The challenges and rewards of chasing Alberta’s brown trout on the fly

SPRING CREEKS

While freestones are supplied by runoff and snowmelt, spring creeks are fed, as the name suggests, by natural springs, providing a relatively consistent supply of cool water throughout the year. As well, water depths remain pretty consistent and generally run fairly clear through the seasons.

In Alberta, the two most well-known spring creeks are the Raven River and Stauffer Creek (a.k.a. North Raven River), and they are the bane of my brown trout life. If I ever end up on a psychiatrist’s couch, you can undoubtedly trace the roots of my problem to days spent fishing those two streams.

The challenges on these waters are many: streambank willow and alder thickets that can make it near impossible to backcast (you’d better perfect your roll-cast if you want to fish here); silty substrates that suck at your waders and your will to live; a crosshatch of barbed-wire fences that you repeatedly have to slither under or hop, skip and jump over; and finally, steep banks that force you to glissade into the creek (hoping all the while you don’t land in a beaver run).

Then there are the brown trout themselves. At the mere hint of a strange shadow or an unnatural ripple, they’ll bury themselves under the grass-lined banks or into the inevitable tangle of beaver food caches. They can also be über-selective about what they’ll eat—and when they’ll eat it. And if by some stroke of luck you do manage to trick a big one into taking your fly, your chances of landing it in the tight confines of these logjam-infused streams are slim, at best. All in all, Alberta’s spring creek experience is a test of patience and restraint. Stauffer Creek, in particular, has long been referred to as the PhD of Alberta’s trout streams, given how difficult the fishing can be.

At the mere hint of a strange shadow or an unnatural ripple, browns will bury themselves under the grass-lined banks

I’ve regularly fished the Raven and Stauffer over the decades. These past few years, in fact, I’ve fished one or both of them two or three times annually with my friend Bruce Tilbrook, and typically an equal number of times by myself. (For some reason, I seem to exhibit more patience fishing solo on spring creeks than when I’m with a partner. I don’t think I really want to know what that says about my personality, but undoubtedly it’s a topic I’ll be asked about by the aforementioned psychiatrist.)

Bruce guided on these streams many years ago, and he’s become my unofficial brown trout sensei for such waters. He’s patiently taught me where and how to find the fish, how to wade quietly when you’re concurrently up to your chest in water and your knees in mud, and how to make a reasonable cast while contorting yourself into positions the Kama Sutra never imagined.

As a well-respected fly tier, Bruce has also shared with me the importance of being strategic about the pattern you select. While they’ll eat pretty much anything on freestone streams, nowhere are brown trout more attuned to specific insect hatches than on spring creeks.

Nowhere are brown trout more attuned to specific insect hatches than on spring creeks

That’s why anglers who regularly fish the Raven and Stauffer habitually follow and mimic the hatches. It starts with the blue-winged olives in spring, then the green drakes in early June, followed closely by the brown drakes. The pale morning duns take over in late June and early July, followed by the various caddis hatches. When late August and early September roll around, it’s time to tie on hopper and backswimmer patterns.

Surprisingly, one of the counterintuitive characteristics of spring creek browns is that they’re not especially leader-shy. If you can get within range of a rising fish, seldom does your leader landing on the water send them scurrying for cover. This tolerant behaviour means you can get away with using the relatively stout leaders needed to control browns in a spring creek’s tight quarters.

You can bet I’ll be on the water chasing brown trout again this year. I’ll float a few days on the big rivers with old friends, looking for a personal-best fish. I’ll also walk-and-wade a couple of my favourite mid-sized freestone streams, including Prairie Creek, as I have since my first days of  fly fishing. And, undoubtedly, I’ll also fish the spring creeks. If you see me, come over and say hello—I’ll be the one practising my favourite curse words as I attempt to extract my fly from an overhanging branch, all the while wondering why the hell I’m not duck hunting.

Hunting editor Ken Bailey enjoys pursuing a variety of fish species on the fly.

BROWN BEGINNINGS

Originally from Europe and Asia, brown trout were first introduced to Newfoundland in 1885, followed by Ontario (1913), New Brunswick (1921) and Nova Scotia (1923). In my home province of Alberta, the first introductions occurred in 1924 in the Raven River and what is now Jasper National Park. Then in 1925, browns were also introduced into the Bow River system. They’ve since been introduced to Manitoba, though I’ve only fished for them in Alberta.

Unlike our native lake, bull and brook trout, which are members of the char family, browns are classified as true trout, and more closely related to Atlantic salmon than to any other trout species in Canada. Interestingly, they are fall spawners, which is more in keeping with the char family; the relative stability of fall water gives them an advantage over rainbow and cutthroat trout, which spawn in the comparative volatility of spring waters.

Browns are highly adaptable and thrive in rivers, streams, lakes, reservoirs and beaver ponds—anywhere there is sufficient food, including insects, other fish and occasional vertebrates such as mice and voles. They flourish in waters of higher temperatures and lower quality than do other trout, giving them another competitive advantage. And having endured nearly 2,000 years of angling pressure in their native lands, they’ve learned a thing or two about survival. This, in large measure, accounts for their reputation as being the most difficult of our trout to catch.