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Tag: Alberta Spring Creeks

5 Tips for Alberta’s Spring Creeks

5 Tips for Alberta’s Spring Creeks

It is spring time in Alberta! And ever since I first fished in south Central Alberta, that has meant one thing to me; Spring Creek Browns. And while this season, we had to wait, ever so impatiently, the ice is finally off all moving water and our spring creeks are good to go! I was lucky enough to be able to get out to one of my favorite of these spring creeks a few days ago, and was greeted with…

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When Self-Sabotage becomes a lesson in humility (and good trout etiquette)

When Self-Sabotage becomes a lesson in humility (and good trout etiquette)

I looked into my fly-bag and shook my head in dismay. I could’ve sworn I had one more 3X leader. But as I dug through my unorganized bag of goodies, all that I could round up was some 5x… I looked at my mangled, bent, 4 feet of leader I had left. A sorry mess that surely would spook any brown. Then I though about the big browns in this stream, no more than 10 feet across in most spots,…

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Bushwhackers Society Spring Preview

Bushwhackers Society Spring Preview

Hello everyone and Welcome back to the Bushwhackers Society Blog for the 2017 Fly-Fishing season. Open water has arrived in Alberta; a good chunk of fine trout water is now open for the season, and the ice is coming off in time for anglers to enjoy some great fishing! Spring time for me usually means a couple of things. Trying to figure out life and upcoming work being the first and foremost priority. But also trying to enjoy every last…

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Late Season Physcosis

Late Season Physcosis

The day is Halloween. Also today. is the final day for fishing in the high country streams of Alberta. It is a monday, and I should be at work. But I am not. I am at home, bored out of my mind, hooked up to an IV unit and wondering why I am struck by poor luck when it comes to getting these obscure and random injuries. I sit in my living room and bend my sore and infected elbow…

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Short Story: Shit out of Luck

Short Story: Shit out of Luck

The small spring creek burbled gently, with big foamy white bubbles pressing against the undercut brush of the outside bank before rushing over a log and into a wide, deep pool. That log had claimed 3 of my flies in the past hour; the big brown who relied on it for refuge seemed to have gone incognito. So there I was, alone with the burble of the creek and the sounds of birds and wind, and my cigar that lit…

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