Pic below shows the river where I began to fly fish. Taken with the best technology $800 could buy in the mid 90s a Kodak D50

July 1971 I began work in Vicary underground coal mine just north of the Crowsnest Pass near the headwaters of Vicary Creek. The work was very interesting to say the least but time off left me lost wondering how to occupy my time. Friends had moved on or were working in other places. None of them were hanging around town or playing down at Albert’s pool hall and bowling alley. My first pay day came ($161 for 9 shifts) and with money burning a hole in my pockets I wandered through Montalbetti’s hardware store and found a nice little spin casting rod, reel and a collection of spoons and spinners. This was it, I could fish on my time off.

Saturdays, Sundays, mornings or evenings found me casting my spoons in the Crowsnest River (area shown in the pic). Once in while I even caught a colourful rainbow or two, some of them even big enough to bring home for Mom to fry up. Most days though the rainbows of the upper Crow didn’t take my shiny offerings.

It was when I was on my day shifts and fished in the evening I would see the father of a class mate sharply dressed in khaki slacks, shirt, white straw hat, hip waders, and wicker creel under his arm. He would walk down stream whipping his rod (years later I realized it would have been bamboo) the thick line would then land on the water. A short time later he would lift his rod quickly and an acrobatic rainbow would be landed dispatched and put into the creel. It was as confusing as it was fascinating. Having no idea I had to ask what it was he was doing. He answered simply “fly fishing”.

Back to the hardware store and with the help of the owner I picked out a long, heavy yellow two piece fibreglass fly rod, big Shakespeare reel, fly line, spool of leader, four flys two Montreal wet flies and two muddler minnows. The flys came packaged on individual pieces of card board. At home I quickly put the line on the reel and found it didn’t come close to filling it. Back to the store I went and bought another line to put on the reel. Luckily lines, unlike today were real cheap. Some how I fit everything together and I was set.

With out a clue as to how I headed out fly fishing. Waving the rod and line in the air didn’t get me anywhere. So with some line and leader off the reel and a Montreal fly on I walked along the undercut banks and simply dropped the fly into the water. Like some kind of magic that buggy looking burgundy fly pulled keeper trout up from the bottom and they ate it. Easy. I was hooked better than those trout. My wanderings through the province with a fly rod began.