Argentina Flyfishing: A Rainbow Trout Nirvana
Enjoy A One-Of-A-Kind Flyfishing Experience At Argentina’s Estancia Laguna Verde
The hot, savannah-like landscape of northern Argentina slowly gives way to a vast brown plain, rocky and wild. Here and there, glacial-tinted rivers slice the landscape, their green-blue waters contrasting sharply with the monotones of the land below. It’s open country, with wild, sweeping estancias taking up the land and marking out their domains in this southern tier of the continent.
Coach class on the little Aerolíneas Argentinas flight far surpasses most U.S. domestic flights in both comfort and service, but I pay little attention to the plane itself. My eyes are fixed out the window, watching Argentina pass beneath me. The flight from Buenos Aires to El Calafate is a little over three hours, just enough time for my anticipation to build. Down there, somewhere underneath us, is my next stop. Somewhere down there is Lago Strobel.
Fly Anglers Connect
One thing I’ve learned about anglers over 15 years of traveling around the world for fly-fishing industry work: We find each other. Some invisible force draws fly fishermen to each other, an unspoken familial connection, a shared language despite any actual language barriers that may exist.
I first met Alkhas, a Hungarian angler also traveling to Estancia Laguna Verde, in the plane boarding line in Buenos Aires when a voice behind me said, “You’re going fishing.” I suppose the worn YETI backpack and the Pelican case sporting fishing-related stickers were good giveaways. We then struck up a friendly conversation while waiting for our luggage in the El Calafate airport before parting ways to our respective hotels, to be later reunited on the transfer van the next morning.
That same van drove us halfway to the lodge, where we rendezvoused with the lodge guides and their squadron of Hilux trucks. They’d been waiting, ready to grab the week’s new anglers and our bags before traversing the remaining three-odd hours on dirt roads to the lodge. I jump in a truck with Al and guide Esteban, who, it turns out, is dating Karina, the lodge manager and cousin of a guide friend I met while fishing in Bolivia. They all hail from El Bolsón, a small town in Patagonia. Small world. A different Argentine guide friend messaged me that night, seeing we’d met. “Say hi to Estevie!” he requests, sending a greeting to Esteban.
I laugh. One degree of separation, indeed. We all know of each other, and now we have the week to go fishing in one of the best trout fisheries on the planet: Lago Strobel.
Welcome To “Jurassic Lake”
Strobel Lake rests in Argentina’s Santa Cruz Province, home to less than 300,000 people in all—statistically, a region less dense with human life than the Sahara Desert. The rugged landscape is dotted with gauchos and their sheep, large ostrich-looking birds called rhea (which are, indeed, distantly related to ostriches and emus), and guanaco, a South American camelid closely related to the llama. Occasionally, flamingos can be seen on the lagoons—bright splotches of color on an otherwise largely monochrome landscape.
Strobel itself, however, is far from monochrome. The bright waters stand out sharply against the terrain, a massive turquoise interruption to the browns and grays. Perhaps the last thing you expect to come across in the otherwise arid landscape—it’s a scene fly anglers could only conjure up in their dreams—a massive body of water inhabited by, admittedly, weirdly big trout.
We spend the first few hours at Estancia Laguna Verde, settling into our rooms after a warm welcome and a hot lunch. Gear is sorted, waders and boots disinfected, and then it’s time to hit the lodge’s lagoon: Laguna Verde. A few afternoon hours of fishing allow the guests to shake off their travel days, and the guides see what they are working with for the coming week. It’s a fitting welcome to this place, a way to take a peek at the kind of fishing we’ll see through the week and just enough to leave one wanting more. But soon it’s time for dinner and, as I quickly learn, meals at this lodge are too good to be missed.
The lodge is laid out in an “estancia house” style, with a sweeping guest wing accommodating up to 10 anglers per week. The bedrooms are exquisitely fashioned, with some of the fluffiest duvets and best mattresses I’ve seen in a lodge in a very long time. En suite bathrooms have hot water 24/7, and the Wi-Fi is just about as fast as my internet connection back home. The spacious wader room is the hub each morning after breakfast as anglers gear up into their tidily-dried gear before heading out onto the water.
