way back from the dam. They hadn't found anywhere good to fish, and said the access got steeper the closer you got to the dam. They offered me a ride back downstream. They were super nice. I don't remember much about the other two in the car, but Bob was an avid fly-fisherman, and a university professor. He taught for several years in public schools and worked his way through administration to his current position. It was cool to talk to someone who had traveled the path I am just beginning. After a few minutes we pulled over and found a pretty decent place to fish. I felt awkward because I'm all self taught so part of me wanted to avoid them, and part of me wanted to crash their party and pick their brains. The part that wanted to avoid them won.... and I went about 100-150 yards upstream of them to fish.
The water was cold, but not as cold as I expected it to be. Soon, I had put my rod together, had strung up my line, and was casting in the river. It was so different from the small stream that I have been learning to fish on here. I had no clue what I was doing, but I didn't want the group downstream of me to know that. I started fishing what I believe is called a dry-dropper. I had a big foam chernobyl ant (I read those were good in this area during late July) with a copper john dropped under it. I never caught anything. I quickly lost the copper john to some trees, and soon after lost my san juan worm to a lousy knot. I lost another fly on this trip but I don't remember what it was. I learned to check and double check my knots, because two of them were lost just through casting. This was already feeling like my typical fishing trip. I had waded in so I was up to my thighs but not quite to my tender spot. I stayed in that spot for a while, probably half an hour. When I tried to move I realized my legs were going numb, and I almost tripped. Somehow I kept my ground, but I realized I needed to get out and get moving to get the blood flowing in my legs again.
.jpg) |
| South Fork of the Flathead |
After a while I found a better spot to fish from that was a little further downstream. There were more boulders in the area. Boulders = hiding spots for fish to feed from + somewhere out of the water to fish from. It was a good deal. As soon as I got up on one of the rocks I could see some huge trout along the bottom of the river just on the other side of the boulders. They had to be the fabled bull trout I had read about. My guess would be that they were somewhere around 20-25" long or more. It's hard to tell from that distance and through the water though. I kept trying to put any nymph or streamer I had in front of them. I tried several configurations to add weight to the line so it would get down to them. Everything I put in front of them they snubbed. Wouldn't even budge. As I was stripping a muddler minnow towards them I hooked a smaller fish. My guess is that it was around 10 inches. It was hiding somewhere behind the bigger fish. I reeled it in and got a better look at it. Pretty sure it was a rainbow. I held it close to me as I fumbled to unhook my net from the carabiner that was holding it. Alas, the fish shook my hook before I could get the net off my waist. I held it long enough though that I will consider it caught. In retrospect the fish hung out in the shallows for a while before it swam off. I think I wore him out. I could probably have walked over and netted it still, for photo evidence, but I didn't think of it at the time. I tried from that spot for about another hour before moving on, not having any more success. I saw several other anglers on the water, and I didn't see anybody hook anything.
The rest of the week was pretty awesome. It included an adventure park with go carts and mini-golf, bowling and pizza, and kayaking/canoeing on Whitefish Lake. We drove back through Glacier to Canada on Friday. I slept through most of that. Little J wasn't sleeping well on this trip Mommy and Daddy didn't sleep well either. Other than that he was super awesome, and everybody loved seeing him. Janet's nephew got baptized Friday night. On Saturday a group of us went to the Cardston, Alberta Temple. It was such a beautiful building! I was enthralled by the woodwork and the colors. There were intricate inlays throughout the dark walnut. It was gorgeous. Saturday afternoon and Sunday we hung out, and I played soccer with the kiddos. Monday we flew home. In all it was an awesome trip. So glad we did it, but it definitely wore us out. It's rough traveling with a wee one, and we want to hold off on big trips like this for a bit. We did two big ones this year (Colorado, and Canada) and I think that's enough.
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