"Operation Rainbow Pout," September 2015

Okay so I've slacked a little these past two months and haven't recorded a fishing blog for September or October. So I present to you the following post for September, "Operation Rainbow Pout." Hope you enjoy reading about that day as much as I enjoyed the events that unfolded that crisp September day.

My brother Jordan, friend Dave and I went on what was to be a laid back fly fishing adventure to seek out some Grayling in early September. The events that unfolded that day couldn't have been more comedic and and memorable, one of my favourite days of the 2015 season. I cannot recall the name of this Grayling stream for the life of me so I've dubbed it the "Samsquanchy" river in place of the Native Canadian name it's truly called. Not in spite or ignorance, just simply because I can't recall it's true name and likely never will. Yet "Samsquanchy" is how my brain has catalogued the name of this creek and filed it for future reference. My brother Jordan and I fished this creek in mid August on a total whim and had huge success. So I thought this would be the perfect place to take Dave for his first ever fly fishing trip on a river. Not only is the river easily accessible from the road, it's perfect for beginners who don't have to worry about making long casts. It reminds me of a quaint little stream in central Alberta called Shunda Creek, just east of the town of Nordegg.

The day started out quite crisp and a bit suspect for a gloomy rainy day but that didn't stop the three of us from seeking out a few Grayling on the fly. Dave and I loaded our gear in my truck and headed out to pick up Jordan. On the way out of the city to get Jordan, I had this gut feeling that I was missing something, but I had triple checked my gear bag so I thought nothing more about it. Little did I know that I was about to find out what was missing an hour and a half later.

As we pull off the highway and make our journey down a very sloppy mud road we could see a truck pulled over on the opposite side of the road and the first thing I thought was this guy is stuck and needs us to help pull him free. I couldn't have been more wrong, it was a fish cop. He lights us up and that's when my stomach reminded me I forgot to check if I had my licence!! The fish and game officer was a jovial man, mostly looking out for hunters and fire arm violators. Not three young fishing nerds who happen to venture down his oil road in search of epic eight inch fish. Then the question I was dreading and trying my best to stall the officer from asking was, "So if you boys aren't hunters what brings you out here?" Stomach now fully in my throat, I reply back "We're on our way to test our luck on some Grayling streams that at times intersect this road." Which the officer quickly responded with, "So you boy's wouldn't mind showing me your licences then?" We respond, "No" and I start to panic. Now normally I keep my licence in my waders or in my vest pocket so I'm not totally freaked. But as I start to rummage around all the usual places I keep my licence and it's no place to be found, I start to sweat. So like a good citizen I admit defeat and claim I have one but it's no place to be found currently. Which the officer then asks for my contact info and wildlife ID card number (WIN), that I did have and send us on our way.

Back in the truck, Dave and Jordan start to make fun of me to which my reply was, "I am sure I will find it as soon as I put my waders on," however they did have a good laugh at my expense. Now that we had reached the river and started to gear up, "I was right!" I proclaimed. As I slid my right foot into my waders. With a "Crunch," there's my licence in the bottom of my right pant leg. The plastic locking bag my licence was in, had fallen out of the inside pocket of my waders and slid down into the foot of my waders. Again with the laughing, from the peanut gallery, Dave and Jordan.

All geared up the three of us ventured up stream of where Jordan and I had fished back in August. We fished upstream for about two hours and only ran across two very small Grayling and only three fish holding worthy pools. The remainder of the upper section of creek was fairly flat. So we returned to the truck and drove to the lower section where Jordan and I had fished earlier in August. This lower section I knew at least held fish and that we would have the best chance at all of us getting hooked up on a few Grayling.

