Archives : 2010 : August

GONE FISHIN’

Black Butte Ranch is just a few miles from the epicenter of some of the best fly fishing in the world.  The sport’s popularity has skyrocketed in the last 50 years, but it’s history dates back to ancient Greece.  Many credit the first recorded use of an artificial fly to Roman Claudius Aelianus near the end of the 2nd century. In  a book he authored On the Nature of Animals, he artfully describes the practice of Macedonian anglers on the Astraeus River:

“I have heard of a Macedonian way of catching fish, and it is this: between Boroea and Thessalonica runs a river called  the Astraeus, and in itthere are fish with speckled skins; what the natives of the country call them you had better ask the Macedonians.  These fish feed upon a fly peculiar to the country, which hovers on the river.  It is not like the flies found elsewhere, nor does it resemble a wasp in appearance, nor in shape would one justly describe it as a midge or a bee, yet it has something if each of these.  in boldness it is like a fly, in size you might call it a midge, it imitates the  colour of a wasp, and it hums like  a bee.  The natives generally call it Hippouros.

These flies seek their food over the river, but do not escape the observation of the fish swimming below.  When the fish observes the fly on the surface, it swims quietly up, afraid to stir the water above, lest it should scare away its prey; then coming up by its shadow, it opens its mouth gently and gulps down the fly, like a wolf carrying off a sheep from the fold or an eagle a goose from the farmyard; having done this it goes below the rippling water.

Now though the fishermen know this, they do not use these flies at all for bait for fish; for if a man’s hand touch them, they lose their natural colour, their wings wither, and they become unfit feed for the fish.  For this reason they have nothing to do with them, hating them for their bad character; but they have planned a snare for the fish, and get the better of them by their fisherman’s craft.

They fasten red (crimson red) wool around a hook, and fix onto the wool two feathers which grow under a cock’s wattles, and which in colour are like wax.  Their rod is six feet long, and their line is the same length.  Then they throw their snare, and the fish, attracted and maddened by the colour, comes straight at it, thinking from the pretty sight to gain a dainty mouthful; when however, it opens its jaws, it is caught by the hook, and enjoys a bitter repast, a captive.”

And thus the humble beginnings of a sport that captured the hearts of many a fisherman and filled them with a passion for the challenge of outsmarting the fish. Fly fishing offers  a way to commune with nature as it reinvigorates your mind, body and spirit.  It is an excellent teacher of patience and mindfulness. Our hope is that you will take the opportunity to come the Central Oregon and experience the uniqueness of fly fishing.  the best place to practice is here at the Ranch on Phalarope Lake.  In the early evening as the sun begins to set you can often see a dad or grandpa passing their tips on to a son or grandson.  What a great way to spend quality time, with your family or in solitude, and enjoy the peacefulness and serenity that fly fishing offers.

See ya around the Ranch!

Katie Williams

Black Swamp

According to Peggy Lucas’ book “There is a Place,” Black Butte Ranch, now known as one of Central Oregon’s premier resorts, was once called “Black Swamp.” It was a neglected part of Deschutes County for centuries, however, it was a popular stop for migrant Indian tribes as they moved from the Klamath region to the Columbia River. Lucas writes in the introduction to her book that Lt. Henry Larcom Abbot, who surveyed that part of Oregon in 1855 while in search of a railroad route, wrote in his log book, ” I hold little optimism that the area around Black Butte will ever be good for anything.”

Isn’t it interesting that 115 years later American ingenuity and determination  proved him wrong. In 1937  Mr. and Mrs. Stewart Lowery purchased the land and the name of the swamp was changed to “Black Butte Ranch.”  The wrought iron sign that is currently hanging from the entry post to the Lodge was made by a local ironmonger who was commissioned by the Lowery’s to make the sign.

The Lowery family eventually sold the Ranch to the Morgans in 1956.  In the first year he owned the property  he rented the pasture to a Madras rancher for grazing cows.  When the rancher delivered his cows to the site, his driver commented. ” I sure hate to say this Ken, but you’re gonna lose your ass on this deal.”  Morgan said, “Why do you say that?  This place has been famous for summer grazing every since it was stolen from the Indians.”  The driver then said, ” Well, it stands to reason.  Them damn cows are gonna spend all their time just gazin’ at the scenery instead of payin’ attention to the grass.”

How far we’ve come since those days, and yet the Ranch has come full circle with allowing cattle to graze once again in the meadow.  If you find yourself gazing at the cattle as well as the amazing views, give a nod of thanks to those whose efforts made Black Butte Ranch a possibility.

See ya around the Ranch!

Katie Williams