Discovering The Pitt River, British Columbia

It was early June and I was in Victoria, British Columbia on a work trip, when I found myself in a local fishing shop. I had a few days up my sleeve to sneak in some fishing, so before I left the store I asked the person behind the counter if he could recommend anywhere close to Vancouver. His response didn’t fill me with a lot of hope, as rivers were generally high with snowmelt at this time of year. However, as I was about to leave, he told me that I “…could try the Pitt”. Apparently due to being glacier fed, the Pitt River isn’t so heavily effected by snowmelt and furthermore, June marks prime time for Bull Trout.

I returned to my laptop and started Googling. I discovered that the Pitt River is located less than one hour from Vancouver, but is only accessible by boat or helicopter. Unfortunately for me, my budget only allowed me to transit via road or foot. So I kept searching and happened upon the Pitt River Lodge.

I am not really a fishing lodge kinda guy. For a start they are almost always out of my price range, so there is that. But really I just don't need all the bells and whistles. I am usually happy with a hot meal and a shower, and more often than not my fishing trips don't include either. But as a serial fly fishing window-shopper, I decided to take a closer look at what the lodge had to offer. The all-inclusive rates actually seemed quite reasonable and when I started weighing up travelling further afield, it was actually comparable, or potentially even cheaper.

So I emailed them, and several days later I was taking a cab from Vancouver, up a long dirt road, to a remote car park at the side of a lake. Upon arriving at the lake I waited to meet Danny, owner and operator of the Pitt River Lodge, who agreed to pick me up in his boat. Danny has been in the Pitt Valley for over 30 years and along with his partner Lee, they operate the lodge throughout the high season and migrate South to Cuba for the winter. Although as I would later learn, Danny’s elderly Mother stays year-round, cut off completely during the winter months.

We loaded up Danny’s boat with our gear and a substantial amount of fresh food and supplies, then set off to travel the entire length of Pitt Lake, the largest tidal lake in the world.

The journey takes approximate 45 minute and the scenery along the way was nothing short of breathtaking. The combination of the turquoise glacier water in the lake, the native forest surround the water’s edge, and the amazing architecture of the cabins dotted throughout, was postcard-perfect.

The journey to the Pitt River involves a 45 minute cab ride from Downtown Vancouver, then roughly the same time by boat across Pitt Lake.

At the Northern end of the lake we loaded into a pick-up truck and headed up the river to the lodge, arriving somewhere close to happy hour. My first impressions of the lodge exceeded my expectations. Not because of its luxury, but more because of its lack of it. It was devoid of pretentiousness and filled with authenticity, to the point that I instantly felt at home. We were right in the middle of the forest, with bears and deer literally walking through the garden. The raging Pitt River was less than a hundred meters away and you could hear its deep raw echo through the valley. The lodge itself provides everything you need and nothing that you don’t, and its staff are genuine and friendly. But without sounding like a clichéd Trip Advisor review, the Pitt River Lodge is simply warm and welcoming in a way that just made you feel damn good to be there.

Genuine, inviting, and friendly, the Pitt River Lodge is the perfect fishing lodge for people who don't do fishing lodges

After dinner I hung out with my guide for the following three days. His name was Joel Hansen and I soon realised that I would be in good hands for the days ahead. We walked down and took a look at the river, before checking out some flies for the following day.

At the respectable hour of 8:00am we loaded an inflatable raft onto the back of a pick-up truck and Danny shuttled Joel and I about 15kms up the logging road that follows the river, complete with a bear sighting along the way. We literally plummeted the raft down the near vertical bank from the road to the river, before using a rope to lower ourselves and gear down after it. We rigged up, loaded up, then began to drift the Pitt River, making regular stops to get out and fish likely runs.

Dropping in at the start of a new day. Rafts are used to access runs along the river that you stop and fish along the way from the bank.

A few days earlier in Vancouver I had impulse purchased an 8 weight 10 foot set-up, after a little research into Bull Trout. The method was swinging big streamers, using heavy sink tips to get the flies to the bottom. To pair with my single-handed rod, I opted for a line with an interchangeable sink tip, to quickly adjust the sink-rate. From the sink tip it was 15lb tippet straight to the streamer.

Fishing a run involved working from the top down, casting across the flow at 45 degrees, throwing several mends in the line to let the sink tip and streamer get right to the bottom, then stripping at varying speeds, while swinging the fly back across the current. It was hard work with a single-handed rod, but the process was somewhat hypnotic. Plus varying the mends to get the right depth and trying different strips kept it interesting.

An average day involves floating from one magic run to the next

I also knew that I had to quickly ditch the habit of trout-striking. With the large gauge hooks on some of the clousers we were throwing, lifting the rod tip wasn’t going to set the hook properly in the tough mouths of these sea-run Bull Trout. I was going to need to trust the 15lb tippet and if I felt a take, strip-strike as hard as I could. It wasn’t long before this was tested, when the line started to swing across in the current, I felt a positive connection on the other end and I ripped the line back hard and fast with my stripping hand. The fish dug deep in the current, which was apparently typical of the species, and on Joel’s advice I found myself testing the 15lb tippet once again, by reeling down on the fish and winching up.

Bull Trout will chase the streamer out of the deep sections and hit it in the shallows right at the end of the swing, making the chase and the eat visible

Soon we had our first fish in the net, pushing close to 9lbs. It was a great way to start the day and with the pressure somewhat off the guide and the fisherman, we continued on down the river.