As the three of us made our way down stream we finally hit what I call the "Grayling Layer," and no Jordan I didn't spell that wrong. The "Grayling Layer" is the lower section of this creek where it's time to go dry fly only, size 14 or smaller seems to be key and the put up or shut up rule takes place. My selection of dry flies consisted Elk Hair Caddis, Stimulator's and Yellow Foam Hybrid Hopper, as shown below. I put Dave on a Elk Hair, Jordan on a Stim and I took the Hybrid to start. I left Jordan and Dave to work the first pool and waited for them to make their way to me at the next pool. On my first two cast I had two fish and waved for Dave to make his way to me in the hopes of putting him on his first ever Grayling. The next series of photo's and video's show the results of what would be Dave's first Grayling ever. Between the three of us we tallied twelve fish out of one small pool, on dry's and smiles were had all around.

I could go on and on about the rest of the Grayling fishing but let me jump ahead to title of this post "Operation Rainbow Pout." In the midst of a brief sun shower Dave and I hear Jordan muttering to himself and cursing under his breath. I ask my brother what his damage is and he tells tail about how this big at least 16" Rainbow Trout came up to his fly twice and he missed it both times. Needless to say he was a bit chapped at himself so Dave and I didn't let his poor fishing go unnoticed, now Dave and I were the peanut gallery. As we fished the remaining three pools, Dave and I had to listen to Jordan cry about how he was going to get his revenge on this Rainbow on our way back up stream. So being the evil big brother I hatched a plan, unannounced to either of them so that "IF" that pool did have this so called big Rainbow I was going to get first crack at it.

At the last pool I announce my plan to the two of them. "Hey great day boys, can't wait to come do it again next fall," and this is where my evil plot unfolds. With out even being questioned by Dave or Jordan I might add, I lay out the following. "Do you boys feel like playing a game on the way back upstream?" To which they respond, "Okay!" This is too perfect, I have them in my hands! "Well here's the game, We go oldest to youngest, score one point per fish and you only get five casts per pool," I remark. They agree to it but Jordan doesn't pick up that this puts me as the first to cast to his beloved so called "Trophy Rainbow," by this point. We fished the three pools on the way back and the whole time I am barking rules and such on the fly, not once being questioned as to my reasoning.

We get to the hole were said Rainbow lay and it's my turn to lay waste to the pool in five casts or less. I state the score, just to add an element of distraction, Kevin 2, Jordan 2 and Dave 2. Or something like that, it really didn't matter it was all a ploy to tick my brother off if I was catch his so called "Big" trout. Just before I cast I ask Jordan to point out where said Rainbow had come up to his fly and without hesitation he points at the head of the pool. At this point I am starting to grin cause if I lay the perfect cast and the fist takes my fly you will be able to hear the sound of my brother's jaw hitting the river rocks and Dave laughing from three miles away.

Just to add a little more flair to the day I went with my four weight rod with a 5x fluorocarbon leader. So in the back of my mind as I am about to cast I think well if there is a Rainbow Trout of 16" then there is a chance he could break me off before we got a look at him. I line up my target and lay the line down and it couldn't have been a more perfect cast. Smooth drag free drift and that's when it happened, sip and down goes my fly! I know this is a good fish and now announce quite animated, "I think your right about that FN trout brother!" If you know Rainbows you know that they like to get airborne and that's what sealed the deal. Two feet from our feet this bow goes aerial and dashes the hopes and dreams of my brother. Beautiful pink stripe set upon a back drop of chrome and fallen trees, while Dave and I burst into laughter at Jordan's expense. All the while Jordan stands on the bank arms folded and then here it comes, "You Cheated!" he exclaims. By this point I couldn't acknowledge his response as the laughter from the peanut gallery was at the level of a 747 jet at full roar. Oh and I did lose the fish, as she returned to the river my leader let me down and the fly broke off. But that wasn't the only thing that beautiful "16 inch" broke, I think she broke Jordan's heart in the process.

"Well at least there's something to look forward to for next season," I state. To which the response from Jordan was a huff and a walk away from Dave and I in a full out fit of laughter. Looking forward to writing the follow up to this when we go back next fall, to be continued!