Hello everyone,
I just got back from a 2 day fishing trip with my Dad up on the Vedder River in B.C Canada, and I figured that I'd share a few photos with you guys.
We got up there at about noon on Friday, while I'm fortunate enough to live within 45 minutes of this beautiful spot, my Dad was coming from a little further out so he was eager to get out of the vehicle and stretch his legs. My cousin recently gave a nice little trailer to my parents, it was kind of a beater but my dad promptly tore apart brought it back up to a usable standard. My mom named it the "Possum Lodge"... (anyone know the reference?) They went for a quick trip a little earlier in the year, but this was the first time that I got to use it, so I was naturally really excited.
The last time that my Dad and I had gone camping or fishing was almost 6 years ago, so we were both really looking forward to relaxing down by the river and tossing the line into the water for a couple days. The campsite in question is a beautiful spot about 20 minutes outside of Chilliwack B.C called Tamihi campground. This is a place where my dad and I have been going for most of my life, and despite being an organized campground that's fairly accessible, somehow remains mostly free of those who might cause problems.
As we pulled into the site, we were greeted by a pleasant looking older fellow who shook are hands and introduced himself as Deeter. He was a new face, and after speaking with him for a little while, we found out that this was his first season running the camp. We asked a liitle about how the fishing was, and he told us that the river was absolutely thick with fish. Apparently just that morning as he was walking, picking up trash along one of the many creeks that feeds the river in the area, he was able to delicately reach into the water with his garbage pinchers, and pick a fish right out of the water!
He stressed that he was very careful not to hurt the fish, and then put it right back of course, but he had definitely peaked our interest... You see, for whatever reason, the Swift males have garnered a reputation for being terrible fishermen, so we were eager to break the curse, and fish in these numbers couldn't hurt. We were gunning for the Coho or Spring in the river, but the Pink salmon outnumber them like 300:1 at the moment.
After our little talk with Deeter, we drove to our site and set up camp, and I have to say that trailer camping is a little more luxurious then I'm used to, but you have to love the convenience!
This was camp after we got it all set up, that's my Dad in the photo working on his gear.
Here are a few more of the immediate area within the campsite.
Once we got our things in order, we decided to head down to the river and see if we could get in on the afternoon bite, its was a little crowded down there, with many of the locals driving in early to get the good spots. But everyone was in a good mood because the bite was on, and they were more than willing to make enough room for everyone.
Unfortunately for my Dad and I, despite a few solid bites, the curse held through until we started to lose light, so we headed back to camp and decided to ask around the next morning and see what other people were using to such great success.
Here are a few photos of the river and the trail than ran beside it on day one.
The compulsory knife shot
The next morning we got up nice an early to try and beat everyone down to the nice pools where the fish were accumulating, but unfortunately for us, we weren't early enough. We decided to hold off fishing for the moment and decided instead to chat with a few of the other guys down there to see what was working. We met a nice fellow named Lloyd who talked with us for a little while about what was working for him, turns out it was nice and simple: some Red wool with a little bit of white wool on a barbless hook, 18 inch's of leader to the lead and then 4 feet from the lead to the float.
He then told us that we would be better off talking to his friend, and pointed to an older fellow who looked to be in his early seventies down on the rocks. He was busy so we resolved not to bother him at the moment and to speak with him a little later.
Unfortunately that opportunity never came for me, but my Dad had the chance to pick his brain a little while for what he knew. His Name was Mitty, and it turns out he was actually 91 years old, and that he has come to this spot for a month every year for the last 50 years! He knew the area like the back of his hand, and confirmed exactly what Lloyd had said. We felt lucky that he was so eager an willing to pass on the wisdom that he has gained from all these years on the river.
Later that evening the bite was off so rather than fishing I decided to take a walk and reminisce about old times spent wandering these forests. Here are some photos of day 2 at Tamihi.
This is Actually the Gravel Pit where my Dad first taught me to shoot many years ago.
We got up at 6 am the next morning and managed to be among the first to be down on the rocks. We were quickly greeted by a nice guy named Adam who offered to share his spot with my Dad and I, taking turns casting into a pool where he was literally pulling a fish out every ten minutes. Turns out he was onto something because on my Dad's first cast, he landed a 15 pound Coho, bright as can be, just a beautiful fish.
We fished there for about 3 hours, and in that time had many bites. Adam was able to land close to 20 fish, while my Dad and I managed 4 each, the majority of these fish were pinks that were a little beat up, so they went back. The Coho was legal and became dinner :thumbup:
Unfortunately I didn't get any photos of the fish because I was busy either fishing, or getting fish off hooks, so you'll just have to take my word for it.
Here is a picture of the Last morning at Tamihi, my dad and I will hopefully be going back for a day trip in a few weeks when the coho are running strong!
Thanks for looking guys!
-Will Swift
I just got back from a 2 day fishing trip with my Dad up on the Vedder River in B.C Canada, and I figured that I'd share a few photos with you guys.
We got up there at about noon on Friday, while I'm fortunate enough to live within 45 minutes of this beautiful spot, my Dad was coming from a little further out so he was eager to get out of the vehicle and stretch his legs. My cousin recently gave a nice little trailer to my parents, it was kind of a beater but my dad promptly tore apart brought it back up to a usable standard. My mom named it the "Possum Lodge"... (anyone know the reference?) They went for a quick trip a little earlier in the year, but this was the first time that I got to use it, so I was naturally really excited.
The last time that my Dad and I had gone camping or fishing was almost 6 years ago, so we were both really looking forward to relaxing down by the river and tossing the line into the water for a couple days. The campsite in question is a beautiful spot about 20 minutes outside of Chilliwack B.C called Tamihi campground. This is a place where my dad and I have been going for most of my life, and despite being an organized campground that's fairly accessible, somehow remains mostly free of those who might cause problems.
As we pulled into the site, we were greeted by a pleasant looking older fellow who shook are hands and introduced himself as Deeter. He was a new face, and after speaking with him for a little while, we found out that this was his first season running the camp. We asked a liitle about how the fishing was, and he told us that the river was absolutely thick with fish. Apparently just that morning as he was walking, picking up trash along one of the many creeks that feeds the river in the area, he was able to delicately reach into the water with his garbage pinchers, and pick a fish right out of the water!
He stressed that he was very careful not to hurt the fish, and then put it right back of course, but he had definitely peaked our interest... You see, for whatever reason, the Swift males have garnered a reputation for being terrible fishermen, so we were eager to break the curse, and fish in these numbers couldn't hurt. We were gunning for the Coho or Spring in the river, but the Pink salmon outnumber them like 300:1 at the moment.
After our little talk with Deeter, we drove to our site and set up camp, and I have to say that trailer camping is a little more luxurious then I'm used to, but you have to love the convenience!
This was camp after we got it all set up, that's my Dad in the photo working on his gear.

