FLY-FISHING THE STELLAKO RIVER
There aren’t many rivers in Western Canada that come with a resume as impressive as the fabled Stellako River, situated smack dab in the middle of BC, 2 hours west of Prince George.
Sure, the Skeena River, two hours further to the west, may be the creme-de-la-creme when it comes to steelhead fishing, but that is a different game altogether. When it comes to the purists dream- that is, small stream fishing for large trout using just a few simple dry flies- the Stellako is often mentioned on the list with the best of the best. Naturally, as soon as I discovered I was living less than two hours away from this paradise, I obsessed over the place for weeks, researching it extensively, learning the names of it’s notorious pools and runs, all while neglecting house chores, schoolwork, and basic self-care until I could finally escape to the promised land I had been reading about.
A DREAM COME TRUE
The research had left me with very high expectations for this 11 kilometer river that connects Francois and Fraser Lakes. Indeed, I had stumbled across a claim that the grandfather of BC fly-fishing himself- Roderick Haig-Brown- had once listed the Stellako as one of his top 3 dry-fly rivers he’d ever fished. Now, I’ve read enough RHB books to know that this dude caught hogs. And lots of them. And living in the time he did, there was lots of excellent dry fly rivers with abundant trout. If the Stellako was in his top 3, there must have been something extra special about this stretch of water. Something I vowed to find out for myself.
A LATE FALL ADVENTURE
I was therefore brimming with excitement on the drive out as we departed Prince George on a late-September morning, and that excitement only grew until we reached our destination. We followed a pretty decent trail through the wet forest, shrouded in fog, with the sound of rapids beckoning us forwards, ever closer to the fabled Stellako.
We emerged from the fog to see a large, gorgeous pool reveal itself to us. It was some of the fishiest water I had laid eyes upon. Soft, deep water lay between the sandy shore and a fast flowing seam on the far bank. Immediately, we saw the red flanks of a sockeye salmon breach the surface and splash down unceremoniously.
We quickly divided, my friend Matt taking the front end of the pool while I took the tail out. I started with a weighted eggy-leechy-thing (techincal term), and casting to the far back, I let it swing through the tail out, moving downstream slightly every few casts. It took a few minutes, but soon enough the line went taut, and I felt a rainbow pull hard on the line before exploding to the surface and going airborne in an aerial, hook spitting maneuver executed to perfection. I retrieved my now slack line and looked upstream towards Matt; he was staring back at me with a wide grin. We knew we were in for a special day.
FINE TUNING OUR PRESENTATION
We worked our way upstream and soon enough we had both caught several trout, all around 11-14″. Swinging the egg-sucking-leech through the tailouts seemed to be working good, but as the day started to warm, more and more rainbows began to rise for hatching bugs. Taking the que, I ditched the leech and switched over to a large orange stimulator. I caught two small fish in short order, both attacking the fly immediately after it hit the water.
Wanting a more sizable trout, I set my sights on the converging seams that pressed against an overhanging tree on the far bank. It would require some deep wading and a low-probability cast, but I figured it was doable. I had recently discovered that the rocks here were incredibly slippery, so very carefully, I waded out into the waist deep water. Utilizing a tiny gap in the trees to cast, I unfurled as much line as I could before I reached back for everything on my final cast towards the seams. The line carried the slack from my hand and landed perfectly on the far side; I threw in one heavy upstream mend, then there was a few brief moments when my fly sat perfectly between the two seams, begging to be eaten.
That’s when a snout broke the surface and smashed the fly, and immediately I knew this was a large fish, as the reel sang out with every anglers favorite sound. With a great degree of luck and a bit of skill, I managed to get the fish to shore. It was my first nice sized fish out of the Stellako, and a moment I won’t soon forget.
The fish that rewarded me for the perfect cast. A moment I won’t soon forget.
We continued to catch fish for the remainder of the day. Most were small, but every three or four fish a bigger one would come to the net. There was constant action, and for each fish we landed in the net there was another that managed to get away. We bushwhacked our way through the brush, and once we were too exhausted to go on, we scrambled out of the canyon, and returned to the car. That was my first day on the Stellako. As I contentedly drove home that evening, I was already planning my return.
THE RETURN
Turns out, things worked out perfectly to return just a few short weeks later. My father was coming to town for a visit and wanted me to take him fishing. I could think of no better spot than to return to the river that was now never far from my mind.
This excited me for two reasons. First, me and my dad don’t get the chance to fish together much anymore, so I relished these opportunities. Secondly, I would get to return to a river that was quickly becoming one of my favorites, and this time it would be during the peak sockeye spawn, in the middle of the infamous “egg hatch.”
A DAY ON THE WATER WITH MY FATHER
We arrived this time to see the river full of sockeye. They were everywhere, darting amongst each other, fighting for real estate and pairing up to spawn. The odd dead one would float by, an easy meal for an eagle or a grizzly. I told my dad to go work the very same tail out I myself had fished a few weeks earlier. I took to tying on an egg pattern, and to my great pleasure, within moments I looked up to see my dad hooked into a nice rainbow. Our day went much like the last, and there was never much time between hook-ups.
Just before we took a lunch break, a thick-shouldered trout slurped up my egg in some shallow, unassuming water and went ripping downstream. It then reversed and charged me. I got a handle of the slack just before the fish torpedoed into the air, spitting my hook in the process, leaving me stunned, exhilarated, and disappointed. The ‘big one’ had escaped. Without a doubt, this would have been my largest Stellako Trout. But alas, I’ll never know how big it truly was. That memory, though, will be enough to bring me back, and likely quite soon. Hard to beat a day full of rainbows like this one.
THE FLATS!
After lunch, we headed to the stretch of river known as ‘The Flats,’ a more placid piece of pocket water that is the outflow of Francois Lake. There is a parking lot at the bridge here, along with an informative sign with a map of the river and its many pools. I thoroughly enjoyed this piece of water. Though unassuming at first glance, there is a ridiculous number of trout hidden amongst the boulders and in the deeper troughs.
There were many sockeye salmon; like clockwork, I could chuck my fly into the tailouts behind the spawning salmon and very predictably hook into trout. Some of the fish I caught here were quite nice. Many got away before I could land them. The rocks were incredibly slippery, and twice I slipped and fell into the water, bashing my kneecaps and flooding my waders. It mattered not; I was in paradise, and I couldn’t imagine a more perfect river. I understood why Roderick Haig-Brown revered this river. Sometimes, it’s not just about what you catch, or how big. Its about where you catch them, and how. It’s about novelty; and the wisdom that comes from such experiences. The Stellako provides all of that, and then some.
At the end of the day, my dad told me it was one of the finest days of trout fishing he’d had in quite some time. And I agreed with him. We didn’t catch anything huge, but we caught lots of nice fish. We got to enjoy a memorable day of father-son fishing in a place where people have been fly-fishing for over a century. We traced the footsteps of the legends, and enjoyed catching trout in a place that has that special something that just can’t quite be described.
We experienced the Stellako, one of the greatest trout rivers there ever was.