Memories of Days Gone ByI was in the south end of the city today for a visit to my parent’s house, turkey dinner and all the fixings always entices me. I returned to one of my favourite spots on the Bow River to try my luck and work up an appetite. This particular hole has rewarded me with many monster trout in the past. I remember walking in and tying up a Buzz Bomb or a Panther Martin and hammering trout after trout after trout. It was that good! If the lures were not working I would grab the flies from the tackle box and tie them to a six inch piece of fishing line. I would tie up two flies, usually a bow river bugger and a royal coachman onto my spinning gear. I would use a bell weigh attached to the bottom of the set up and fire that out into the river, bouncing the rig along the bottom and picking it off carefully as to not snag up. That would catch me fish for sure, sometimes very big fish.
I returned today with high hopes and a back pack full of gear. I sat on the bank and watched the water flow by as I tied a hook onto the end of my dull green fishing line. The river had me thinking of all the fish I hooked and landed from that hole. Big browns, fat rainbows, and even some huge rocky mountain whitefish were landed with ease and grace at this location. The area was perfect for trout, a nice gravely bottom with good cover and deep to boot. You knew fish were there and I knew how to catch them. I finally tied up and cast far outwards where the hole began to sink, should be fish in there I thought. Many casts’ later and no fish. Time to switch hooks to spinner bait. The rooster tail went on and outward but still nothing. I sat back and watched the river wondering where the fish were. I never even saw one trout’s snout, or even a dorsal fin for that matter.
I keep it going after the short break and still no luck. I was puzzled and a bit confused at the lack of action. After all this was my hole, I knew it like the back of my hand. After walking up and down the river several times I decided it was time to go get that turkey dinner in me. Back in “the good ol’ days” I would have walked out of my hole with at least four or five fish hooked and landed but not today. The river has changed in this hole, the once prime spawning grounds of the brown trout has vanished into thin air. Actually it was blown out by the nasty flood of 2005. Gone are those days of massive browns from this hole. It’s sad really but that is how nature works. There is little cover left and quite shallow.
The memories will still be with me as long as I live. I will move on and find another fishing hole to call my own. I know other fishermen and women can relate to this article. If you have a favourite fishing hole you would like to share with us than feel free to write a comment and share your story here. I know I would personally like to hear it! Until we meet again on the river, may all your fish be LARGE.