Here are a few more of the immediate area within the campsite.


Once we got our things in order, we decided to head down to the river and see if we could get in on the afternoon bite, its was a little crowded down there, with many of the locals driving in early to get the good spots. But everyone was in a good mood because the bite was on, and they were more than willing to make enough room for everyone.
Unfortunately for my Dad and I, despite a few solid bites, the curse held through until we started to lose light, so we headed back to camp and decided to ask around the next morning and see what other people were using to such great success.
Here are a few photos of the river and the trail than ran beside it on day one.




The compulsory knife shot


The next morning we got up nice an early to try and beat everyone down to the nice pools where the fish were accumulating, but unfortunately for us, we weren't early enough. We decided to hold off fishing for the moment and decided instead to chat with a few of the other guys down there to see what was working. We met a nice fellow named Lloyd who talked with us for a little while about what was working for him, turns out it was nice and simple: some Red wool with a little bit of white wool on a barbless hook, 18 inch's of leader to the lead and then 4 feet from the lead to the float.
He then told us that we would be better off talking to his friend, and pointed to an older fellow who looked to be in his early seventies down on the rocks. He was busy so we resolved not to bother him at the moment and to speak with him a little later.
Unfortunately that opportunity never came for me, but my Dad had the chance to pick his brain a little while for what he knew. His Name was Mitty, and it turns out he was actually 91 years old, and that he has come to this spot for a month every year for the last 50 years! He knew the area like the back of his hand, and confirmed exactly what Lloyd had said. We felt lucky that he was so eager an willing to pass on the wisdom that he has gained from all these years on the river.
Later that evening the bite was off so rather than fishing I decided to take a walk and reminisce about old times spent wandering these forests. Here are some photos of day 2 at Tamihi.





This is Actually the Gravel Pit where my Dad first taught me to shoot many years ago.

We got up at 6 am the next morning and managed to be among the first to be down on the rocks. We were quickly greeted by a nice guy named Adam who offered to share his spot with my Dad and I, taking turns casting into a pool where he was literally pulling a fish out every ten minutes. Turns out he was onto something because on my Dad's first cast, he landed a 15 pound Coho, bright as can be, just a beautiful fish.
We fished there for about 3 hours, and in that time had many bites. Adam was able to land close to 20 fish, while my Dad and I managed 4 each, the majority of these fish were pinks that were a little beat up, so they went back. The Coho was legal and became dinner :thumbup:
Unfortunately I didn't get any photos of the fish because I was busy either fishing, or getting fish off hooks, so you'll just have to take my word for it.
Here is a picture of the Last morning at Tamihi, my dad and I will hopefully be going back for a day trip in a few weeks when the coho are running strong!

Thanks for looking guys!
-Will Swift