Fishing in Blizzard Conditions in the Clouds on the French Italian Border
On our second day of fishing in the Gran Paradiso National Park, my head guide suggested that we head to a high mountain lake to do some dry fly fishing for far browns and rainbows. Now I’d been to this lake before and knew it to be an excellent day trip, with some of the most spectacular views I’ve ever seen when fishing. The lake is two valleys over from where we were staying and while we knew it might be a little colder over there, we really had no idea what we were in store for. As we drover higher and higher into the mountains, the rain started to be come sleet and once we hit the tree line, the snow was constant. We parked at the old Italy/France border post, long abandoned as the EU came into being, it was fascinating to see and stand amongst such an outdated relic, whose antiquated presence was almost comical. The old border, with huge cement blocks that ran right into the mountain, with old run-down administrative buildings that once were the bustling frontier entry and exit points high between the two countries. It reminded me of looking at an old biplane, something that had clearly long outlived its usefulness.
The white out conditions only added to the fun and our hearty group of 6 determined anglers and 3 guides hiked up the mountain footpath into what felt like a white void of biblical proportions. The 45-minute walk straight up was occasionally interrupted by clients asking if “there really was a like up there”, with brief patches of visibility that would come and go every 10 minutes or so. It pays to have good gear and proper clothing and all of us were prepared, as every smart angler should be when fishing the mountains.
When we finally made up to the lake, the scene was breathtaking and there were even a few trout rising in the cold morning air. The rods were hastily strung up and the amazing Jo Clough, all five foot of her landed the first fish of the day, a nice little Rainbow that may have been the most well-earned fish that was caught anywhere on earth that day. All day the snow just kept on coming. Surrounded by mountains and fishing in the clouds, this was a day unlike anything any of us had every experienced before. The dry fly fishing was not that great, through several large trout were busted off as the cold fragile tippet shattered on hook sets that were even minutely over powered. Rob Cesta landed a nice Tiger Trout part way through the day and a couple of other fish were caught. That was it! When I got up to the lake, I didn’t even bother to string up a rod. I wanted to take pictures and walk around keeping everyone’s spirits up, when the snow turned wet and damp. When one of the guides broke out a bottle of Grappa, the cheer that went up was likely audible in France. With only a few fish landed for the day, every single member of the group loved that day like few others. I never even cast a fly and I would go back there tomorrow and do it again in a heartbeat.
It can’t just be about the fish. The uniqueness of the experience, along with who you are sharing it with, matters far more than how many fish you landed or how big they were. Fishing in the snow clouds is a cherished memory and perhaps the highlight of my year.
