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Time! Time out!” I hollered. It had only been about ten minutes since my last “time out”.
Oncorhynchus mykiss aguabonita was already proving to be a worthy foe. The hike in was almost totally vertical and I marveled at how the old growth Douglas fir and spruce around me managed to stay anchored at such a steep incline. My fishing buddy Riley and his black Lab Marley didn’t seem to be quite as winded as me, but patiently tolerated my frequent breaks.
“These fish better be worth it,” I thought to myself, as I huffed, puffed and crawled my way up the continental divide with an overweight pack. I fantasized about scattering its contents all across the avalanche chute we were following. Eventually, after about three kilometres of very steep terrain, the trail finally leveled off into a distinguishable path and pleasant hike through ancient forest.
We had attempted this hike the summer before but foolishly neglected to seek any local advice or directions; instead, confident in our GPS coordinates and expert woodsmanship. As a result, we spent two days aimlessly wandering the Rocky Mountain wilderness of southwestern Alberta, crossing several mountain ranges and even ending up on the BC side at one point but never once glimpsing the mythical waters we were seeking.
This time we stopped by the Crowsnest Angler to ask local fly-fishing guru Vic Bergman where we went wrong. At first, he gave us vague, general instructions; however, after the other customers had left and some good fly-fishing discussion, he must have decided we were worthy and scribbled us a crude map on a napkin, which is how all the best treasure maps are drawn.
It was about noon when we finally arrived at Rainy Ridge Lake. You don’t see it at first, but rather stumble out of the bush and onto its shore. I was a bit surprised at both its small size and astonishing beauty. The water was crystal green and clear enough to see the rocky bottom. It was two-thirds forested on one side with a scree slope settling into a boulder garden extending right to the water’s edge for the rest. There were even signs of life! The unmistakable dimples of rises could be seen periodically. We hurriedly set up camp and rushed off to try our luck.
I perched myself on a large boulder and started out with a #14 elk hair caddis type of dry fly, casting to the latest rise and letting it sit for a few minutes or until the temptation of other rises became too distracting. It took a few casts but eventually my patience paid off and my fly disappeared into a swirling ripple. I set the hook! The golden trout fought hard and I could tell he was a decent size, taking a couple of runs with my ultra-light leader. I was finally able to wrestle him close to shore and slid the shimmering golden slab into my net to get a better look.
It was a brilliantly coloured 12-inch male, olive green intensifying into smears of deep pumpkin over a cream-coloured belly with a bright pink band slashing across his side. He even sported a slight kype on his bottom jaw.
After snapping a few quick pictures, I carefully released him. My first golden trout was a beauty!
Golden trout fishing in southern Alberta takes persistence and the action after that was slow. I caught fish using both small dry caddis imitations and bead head nymphs. Make your hook sets count because the strikes are often far and few between. In general, patience will be rewarded. Besides, one hardly notices time in such a breathtaking setting.
Seeking out local knowledge of the area is essential and only experienced hikers should attempt to access these lakes.
For tackle, I would recommend an assortment of small (sizes 16-22) mayfly and caddis patterns such as elk hair, stimulators and blue winged olives, along with bead head nymphs and small leaches.
Please practice diligent catch-and-release if you are rewarded with one of these rare and stunning specimens. Alberta’s golden trout are the only ones in Canada and the only ones there ever will be, since shipments from their native waters in California are no longer available.
In total, I landed five before we headed out the next morning. Riley caught two but made up for it by hauling a monster 24-inch bull trout out of the Oldman River on the way home (on a streamer pattern of his own invention).
It was a great fishing trip and we were already planning our next visit to the area on the ride home. ■
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