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October 31, 2002
Fall season report from Steelheadheaven
 As
most of you are either packing your rods away for the season
or going Bonefishing in a warm resort, some of us are still
out and am pursuing the seasons run of steelhead. The weather
has been around the freezing mark at nite but very favorable
during the day. The trees have turned and the rivers are dropping.
This will make for some hot fishing action all winter, as
well as some great photo ops.
The Kalum River was our fall favourite for Steelhead. A
full day of steelheading, a nice meal and a warm bed overlooking
a breathless view of the mountain tops. A small walk after
supper and its dark. All you hear is the soft sound of the
canyon below and the howl of wolves in the nearby valleys.
Coho fishing on the Kitimat was again a good season. John
and Randall from Boulder Colorado were here for a mid week
experience, as well as the Griffiths from Johnstown. These
people I have guided from Colorado all season are active fishermen
and women and its sure nice to have them visit our beautiful
rivers and area, see you all next year. Thanx again to the
the fellas from Brooks, Alberta who landed Coho on the Kitimat.
 This
October I guided a pair from Montreal. These fellas were after
there first BC Steelhead on the fly. One a avid spey fisherman
and the other a keen singlehanded rod. We spent our time on
the upper Kalum at the lodge and fished hard. Action came
and went quickly. One day at the end of the drift I was fishing
behind Gheri in a small run. He walked out of the run and
sat down, exhausted. “Go ahead” he said, “I
am not in the right frame of mind”. Those comments stuck
in my head for a reason I cannot explain. I realize now that
flyfishing is a pure sport, unlike any other. Having to make
a fly steelhead will take is a rewarding feeling. Gheri used
a original his buddy dreamed up called the TTT and it was
his best producer. Michael was fortunate enough to land a
Steelhead, Char and a large Coho on the fly. He used our guide
flies for these fish which included the Egg Sucking Leetch,
Popsicle, and Purple Austrian.
Being a guide is a very interesting position to be in. Those
of us around the world must all be nuts to take such a rollercoaster
of emotions day in and day out. Not to mention the behind
the scenes cleanup and preparation for the next day, all with
a happy smile and encouragement the next morning on the day
to come.
 Guided
flyfishermen are a group that have a different perspective
on the river. From reading the water to putting on a fly from
the nites before on the bench, to the relentless casts over
and over again with not a touch. Going out in extreme conditions
even if the river is blown out, just for a possibility of
hooking a Steelhead. This is why I have chosen this position.
The Nass system is currently being fished for Steelhead and
we hope to get a season report out soon from our friends in
Bell 2.
The mainstem Skeena is also being fished by our clients during
this season as the river becomes unclassified. We will be
flyfishing for winter steel until the spring run arrives in
March.
The Kitimat River is a trout fishermans paradise. Archie
has been out wetting the line the last few days and has forwarded
his latest story as well his HOTTEST TROUT FLY.
The Douglas Channel has a variety of bottom fish this time
of the season and anglers do not have to travel far for fresh
Halibut.
We will be guiding 365 days a year in the surrounding area.
So any comments or questions you may have over the winter
do not hesitate to call or write.
Tracey John Hittel
tjhittel@telus.net
250 632-9880 or 250 639-4277
Archie's Report
Rain mists down from a sky of clay colored clouds and shape-shifting
puffs of fog. I can feel a trickle of wet inching down inside
my shirt, along the left side of my neck. I know already that
my shoulders will ache of lumbago tonight…perhaps I
will light a fire and re-live the day with my back turned
toward delicious waves of heat pulsing from flickering alder.
First the day though…
An incessant wind loops my line in an unplanned and unwanted
ellipse of disorder and I wait a millisecond longer for my
rod to load up before starting the forward part of my cast.
The fly rolls over perfectly, landing like just one of a million
other raindrops, across the top of the promising looking riffle
in front of me. Visibility is down to something just under
two feet and the river is still rising…something had
given my fly a sharp tug on my last cast and this toss is
measured to take the line through the same wafting drift.
The exact second the final foot of my upstream mend straightens
at right angles to the river’s flow and my line begins
its’ sweep toward the near shore, my arm is jarred by
the electric shock of a fish hammering my offering! In a heartbeat
- line starts tearing free from my reel.
It is late October, I am fishing the Kitimat River and I
can’t stop myself smiling at the thought of all of you…sitting
in back straining, art-deco chairs in stuffy offices - straining
to stay awake through the monotonous, nasal drone of some
half-wit talking about something so irrelevant it makes every
listener want to cry. A grouse thrums from beneath the trees
and Ebony whines at my side. The rain has stopped now and
magically, a hidden trap door opens in the sky and a shaft
of sunlight stabs down from the heavens at the same heartbeat
the cutthroat leaps free of the current in front of me. The
fish flashes as if electrified…and I am transfixed by
the beauty of the moment. I thank God I never chose to become
a lawyer or accountant.