This was a new style of fishing for me, but one I quickly became addicted to

Day one concluded back at the lodge with drinks and dinner with Lee, Danny, and other guests. As someone who regularly fishes solo in Australia and New Zealand, I must say I enjoyed the wind down fishing conversations over a few games of pool with the guides and guests. That night we hatched a plan for the following day. After meeting guide John Hanlon and his client Bobby Rowe, we decided to take the rafts high up the river and float together through a sometimes-treacherous canyon pass.

Once again at the start of the day the rafts were loaded up and Danny took the four of us upstream to the put-in point. While the guys were lowering the rafts down the 20-meter vertical bank, I stood on the bridge nearby and took in the surroundings. Above the bridge was another canyon, with steep rock walls either side, covered in moss and rainforest ferns. Just around the bend were several hot springs that entered the freezing cold river. On the rocks below the bridge were several memorial plaques for people who had lost their lives in this part of the river. It was to be the first of several reminders for the day that this was a wild and often unpredictable place.

Memorial plaques on the rocks are a sobering remember of the dangers of this powerful river

As we were about to set off in the rafts, Danny returned in his truck to tell us to only drift the canyon pass together and to not attempt it alone under any circumstances. This was my second reminder of our wild surroundings and of the respect that these guys had for the power of the river.

Guide John Hanlon at the entrance to the canyon

As we drifted through first few whitewater sections, I pondered the idea that when you pay for an experience such as this, it seemed to come with a false sense of security. As in, I’m paying, therefore these people are professionals, therefore I am safe no matter what.

I quizzed Joel on the conditions, suggesting that the rain looked like it might ease and the river should stay at a constant flow for the day. He informed me that actually the opposite was the case. Because of the Pitt River’s glacial source, clearing clouds meant the sun would melt the ice, causing the river to rise further.

As we floated the first few sections, we stopped at several good pools, catching a number of respectable Bull’s along the way.

Around mid-morning we met up with John and Bobby who had pulled up on the bank at the entrance to the canyon. Having the bigger raft, they took the lead and we followed them into the first turn. Ahead of us the full force of the river flowed directly at the canyon wall, folding down on itself and sucking back up in an enormous whirlpool. As the first raft slammed into the wall, John and Bobby were carried backward out of the current, and with a few quick strokes of the oars, John had them safely back on the bank.

As we approached the same scenario, I couldn’t help but feel like our smaller boat was no match for the heavy flow. As we too collided with the canyon wall, Joel gave the paddle stokes of his life to get us out of danger. Several heart-stopping seconds later and we joined the others on the bank, who were waiting with lifelines at the ready. It was a near miss and I couldn't help but noticed how visibly shaken up John and Joel were, both qualified class 4 whitewater rafters.

John and Bobby prepare to take on the canyon, as water levels rise before our eyes

After calming our nerves over lunch, the decision was made to not attempt the canyon any further and instead leave the rafts and hike out. Both Bobby and I as the clients had enormous respect for the decision, as it was a difficult one for the guides to make. As we cut our way through overgrown scrub and up a hill aptly named ‘Cardiac’, we all agreed that despite the gruelling nature of the our exit on foot, this scenario would always take preference over what might have been. At the top of the hill we flagged a logging truck for a ride to the lodge, and were soon glad to find ourselves back in comfortable surroundings.

Making the call to bail on the rafts and head out on foot

After bashing through scrub to the road, we flag a logging truck for a ride back to the Lodge

With no rafts for the final day, the guys cooked up the ultimate plan to pitch to Bobby and me. We would drive right to the end of the 50km road that parallels the river, then hike up for an hour or so to the bottom of the glacier, to the final destination for the mighty Bull Trout on their phenomenal journey from the sea. A place they called ‘The Stadium’. Flanked by two huge mountains, with one long, gliding run in the river flowing between them. Needless to say, there were no objections from us.

The walk into The Stadium was magnificent, with giant waterfalls on either side, falling hundreds of meters down the side of the mountains. With the threat of Grizzly Bears being our only concern, the guys did their best to ward them by letting off fireworks called ‘Bear Bangers’.

Throughout the walk into The Stadium, the clouds gradually lifted to reveal the breathtaking scenery

The scenery surrounding The Stadium lived up to its reputation and the fishing was on fire. Within the first hour or so I had landed four Bull Trout, and before the day was done Bobby had even caught a late season Steelhead.

Hooked up on a big Bull Trout in 'The Stadium'

Swinging a streamer through the highest run on the Pitt River. The glacier that feeds the river is only a few kms upstream from this point. The water was ridiculously cold, but the thought of the incredible journey that these fish had taken to reach this point helped to distract me from my frozen toes!

As we sat around the fire on the final night, I asked around about the guide’s favourite times of year on the Pitt. The Bull Trout in June that we had just experienced was high up there. Though it was a tough call between the Chinook Salmon run in August, the Coho Salmon in October, and the Steelhead in Spring. Each month seems to bring something new and something equally as epic.

My three days on the Pitt River had delivered it all. From leisurely floating between runs on the first day, to the excitement and adventure (albeit a little scary) on the second, to the finale with a phenomenal backcountry expedition. All on the same stretch of river.

I loved my experience at the Pitt River Lodge so much that I returned to Canada two months later to visit there again. In August the Bull Trout had taken on spectacular spawning colours and those that remained in the river were big fish. We floated over enormous schools of Sockeye Salmon in bright red spawning mode. I also hooked and lost two enormous King Salmon that jumped clean out of the water, revealing themselves to be in excess of 1m long.

As well as Bull Trout, the Pitt River can be a spectacular fishery for Sockeye, King, Coho Salmon, Steelhead, and Rainbow Trout

Hard to believe that Vancouver is only around 50km from here, as the crow flies