Early in May I trekked to one of my favourite rivers for some steelhead fishing. I went midweek to avoid the crowds but apparently many others had the same idea. That’s fishing. I arrived at one of my favourite spots at 0815. To put things in perspective, it’s not exactly an easy spot to find. It’s a 20-minute mud-slinging ride on a good 4x4 quad runner followed by a rather gruelling hike - all the while being a good hour-and-a-half drive from the city. When I arrived at my spot I was surprised to find two others fishing the same stretch of river. Rather than crowd these two anglers, I hiked 30-minutes farther to another spot.
This time I found solitude. Thank God! I climbed down the bank of the canyon wall and waded into ice-cold water. The river jets through a rocky slip here that is bordered on both sides by high banks. The east side is a rocky cliff that keeps the river in the shade until late afternoon. It is not uncommon to find ice shelves on the river here well into May - and today this was the case. I worked the deep dark pool methodically with my fly for about an hour. Then I found the sweet spot. I landed and released three nice steelhead in about 15 minutes. It takes some finesse to land a fish here because the pool spills into a heavy set of rapids making it impossible to follow a running fish. I’ve fished this spot for about 30 years I’d say. And remember one of the first decent steelhead I caught here about that long ago. The memory of that fish, and the seclusion of this special place, is what makes all the effort worthwhile.
After releasing the third beautiful fish I was alerted to the smell of “pot.” I lifted my eyes upstream and sure enough there was a young fellow on the edge of the river looking in my direction. He was sipping on a tall can of beer and evidently smoking a marijuana cigarette. Oh well, I thought. As the saying goes, “It’s 5 O’clock somewhere.” If this wasn’t disappointing enough, he pulled a mobile phone out of his wader pocket and started talking. Although I didn’t catch the entire conversation, I did hear him say, “Hey dude. Come on up here. I just saw a guy land a nice one!”
Minutes later another two young anglers showed up. Both carrying beers and fishing rods.
I fished this stream the following day and did find a cluster of empty beer cans on the stream bank where these folks had congregated. I also encountered another group of five anglers who, while being quite friendly, were noisy and reckless as they walked along the river bank calling to each other incessantly with screams and shrieks that could be heard for hundreds of yards.
I found myself getting quite frustrated and the whole experience diminished my enjoyment of this special place.
While my complaints may sound trite, remember that for most of us solitude in the outdoors is a respite from the stress of daily life. It is a time for quiet reflection and connection with our creator. In fact many equate time in the outdoors as “church.”
My hope is that one day my grandchildren will be able to hike into places like this and find solitude. I believe that is a reasonable request. In the mean time, let’s do our best to respect the privacy of others by preserving sacred places.
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