I am fishing with a three weight T & T and cursing the
wind. The rod casts beautifully when the air is calm, but
I silently curse that I didn’t go with a heavier rod.
The Kitimat is gin clear and full to near overflowing with
Sea Run Cutthroat and Dolly Varden. The Cutthroat run as big
as five pounds and fight as hard as Jack Springs…every
fish fools me into thinking it is much bigger than it really
is and several have already taken me into my backing. The
Dollies fight hard as well and look like small, silver-plated
footballs…each a clone of the other. There must be hundreds
of fish in front of me! I do this every year. I think of it
as my ‘secret season’. Most of the other anglers
have put their rods away. The Coho have finished their run
and now hold, ripening in virtually every deep pool in the
river. The trout now all lurk in the current below their larger
cousins, sometimes poking at the sides of the much larger
salmon with their noses – trying to force the expulsion
of an egg or two. I have watched this behavior many times,
marveling that the trout know somehow, to prod only the females.
I am using a very simple, single egg pattern, tied on a scud
hook. I weight the fly slightly with a couple of turns of
lead, then tie in two or three wraps of orange chenille…just
enough to represent an oversize egg. Then, I finish the fly
with a hackle of white marabou…in the water; it is impossible
to tell it from the real thing. Anything imitating a minnow
works well also, but the hottest pattern this day is by far
this simple pattern. Ebony whimpers at the jumping fish and
steps out into the current, barking her encouragement. The
Cutthroat is easing up on its’ struggles now. I don’t
bother going to shore…barbless hooks make releasing
the fish an easy task. This little glowing package has other
ideas though, and just as I reach for the leader it shoots
away in a twenty foot burst of power and leaps free of the
current below me. I can see the fish flashing like a beacon
in the current, contrasted by the olive tinge of the rocky
bottom. A dark shadow drops out of the sky, falling it seems,
from the sun itself! Startled, I stumble over a hidden boulder,
falling to my knees and water rushes in over the top of my
waders. The eagle hits the water like a sledge hammer! When
the bird takes to the air, my line trails after it –
screaming from the reel in protest. My four pound tippet is
no match for the massive, white crested bird. Instincts honed
over dozens of years caused me to rear back on my rod without
thinking, even as the spectacle of the bird clutching my fish
burst back up into the heavens. The bird twisted slightly
in mid-air at the sudden drag on its’ claws, but the
line parted as if made from spider’s silk, possibly
assisted by the razored edges of the eagle’s talons…and
like a ghost, the bird is gone as quickly as it appeared.
I turned to Ebony and said, “Did you see that?”
I have seen many strange sights over thirty plus years of
avid angling, but this bird making a supper out of my catch
beats it all. I considered tying on another fly and working
over the bottom of the run, but it somehow seemed a bleached
out mockery and insult to what had just transpired to do so.
Instead, I collapsed my rod and headed for my truck, smiling
and shaking my head in wonderment. I will store the memory
with others…of otters playing mid-stream with my dog,
wolves barking for my catch from twenty feet away, a grizzly
bear standing on its’ hind legs and growling from across
a twenty foot stretch of river (I thought we were all dead),
and a friend catching a coho by hooking it through the swivel
of a lure hooked to its’ jaw. Those memories are here
for the taking…a phone call and a plane flight away.
See you on the river…
For those of you who feel like using a fly designed to imitate
salmon roe is akin to cheating, here is another pattern that
works almost as well:
Manny’s Minnow:
This fly is designed to mimic a newly hatched Alevin and
often, it will outfish any other minnow imitation ten to one…I
suspect it is the movement of the marabou. I use a streamer
type hook for this fly, the length matched to whatever mallard
flank I have available (friends who are hunters give me duck
carcasses and as such, I am uncomfortable requesting a specific
feather size.).
No tail.
Body: Silver tinsel (I throw in a silver
rib out of habit, but it is superfluous I think), tied to
the hook bend.
Beard: Red wool (I use steelhead yarn in
several different colors that will never exist in nature)
Underwing: White mallard flank, tied to
extend to the end of the hook bend.
Overwing: Eight or ten strands of olive
marabou, tied to extend to the same length as the mallard.
That’s it! All parts of the fly are listed in order
of when they are tied in. This fly works great all winter
long, but especially in early spring – when all the
fry are hatching en masse and trout are feeding with abandon.
I have fished pools in mid March when it looked like it was
raining from rising fry – all being chased by marauding
cutthroat below.
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