Winter Walk on the Bow River Author: Kurt Chenuz      Walking a game trail to a favourite fishing hole in the middle of winter brings about a unique set of observations. During long cold spells the river belongs to the local wildlife; however, when a Chinook arrives, people migrate toward the river. If you happen to be the first to get to the river, you cannot help feeling that you are being watched...you are intruding and upsetting a natural balance. Goldeneye Ducks on the Bow River As you shuffle your clothing-ladened body down the trail, the crunch from your boots in the snow alerts the local inhabitants. Waiting until the last possible second, your presence causes a family of Goldeneye ducks to launch themselves into the air. The squeaky noise that they make as they fly up the river warns others of your arrival. They keep their distance and remain ever vigilant...nonchalantly drifting by, taking flight, landing upstream, and drifting by once again. A Favourite Bow River Winter Fly Fishing Hole The dampening effect that the snow has on background noises intensifies the sound of your breathing. The frozen moisture flowing back over your face causes your cheeks to tighten. The coldness that you initially felt has dissipated now that you have arrived at your destination. It has been replaced by anticipation and an overwhelming alertness. The fly pattern selection is brief...it had been thoroughly deliberated during the night as you slept. Finally, you take position placing a perfect cast into the slow moving current. You "clear the mechanism" and all concentration is directly on the strike indicator drifting through the hole. The soft shattering sound made by the lumps of drifting ice crystals, rolling in the current and rubbing against the shore, fills in the gaps between heartbeats. The indicator makes a subtle movement upstream and you set the hook...the fact that it is winter completely fades away.