The Trout We’ve Dreamed Of
Lago Strobel has gained the nickname “Jurassic Lake” for good reason. The rainbow trout here are almost unreasonably large; the average size would be a true monster in most other fisheries worldwide, and trout over 20 pounds are caught weekly. A steady diet of freshwater shrimp (scuds) keeps the rainbows healthy and growing at marvelous rates, and the sheer numbers of fish in the lake are staggering. The main target is the lake, but for anglers who love a river-fishing experience, the lodge also has exclusive access to more than 10 kilometers of the nearby Barrancoso River, which experiences two runs of trout per season and is wonderful to walk.
The act of fishing Strobel feels a bit like fishing in an other-worldly saltwater environment where it’s nearly always windy, and there are trout instead of the usual saltwater species. The crystal-clear water is tinted just slightly turquoise, clear enough that it’s possible to watch fish moving deeply within the water column along the shoreline on a bright day. Underfoot, a white calcium carbonate layer on the rocks makes it feel eerily like walking on a coral-lined island, and when the wind is just right, the lake develops a wave pattern that feels very much like surf. One day, I close my eyes after making a cast and focus on the feel of the surf splattering my wading jacket, the rocks crunching under my boots, and think how strange it is to be in full cold-weather fishing gear in a place that, save for the air and water temperatures, feels like it could be an atoll reef edge in the South Pacific.
Even the equipment would suit light saltwater fishing; after all, the eight-weight in my hand has seen more bonefish than trout in its lifetime. Back home in Montana, I’d laugh at the thought of ever using an eight to chase after a rainbow trout. Here in Santa Cruz Province, it’s just right for chasing big fish on a windy day, and nine-weights are also common.
Estancia Laguna Verde has access to roughly 14 kilometers of the massive lake, allowing guides to position anglers in various places depending on conditions. And conditions, well, they change quickly down here. A windy, cold morning may give way to a hot, sun-shirt-worthy afternoon, or vice-versa. The old wisdom of “layer up and bring more layers in the truck” holds true here, perhaps even more than most other fisheries. Keep your layers close and don’t try to second-guess the morning weather.
As suits tradition, the team has named many of the beats we fish over the years. One morning we’re at “La Bajadita” (the descent), and that afternoon we transition over to Camelot. Monster Bay, a large bay with easy access, is a favorite for very windy days as the prevailing wind can be at the anglers’ backs, or at least on their off-side. High-wind days find us all tucked into Monster, cheering each other on through the wind, the guides keeping a careful eye on the anglers while they pass around a Stanley cup of maté. Fuel for the day ahead.
The balanced leech is king here. The guides love it, the fish love it and those of us who tie love it, as it’s a pretty quick and easy creation to craft. Often suspended under an indicator or underneath a thick-foamed Chernobyl, the fly rests horizontally in the water column, resembling just what it’s been named after—a leech cruising along. Sure, we dive into other flies throughout the week—at one point, I bring out a Zonker that I try to catch at least one fish on each trip, and I had my biggest sea-run brown trout in Iceland last fall. It works, just like it somehow always does, but after a couple of decent fish on that fly, I find myself returning to an olive-balanced leech. It just seems right, and the trout agree with me.
We break for lunch every day around 1 p.m., heading for one of several huts dotting the shoreline. It’s a midday rendezvous with the other anglers and guides, seeing how the day is going, sharing reports on what’s working and what isn’t, and telling the inevitable tall tales. On cold days, the guide team crafts a hot lunch, often a goulash of sorts, which, on a chill, windy day is one of the best imaginable things at the time. We drink wine and make coffee, and the maté goes around again. Then it’s time to load back into the Hilux trucks and again hit the water. There are trout waiting.
The A-Team Of Guides
It’s impossible to talk about any quality lodge operation without talking about the guides. The team here, all fishy, fun, and charismatic Argentines, is led by head guide Martin. On one of our last mornings of fishing, part of our group is spread out along a rock wall at a place called El Puestro, fishermen dotting the shoreline. It’s an eerily calm morning—too calm, really—but we’re giving it a good try. I’ve joined three lovely, good-humored Swiss anglers who can have fun regardless of the conditions and who also seem to catch good numbers of fish. (A trend which, in turn, prompted quiet discussions about good vibes attracting fish.) Each sizable fish was celebrated with a pull off a bottle of Chivas Regal 12, which also did its job of buoying spirits.
