Rainbow Alley

BY KEVIN ROSSI

“Well, I did hear about this one place, supposed to be real good… It’s called Rainbow Alley.” I overheard the grizzled old-timer say as I picked through flies at the fly shop.

He spoke loudly, as if inviting anyone else in the fly-shop to join in on his conversation. Rainbow Alley… I vaguely recalled a conversation with my dad from before I moved to Prince George. I think he had mentioned a place called Rainbow Alley… Trying not to be too obvious with my eavesdropping, I shuffled a bit closer so I could hear the store employee’s response.

“Ah yes…’ the employee replied, tailing off, as if deep in thought. “A buddy of mine did a trip there not two weeks ago. Said they caught 200 trout in a weekend of fishing, most of them nice size. I reckon it’s as good as they say, if not better. Maybe the best fly-fishing in all of BC. Just a shame it’s so damn far…” Now this caught my attention. The best fly-fishing in all of BC? 200 nice sized rainbows in a weekend? What was this magical destination they called Rainbow Alley? I must have been staring, as when I came back to reality, both gentlemen were looking at me.

“Can I help you find anything son?” the employee asked.

“No thanks. I think I’ve got everything I need.” I replied, with the faintest smile crossing my face. And indeed, I had. Rainbow Alley, I thought. When would I be able to get to this mythical place, they called Rainbow Alley?

Fast forward two weeks, and I had gathered all the information I could on Rainbow Alley. The outlook was grim. Not only was Rainbow Alley nearly 7 hours away from Prince George, two of which were along busy logging roads, but it also required a boat to access- something I did not have. Bushwhacking it seemed like a near impossibility, and with my busy university schedule, making this trek to the legendary spot seemed like a dream, and nothing more. My obsession slowly faded, as I resigned myself to the fact it would probably have to wait…

However, life has a way of working itself out. This fall, I was making a trip to Smithers to enjoy thanksgiving with friends. I was bringing my fishing stuff, hoping to sneak off for a bit to do some fishing with my good friend Morgan, a local Smitherine.

A few days before the trip, I asked him where he had in mind, and he uttered the two words I hadn’t even considered but were exactly what I wanted to hear… Rainbow Alley. It would be a bit of a mission, he admitted, as it was still two hours from Smithers. We would have to neglect our girlfriends for a whole day during thanksgiving weekend; likely landing us in the doghouse. But when would I be back there? When else would I be within striking distance, with a keen companion who conveniently owned a boat? I could not pass up this opportunity. The plan was set.

We were going to the Alley.

Rainbow Alley

The Alley is a 1 kilometer stretch of the Babine River, roughly 2 hours north of Smithers. It flows north from the outflow of Babine Lake (BC’s largest freshwater lake), connecting Babine and Nilkitkwa Lakes. This unique geography is responsible for the amazing rainbow trout fishing here, along with the prolific runs of Pacific salmon. Several anadromous species utilize the Babine River and Babine Lake to spawn, and that means an abundance of salmon fry that must migrate back to the ocean each spring. They are vulnerable as they get corralled in the narrow one kilometer of stream connecting the two large lakes, and the resident rainbow trout congregate in this section for the feast.

TROUT AND MORE TROUT!

There is an abundance of resident trout, and migratory trout from the lakes that move into the stream to feed. In the summer, the feast continues, as a large stonefly hatch is known to occur in the river. To further fatten up these already gluttonous rainbows, the fall brings with it spawning sockeye salmon, and the fish once again have access to an all-you-caneat buffet of salmon eggs. This prolific food availability is why fish gather here basically year-round. It’s also why many of them grow quite large.

Now don’t get me wrong, this place isn’t a secret. It’s well known that there is excellent fishing here, and thus, it can be busy. In the summer, this isn’t the place to go if you want to the river to yourself. The fact of the matter is that it simply doesn’t matter how many others there are; there is so many fish in this stretch of river that you could fish with people all around you and still catch fish. So don’t let crowds deter you.

Luckily for us, it was quiet and peaceful over thanksgiving. We only saw one other group the whole day. We exchanged knowing looks as we passed each other. Then we continued with the excellent fishing.

Radio Recommended

We departed Smithers at 8 am the morning after I arrived in town.

The lake was shrouded in heavy fog as we pulled up to the parking lot. We had no idea where we were or what was around us, yet the map told us we had arrived at our destination. We slowly geared up and prepared the boat, hoping the fog would clear enough to see at least a few feet. It never really did, so we decided to launch the boat and proceed towards the end of the lake very slowly. After a few minutes, we could see the lake was narrowing, and soon we were seeing splashy rises around us. We slowed down, and immediately could tell they were sockeye salmon in their death throes.

The Beginning

We cut the motor and Morgan jumped on the oars, and soon were floating underneath a bridge where the road crosses in the small community of Fort Babine. We knew this marked the beginning of the alley. Looking around, we immediately could see evidence of many rainbow trout fleeing the boat beneath us, along with the occasional rise. It felt fishy. And despite not being able to see more than 10 meters in front of us, we felt confident when we began launching our first casts.

Soon enough, I hooked into a couple trout in the 16” range that put up very good fights. The average size was starting to go up. By lunchtime, we had caught over 15 fish with the average size being around 13”.

As we stopped for lunch the fog had lifted, and we now sat in sunshine. We could see the vibrant colors of the fall trees, the well-fed eagles overhead, and the mountains in the distance. We were in no hurry to get back on the water, knowing there would likely be plenty of fish to go around.

HOT AFTERNOON BITE!

We headed down to the lower part of the alley and anchored-in just upstream of a nice shelf. All of us caught fish in short order. Nathan tried a large streamer and immediately hooked a sizable rainbow. Morgan was having good success with a plain egg pattern. I was catching fish on a stonefly nymph, albeit with far less consistency than the two of them.

That’s when Morgan discovered the ‘money fly’. We decided to move back upstream and anchor-in at a shelf. Morgan had just switched to a new leech pattern.

It was olive and small, no more than 2-3 centimetres in length, compared to the larger leech I was using. Once he started using this fly, he went through a stretch of about an hour where he was catching a fish nearly every cast. He would catch 3-4 fish for each one we caught. He likely hooked over 30 trout in the span of an hour and landed upwards of 20. To his anguish, some of the larger fish got away, but he still managed some excellent trout.

One Last Cast

Pretty soon, it was time to leave. We announced that we would leave once each of us had caught one last fish. Morgan took one cast and immediately hooked into his last trout. Nathan followed up within a minute. Then it was all on me, and I’ll admit it, I felt the pressure. Embarrassingly, It took me upwards of 5 whole minutes before I landed my last trout of the day. I savored every last second of the battle, and took great satisfaction in it’s beautiful colors as it wriggled in the net. I contentedly watched it swim away, then gathered my line; putting a bow on one of the finest days of trout fishing I’ve ever enjoyed.

Fate Supplied This Magical Trip

Ever since the day my father passingly mentioned Rainbow Alley, a place he’d heard of from a friend, it had remained in the back of my mind. I thought back to the fly-shop and made a silent prayer of thanks to the loud talking old-timer who jogged my memory. And thanks to Morgan, for knowing exactly what I needed, even when I had forgotten.

All in all, we caught over 60 fish on this day. Yet even still, we remembered some of the big ones that got away. Some of the bruisers we saw flee our boat as we cruised above them. We thought of the fry migration in the spring, and the stonefly hatch in the summer. We knew there were trophy rainbows to be had. So even though we were 100 % content with our day, we all agreed we would have to return. That’s part of what makes a fishery legendary. There is ALWAYS a reason to return.

When that will be, I don’t know; I’ll let the universe decide. n