Too Many Fish, Not Enough Words: A Week With Tim Flagler and Phil Rowley at Northern Rockies Adventures
I've spent the past month trying to figure out how to write this post, and the truth is that while I love taking photos, I hate writing about my experiences. I don't think I'm even capable of writing in a way that conveys how incredible this trip was, and honestly, I don't think the photos do it justice either. So instead of some long, drawn-out blog, this is going to be mostly photos.
This trip gave me the chance to take the kind of photos I've always dreamt of taking. I've spent the last few weeks meticulously combing through them, trying to drill down to only the best, but unfortunately… they're all the best. (Sorry, it's true.) I took 1,600 photos, cut it down to 300 final ones, and this post probably contains less than a third of them. Maybe I’ll do something with the rest some day, but for now, this is it because maybe 10 people will look at this anyways.
Before You Scroll (The Nitty Gritty)
No roads. Everywhere we fished on days 3-6 was only accessible by float plane. There are no roads to these places, and they're fished only a handful of times a year. Northern Rockies Lodge is one of the few outfits allowed to guide here.
Yes, I'm gatekeeping. I'm not listing names or locations of the waters we fished. Getting up there takes some significant effort, so if you want to go, reach out and I'd be happy to point you in the right direction.
The land. The Muskwa-Kechika is Native land tied to First Nations including the Kaska Dena, Treaty 8, and Carrier-Sekani peoples.
How We Ended Up Here
my in-laws have been friends with Tim and Joan Flagler for a few years now. They've gone on a few fishing trips together, Tim has taught a fly tying class for our nonprofit, and his son Drew has done some graphic design work for us as well. So it only made sense that this year's family vacation would be a trip to fish alongside Tim and Phil Rowley on a joint-hosted trip to the Muskwa-Kechika, a 15-million-acre wilderness area in northern British Columbia, near the Yukon border.
Getting to spend the week with two fly-fishing industry greats was an experience you couldn't possibly replicate. The knowledge they shared was incredibly valuable on its own, and we had a fantastic time hanging out with them.
The Food, the Lodge, and Our Hosts
The hosts. Northern Rockies Adventures & Lodge is owned by the most absolutely incredible family. Urs, Marianne, Daniel, and Michael are some of the coolest people I've ever met, and they're filled with enthusiasm for people, hospitality, aviation, and protecting the land and animals that make this place so great. I could have spent hours writing about what interesting people and hosts they are.
The food. By the end of every day I was so beat and my brain was so fried that I never once took my camera to dinner. Just know that every single meal was something you'd pay a decent chunk of money for at an upscale restaurant.
The lodging. We all had individual cabins, but Northern Rockies Lodge also has lodge rooms you can just go and stay in. Even if you never do any fly-out fishing, Muncho Lake is beautiful and has tons to do on its own. It's very much worth a stop on your drive down the Alaska Highway.
Day 0-1: Plane, Van, and Then Another Plane, Then Another Van
Travel wasn't easy. Getting there took a flight from Boise to Vancouver (via Seattle), a night in Vancouver, a ~1.5-hour van ride to the Pitt Meadows airstrip, and a two-hour flight north on a hot-rodded King Air 300 to the Fort Nelson airstrip. From there we drove the Alaska Highway for another ~3 hours to reach our basecamp for the week. (Flip it and reverse it for the adventure home…)
Every bit of the journey was spectacular, though. The drive from Fort Nelson to Muncho Lake delivered wildlife encounters straight out of the gate: Moose, black bears, stone sheep, and that’s only what I remember between naps.
Day 2: Weather Day (Not That We're Complaining)
When we rolled in, a weather system was rolling through, and it wasn't cooperating enough for a fly-out day. So we bopped down the Alaska Highway and fished the Liard River instead. Then, when we got sick of catching beautiful fish (rough life), we went for a dip at Liard Hot Springs.
At the end of the day, we made it back to the lodge, cracked open a few beers, and got some spey casting practice and instruction in with Tim.
Species: Arctic Grayling, Bull Trout
Day 3: Pike Day, Round One
Day 3 brought our first fly-out. It was still overcast, drizzly, and a bit chilly, but Tim decided it was a good day to target northern pike. None of the Clark Fam had ever sight-fished for pike, so we were all pretty pumped. We loaded up the Cessna 208 Caravan with all our gear, tossed in a few boat motors, and took off on an hour-long flight to the most beautiful lake I'd ever seen. (Up until that point, but every day here beat the one before.)
Once there, we pulled boats out of the trees, hauled motors out of the plane, tied on the biggest flies we owned, and set off. Chris and I spent the day with Tim, Jill and Greg were with Urs, and Kyle and Payton had a boat to themselves, which worked out well since Kyle can catch anything, anywhere, with little to no help. We all had our first fish within 100 feet of the beach we launched from, and we kept catching fish all goddamn day.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, it really hit me how quiet it was. We were on a lake so far out of the realm of running into anybody else that the only soundtrack was loons calling back and forth across the water, all day, while it drizzled. At one point I was just sitting in the boat, weepy-eyed, completely overwhelmed by how lucky I was to be there.
I never thought I was a stillwater angler, but there is literally nothing like sight fishing for pike.
Species: Northern Pike
My first pike, graciously shown off by Tim since I was not about to risk having my fingers pike-chomped on day 1.