This most excellent Swiss contingent was under the careful eye of Martin and, thankfully, didn’t mind the gringa fotógrafa coming along for the morning with her cameras. When the group started calling out the Mario Kart song whenever someone flubbed a cast, I knew I’d chosen wisely. Good vibes abounded. And as often follows—and despite the challenges of dead-calm conditions—Marc, Peter, and Gregoire brought in plenty of fish for me to photograph. It’s a good guide who can bring that kind of relaxed, fun vibe to a day.
The other guides I get to meet and work alongside that week fall into the same vein: relaxed in their professionalism. Seasoned. Competent. It’s a nice change from the influencer-come-guide trend I’ve seen lately stateside. The team here knows what they’re about, how to take good care of their people, and how to make the long, windy days productive regardless of the conditions. Esteban, Malco, Nano, Bruno, Roman … the team just gets it done.
The Good Life At Estancia
I might have a biased view of lodges. I’ve been lucky enough to live and work in some of the best worldwide, so I am always curious to see how different lodges present themselves. In a nearly uncanny way, Estancia Laguna Verde feels like home very quickly. From the small details in the room—a dish of candy on the table, a water bottle waiting to be filled with fresh spring water, and a herd of sweet, curious cats lounging about outside—I find myself letting out a long breath, my shoulders relaxing.
Talking about the lodge without mentioning the food and wine would be remiss. The Estancia runs a marvelous kitchen staffed with a talented team that turns out meals that would be fitting in a fine city restaurant. The arrival of breakfast brings cook-to-order eggs accompanied by homemade bread and pastries each morning lovingly crafted by baker Sara, along with actual espresso, fresh fruit, yogurt, and more. Dinners are refined and accompanied by thoughtful wine pairings; one night we enjoy a squid-ink ravioli with shrimp, and another night is excellent lamb. Each dinner is followed by a fine dessert and—as we’re in Argentina—more wine.
And, of course, there is an asado night. Guides and guests gather at the quincho, a building with an indoor hearth and a long, sturdy wooden table, to enjoy a traditional Argentine asado with all the trimmings. The theme of an unforeseen fishing family also holds true here; everyone mingles, trading drinks and stories and laughter. It’s a true highlight of fishing in this part of the world.
Friday night, our final night at the lodge, is empanada night. It’s a fitting send-off; the guides join the guests again, enjoying tray after tray of seasoned empanadas and celebrating the week. We laugh, trade stories and reminisce. The meal serves as a final taste of Argentine lodge life before we brave back out into the world of airport meals and start the journey back home.
Final Hat Tip
In places like this—places that feel so oddly like home—it’s easy to slip into a routine and forget how special it truly is. Special to be in wild locations like this, to cast a fly into waters that hold trout such as these. One night midweek I glance around the table, looking at the cast of characters at the lodge on this random week—Alkhas, the inimitable Hungarian; Bill, the retired nuclear physicist with a penchant for singing opera at the table; me, the American photographer with a battered passport and a Pelican case full of cameras. We’re a motley group, but somehow it all works.
I smile. Truly, it would be foolish to forget how rare and wonderful all of this is. The ability to be in these places, to meet people who—regardless of who we are back at home or where that home is—gather to fish in strange corners of the world. It’s rare and wonderful and something to be celebrated … ideally with a glass of Argentine wine and another empanada.
Estancia Laguna Verde Travel Guide
Flights: International flights into Buenos Aires land at Ezeiza International Airport (EZE), a modern international airport with flights from several destinations in the United States. Travelers must then transfer via taxi or private transfer to the city’s second airport, Jorge Newbery Airport (EZE), which handles domestic flights. From there, an Aerolíneas Argentinas flight of about three hours takes anglers directly to the town of El Calafate.
El Calafate: El Calafate is a tourist town in Santa Cruz. Spend the night relaxing and enjoying a dinner of Argentine cuisine, or arrive a day early and take a tour of Los Glaciares National Park, home to the famed Perito Moreno Glacier and only 80 kilometers from El Calafate.
Transfers: On the morning of arrival to Estancia Laguna Verde, the lodge’s transfer can pick up anglers at their El Calafate hotels and drive them halfway to the lodge. At the midpoint, the van meets the guide team and their Hilux trucks, who will take fishermen the rest of the way to the lodge. The process repeats itself on the way out. For more, visit estancialagunaverde.com.