The Westslope cutthroat trout isn't the only fish in Alberta's Oldman River. But its big appetite for dry flies make it especially appealing to fishers who only occasionally get a weekend beside a mountain stream.
The upper reaches of the Oldman are among the best places to hook up with wild and undiluted cutthroats. The river rises in the first serration of the Rockies, gathering water from the Livingstone, Crowsnest and Castle Rivers on its sinuous journey toward the South Saskatchewan far out on the plains.
Taken together, the rivers of Alberta's southwest corner offer more than 500 kilometres of pristine water with enough brook, brown, rainbow, cutthroat and bull trout to draw anglers from across the West, some from Europe and a few from Japan. Visiting fishers pay up to $300 a day to explore the water between Chief Mountain and the Highwood River. Their spending sustains a small, vigorous cottage industry of fly makers, rod builders, outfitters and guides.
"Fishing here is what it was in Montana 50 years ago," says Bernard Ramanauskas, who left guiding this year to focus on building split-cane rods for discerning fishers with deep pockets.
"There is so much good water in Alberta and British Columbia that no one needs to go anywhere else."
Ramanauskas polished his casting skills on the Oldman, and the river remains a favourite for its variety of water, dramatic scenery and relative isolation.
The Oldman's upper tributaries have escaped the attention of resort developers. It's better known to loggers, ranchers and miners who return year after year to favourite spots.
Camps spring up soon after the mountain roads open in May. Trailers are parked among the pine groves along the river, for weekend outings, family vacations, trail riding and the fall hunt.
Late last summer, we angled west from High River and up through the foothills.
At a checkpoint on Indian Graves Road, a forestry officer warned that crews were fighting a new wildfire above Racehorse Creek. The main forestry trunk road was open, he said, but only to the Oldman.
All of the forest south of the river was off-limits, as it had been for much of the summer while fires burned out of control and filled Crowsnest Pass with smoke.
Indian Graves Road follows a small creek down to Highway 940, the southern branch in a network that services coal mines, gas wells and logging camps for 1,000 kilometres up and down the east slope of the Rockies.
A logging road parallels the Oldman for 20 kilometres into the Beehive Mountain wilderness area. We pulled off where Hidden Creek enters the river, cool and bottle green beneath arching aspen and pine. Three trucks pulling big mobile homes idled a kilometre downstream, the drivers debating whether to wait out the fire. Farther upstream, neighbouring campsites flew Canadian and British flags. Otherwise, we had the place to ourselves. The Racehorse Creek fire added a smoky note to air resinous with pine sap.
We left rounds of wood stacked neatly beside our fire ring and set up a propane grill. A gas lamp hissing behind a log cast the glow of a roaring blaze, if not the heat.
After a summer without rain, the river was well below the high water mark.
The rocky bones of the spring rapids lay bleached and exposed to the morning sun.
The first cast drew a flash of olive gold from a shadowed fault line that cut through a long pool below our camp. The trout was almost back in the shadows before it rid itself of the barbless hook.
The day turned hot. We left our waders and stalked the trout in sandals and deck shoes, seldom getting our knees wet as we worked up river. Each pool gave up a fish, but none had a vivid red slash at its throat.
We were catching brook trout. The cutthroat held the bottom of the deepest pools; our dry flies and spinners were of no to interest them. The brookies were a pound and less. We wanted bigger fish, and decided to try the deeper, faster water of the Gap where the Oldman surges through a canyon of grey leaning rock.
While we slept that night, the forest fire moved closer, creeping over a ridge into the Dutch Creek watershed, just a few kilometres from our camp. Forestry officers blocked the road south, so we crossed over to the Livingstone, looking for deeper pools.
A decade ago, there were dire predictions for the Oldman and its tributaries. The Alberta government dammed the entire watershed and it was feared that would devastate the fishery.
The dam flooded about 30 kilometres of stream bank, but stocks are strong, says Gary Bergman, a Crowsnest Pass outfitter. The Oldman drainage abounds with 16- and 18-inch trout, and 20-inch-plus fish are out there.
Fishing starts in late June and continues strong through September.
Apparently not inspired by books and TV fishing shows, the public has not thronged to trout streams. Bergman says fewer people fish in Alberta than 15 years ago, and cites government data.
Overnight, the season changed. There was more gold than green among the aspen. Summer was gone, replaced by rain that fell as the camp collapsed into stuff sacks, boxes and coolers.
We stopped at the crest of Indian Graves Road and looked southeast along the spine of the Whaleback to the blue profile of the Porcupine Hills. A horseman pushed cattle fattened on summer grass down to the road. Two hours later, we skirted the edge of Calgary, and drove north into gust-driven rain.
Pack your bags
OUTFITTERS
Guided fly fishing trips on the Oldman River are offered by:
Canadian Fly Fishing Services: (250) 423-3783; http://www.flyfish-canada.com.
Bow River Hookers: (403) 248-5167; http://www.bowriverhookers.com.
INFORMATION
For general information on fishing in Alberta, visit http://www.travelalberta.com.
For more information on fly fishing on the Oldman River, visit the website at http://www.flyfishalberta.com.
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