Jul. 07, 2010 - Issue #768: Crumbling Away

Oh so fly

Cast a line at Fortress and you'll end up hooked

We'd come to a clearing along the banks of the Athabasca River close to its natural headwaters high up in Jasper National Park when we heard it—the alternative. It was the float plane buzzing overhead with its gleaming pontoons and promise of a smoother ride. It was tracking northeast, towards its home at Hinton having just disembarked supplies and passengers at our eventual destination in the distance—Fortress Lake. We, however, were taking the longer, harder way in.

We were on our bikes, halfway through a 27-kilometre trek from Sunwapta Falls on the Icefields Parkway across the Continental Divide and into British Columbia's Hamber Provincial Park.

Surrounded by UNESCO World Heritage beauty, we were losing elevation and loving it; we couldn't quite grasp the appeal of the float plane yet.

We crossed the Athabasca on a suspension bridge and looked to be making great time. An hour later, we were mired in endless rock gardens, cursing every gram in our packs and buying super-light cross-country bikes in our minds. That and the coming fording of the sometimes-treacherous Chaba River crystallized the allure of an aerial ride in.

One thing is certain, however. No matter which of the two (and only two) routes taken in, the journey plays distinct second fiddle to the destination. I'm not normally prone to boyish gushing, but Fortress Lake is simply gorgeous. Towering peaks dropping avalanches towards a gin-clear mountain lake ringed by a healthy conifer crown will do that to a man.

We came, ostensibly, to try our hand at some fly fishing, but with such landscapes to ogle it was enough just to sit back and take it all in as we were picked up at lake's edge and ferried into camp by the Fortress Lake Retreat boat.

I'm sure operators Dave and Amelia Jensen see the same dumb grin on everybody who crosses their beach. If they do, they gave no sign of it and thankfully allowed us to prattle away without dampening our enthusiasm. Instead, they supplied gracious hospitality and enthusiasm of their own for the next day's introduction to the fly fishing world.

We'd need that extra boost because, with the exception of one, we were complete rookies. To say we were like fish out of water would be just a terrible, terrible joke—but apt nonetheless. A quick primer from guide Nick Sliwkanich: "Unlike in spin fishing, the hook is light and it's actually the weight of the line that allows you to cast."

Hence, the wide sweeping back and forth motion of a fly fisherman's rod as they feed more line off their reel into the arcing collection in the air, until they have enough for the length of cast they desire. Watching our resident veteran demonstrate, I got that old gut feeling: "This isn't going to be as easy as it looks."

Perception, focus, balance, repetition: all that jazz is involved in a good cast. And it's like any other esoteric skill, to really progress you have to take great pleasure in your wins, no matter how minor. If you can hold onto the good feelings from a good cast, you can sustain your motivation through a dozen poor ones. Fortunately, the feedback from your rod and line is fairly immediate. You know right away what you did wrong and can (try to) correct accordingly.

Once we got a handle on how not to cast, we could concentrate on, well, fishing. Fortress is famous for its brook trout. Seeing as how they are native to the lakes of Eastern Canada and a rarity in these parts, it makes sense.

Turns out Fortress Lake was stocked in the 1940s and the population has flourished in absence of any competition. As well, the strict catch and release policy means that there are literally plenty of fish in the sea. In some of the shallower waters you can see teeming schools of them just waiting for the hook. Good news too, because I happen to be a terrible fisherman.

I am reasonably certain that I now hold the Fortress Lake camp record for fewest fish caught at a meagre one. I'm sure the veteran fisherman at camp would blame it on my technique or choice of lure, but I personally choose to believe that I burn through my luck in other venues and it comes full circle whenever I've got a fishing rod in my hand.

And that is perfectly fine by me. I'll just sit in the boat enjoying the view and the welcome ache in my bicycling muscles and watch the world go by. V

At The Oasis

Off the grid and out in the bush, Fortress Lake Retreat offers what they call "rustic luxury" amid the foreboding wilderness. Accommodations are in canvas roofed cabins with solar LED lights and a little wood stove to take the chill off at night. Delicious meals are cooked and served in my favourite Central Asian form of shelter—yurts. Throw in a few out buildings including a guide (read: bullshitting) shack, equipment and utility sheds and you have a nice little comfortable operation in the middle of nowhere. Oh, and flush toilets and a hot shower facility. Ah, the wonders of sun-tracking solar power systems and flow-through water heaters.

On The Web

flyfishalberta.com/fortresslake/
  vueweekly.com comments: powered by Disqus