Day 4: Fog, A Big Ole Bull Trout, Fat Rainbows, and a Lake Nobody Had Landed On in 15 Years
The weather finally started cooperating, and everything looked great when we piled into the de Havilland Otter that morning. (The plane I was most excited to fly on.) But by the time we got to our planned destination, the fog still hadn't burned off, so we had to make some spur-of-the-moment decisions and pick another body of water. The backup plan was also socked in, so we diverted to a lake to give the fog some time to lift. According to Urs, they hadn't landed on this lake in about 15 years, and we said "fuck it, let's fish," rigged up, and all had fish on within minutes. Kyle landed the most beautiful bull trout of the trip (unsurprisingly), and the rest of us caught some gorgeous rainbows.
The fishing turned off pretty quick, so we had a shore lunch, loaded back up, and flew 15 minutes to the backup river we'd originally planned to fish after we abandoned the first. This day was full of the biggest, fattest, hardest-fighting rainbows I've ever seen in my life. The walk felt a lot like Silver Creek, complete with surprise beaver holes, and at one point we all ended up accidentally waist-deep in muck.
There are limited photos from this day, mostly because it was my first day fishing the Pizza Fly (thanks, Umpqua), and it was an absolute ripper. I landed a few nice rainbows and lost one big bull trout at the net, but this was not a day for taking photos.
Species: Rainbow Trout, Bull Trout
Kyle & Chris with the most beautiful Bull Trout of the trip
Day 5: Grayling and the Great Grizzly Eviction
Day 5 was for Arctic Grayling and lake trout if you were lucky. We flew out to one of the lakes where Northern Rockies Lodge has outpost cabins, hopped in boats, and split up between the inlet and the outlet. Jill, Chris, and I went with Michael to the inlet, where we caught so many grayling I thought I was dreaming. Every single time our flies landed on the surface, a fish hit almost immediately. It was another prolific day for the Pizza Fly. We lost count of how many fish we caught, and every one we brought to the net earned a good look at that big, beautiful dorsal fin grayling are known for.
This became my new favorite day, right up until we got back to the boat for shore lunch and Chris noticed a grizz across the lake, downwind, standing on its hind legs and getting a big whiff of us. About 30 seconds later it dropped back down and started swimming straight for us, and there's a specific kind of silence that happens on a beach when four people register the same thing in the same half-second. Michael made a very quick call: "get everything in the boat right now." We frantically tossed shit in, jumped in ourselves, and launched just as the bear reached the beach we'd just abandoned. Getting evicted from our fishing hole by a grizzly was not on my to-do list, but it's pretty cool to say it happened.
Meanwhile, Kyle, Payton, Greg, and Tim went to the outlet and caught grayling and lake trout all day, with significantly less bear drama.
When we made it back to the lodge at the end of the day, we were informed that we’d be having shore dinner as a group. While our fishing days mostly consisted of the Clark fam, there were actually 12 (I think?) people on this trip, including us, plus Tim and Phil. So dinners were really our only chance to spend time together as a group. Shore dinner was the perfect opportunity to eat our grayling, have some steak by the lake, and end the evening with a sunset Crème brûlée.
Species: Arctic Grayling, Lake Trout
Bonus: Shitty bear video
Double bonus: We also got an 11:00 PM knock on our door to let us know that the Northern Lights were out. Unfortunately, I did not bring a tripod on this trip, so the ole iPhone just had to suffice.
Day 6: Pike Day, Round Two
Our trip included four fly-out days, so on the last one, after we'd targeted every species we wanted, we got to pick one to repeat. Naturally, it was northern pike. Tim made the call to take us to a less-visited lake, known for much bigger fish but far fewer of them than the first day.
Every day had been more beautiful than the last, but the lake we dropped out of the sky onto was the clearest, brightest blue water I've ever seen. Something I'd never expect to find anywhere outside the Caribbean. Three days earlier we'd been thrilled just to see a pike, now Chris and I took our own boat and fished it like we actually knew what we were doing, sight-casting and catching one after another. The highlight was when Chris brought one up from what had to be ~15 feet of water to eat a mouse fly off the surface. THAT was the coolest shit I've ever seen. Greg ended the day with a 44-inch beauty that took multi-boat support to land.
But the real highlight of the day (er… honestly of the whole trip) was the flight home. Urs let me fly the plane home for a bit, and for someone who's been a little obsessed with airplanes her whole adult life, that was worth more than any fish we caught all week.
Species: Northern Pike
A multi-boat effort to bring Greg’s big pike to the net
Day 7: Slow Morning, Big Goodbyes
On our final day, we all needed a little rest and the morning wrapped up in the best way. too much French toast, the last of the Baileys disappearing into coffee mugs while we lost at cribbage for the third day running. Nobody was in a hurry to pack. We woke up late, sat in the sun, and noodled on what to do. We tied flies with Tim, some of us went on a hike with Marianne, and some stayed back for a quiet day. It was a great way to say goodbye to the lake that had been home for the week and get ready to do the whole travel day in reverse.
Somewhere over the Muskwa-Kechika, hands on a yoke I had no business touching, I stopped thinking about how to write any of this down. That's probably the most honest ending I've got — the week that was too much to put into words ended with me not even trying.
