North 40 Fly Shop eMagazine March 2018 | Page 20

Canyon Reservoir and Duck Lake. But I’d done that while fishing from shore, or in a boat, in shallow water, just 10 yards or so from the bank. When I met up with Chan he motored us to a shoal on a 50-acre lake he likes and told me to tie 20 feet of tippet to my existing leader. He added, “put a lead weight on your fly and drop it to the bottom.” I didn’t know what to say in response, let alone how I might cast the entire contraption. Chan, sensing my hesitation said, “It’s not pretty.” The weight, of course, was not to be cast. Instead, I clipped the lead weight to my fly and dropped it over-board. When it hit bottom and my leader went slack, I raised the weight six inches off bottom, pegged a cork to the leader at the water line, and then hand-lined the fly in and removed the lead. This way, Chan explained, I could cast (huck, chuck, whip and duck might be a more accurate description) the fly to a likely spot and let it sit, know-ing it would be about six inches off bottom, right where he marked fish on the sonar. A bead head on the chirono-mid, plus a barrel swivel placed eight inches above the fly, was all the weight needed to reach that depth. Once I’d cast the fly out 10 feet it became a waiting game. Two nights prior, while fishing out of Corbett Lake Lodge southeast of Merritt, I was overheard telling a couple anglers that I wouldn’t participate in the deep water chironomid game. “Too slow,” I’d said adding, “I’d probably fall asleep in my pram.” A guy who said he’d fished the lake for something like 46 straight years pulled me aside and said, with authority, “Don’t overlook it. Fishing chironomids is not boring.” Fair enough. But I didn’t fish chironomids the following day at Corbett. Why would I? There was an excel-lent late morning Callibaetis mayfly emergence that had the fish slurping below the surface and on top, and with calm conditions I could sight fish for ‘bows that ranged between 17 and 21 inches. For a while the fishing was hit and miss, but around noon the number of rises seemed to quadruple within five minutes. I moved the pram to where I’d just seen five rises and dropped an anchor in six feet of water. Then I tied on a Callibaetis emerger and threw at the first fish passing by. He ate without hesitation. Two hours later I’d landed, perhaps, 20 trout, nothing greater than three pounds, nothing smaller than 16 inches. Those are typical fish at Corbett, although bigger trout do swim here. These are also standard sizes (alt-hough fish to 10 pounds are possible) for the adjacent Douglas Lake Ranch, which offers 12 private lakes ranging between 10 and 65 acres, including the legendary Stoney and Minnie lakes. Corbett and all of the lakes on Douglas are managed as fly-fishing only and offer enough hatches to keep anglers busy for a full week through the entire season, the season basically running from ice-out in March to ice-on sometime in November. You can find these types of lodge offerings throughout south-central British Columbia, making it a dream landscape for DIY and lodge-based anglers alike. BRIAN CHAN IS . . . THE CHIRONOMID KING When fishing with Brian Chan you really don’t have an option not to fish chironomids. He is the chirono-mid king and when I asked him which is his favorite way to fish he answered with this: “Chironomids, underneath, especially later in the season when the ‘bombers’ come off.” Bombers are inch-long or longer chironomids that emerge later in summer, often in August, that trout really seem to key in on. Not that these fish shied away from our size 14 and 16 imitations. In fact it didn’t take long for Chan to reel in a nice fish, about 17 inches long, very well fed, and looking as if its belly were about to explode. But he’d expected better. More action. Back-to-back hookups. Multiple doubles. High- fives all around. And that wasn’t happening. So, before releasing this fish Chan stuck a tube in its throat and withdrew the contents of its stomach. Chan pumped the contents into a small, clear vial, raised it to the sun and said, “That’s not good.” Inside the vial were tiny creatures called daphnia, a.k.a. water flas. They were way too small to match with our flies and if all the trout were keyed