Power Fishing Trip Report - Central Oregon, August 2013

Just because I can...

Two days, two fisherman, two rivers, and one mission...

Fish until we drop.

There is nothing quite like a power fishing trip... those trips where time is limited, your rods are always rigged and ready to go, every worthwhile looking pull off is explored, and you don't stop until your wife calls and tells you to come home.

My friend and I did that this weekend, and we sure as heck made the most of it.

Camping in the Sunriver area of Oregon leads to many quality fly fishing options, both riverine or lacustrine. It's especially helpful when a thunder and lightning storm moves in on your water, and a 20 minute drive will take you to less lethal waters. If only we had brought our float tubes, we'd have had more opportunities, but I can't complain!

During our weekend power trip we saw more people fishing some of these spots than I ever had before. It was borderline ridiculous at a few of our stops that we fished.

First to the hole, serenity for an hour, then five groups of anglers show up. My favorite section of a particular river was so heavily pressured that it's normally ravenous Brook trout had their bellies to the bottom in a way that I'd never seen before. Thankfully, some helpful local anglers gave us a tip on some currently red hot water nearby... Needless to say, we owe them a beer.

We caught Brooks, Bows, Browns and of course Mr. Whitefish, and we did it on streamers, nymphs, and dries. It was the best 43-hour power trip that I've yet to experience.

My fishing partner caught the biggest trout of his life (twice) and got his first Brown trout on the trip. I, on the other hand, lost the biggest trout of my life (multiple times... one was the size of a damn Steelhead...) and landed my biggest Brown yet. Needless to say, I should've been nymphing with my six weight instead of the five.

Enjoy the pictures and remember to make the most of your "power fishing trips."

Best trout of my friend's fly fishing career... for an hour. Then he caught a bigger one. 

My buddies first Brown trout. Great spotting on this guy.

Lamson reels... getting it done!

Even 13" Brook Trout love to crush streamers... Beautiful fish

My friend's big hen Brown. Love the sparse spotting on this one.

Best fish that I've landed on a 5 wt. You don't have to go to Montana to catch big healthy Browns.

Close-up. Love the blue shine on their gill plate.

Parting shot on the way out. Beautiful country, even prettier fish.

Dry Flies and Redemption, NW Montana Style.

After last week's 19-hour, one-day fishing adventure, I figured I'd take it easy for my fishing trip this week. I've got a 2+ day trip to Montana with the Trout Jedi planned for next week, and while gas is getting cheaper, me falling and destroying gear + not being home does cost money. And that rest and sleep thing... underrated in my mind.

Icing on the cake... 17+" small river Rainbow. Thank you Caddis hatch.

With all those factors in mind (and a Montana fishing license in my pocket), I figured I'd hit the St. Regis River for some mountain freestone action. A straight shot over I-90 (which parallels the river for most of its length before it dumps into the Clark Fork), the St. Regis River is a bit of an enigma. Not known for great fishing, it runs cold and features high gradient fishing in it's channelized waters (thanks Interstate!). Some of my friends swear by the river and gave me excellent intel about where to go and what to use... others said to stay away from it (they used less appropriate language). I decided to give it a shot.

What I found when I got to the river was interesting. Some fishy looking spots, freeway traffic blaring in the background, and very few fish. I several promising looking spots and saw just two fish (one of which said "no thanks!" to my Golden Stone pattern) in 3 hours of fishing. I followed my friend's advice but with water temps just barely over 40 degrees, I figure that most of the fish aren't terribly active yet... that and there wasn't much in the means of obvious holding water in the heavy-ish flows.

Dejected, I pulled into St. Regis, conferred with some locals (who also scoffed at my fishing their local river, telling me it'd been poor this year), and grabbed a bite to eat. I couldn't head home yet. A two hour drive with nothing to show for it? No. I decided to jet north an hour to the Thompson River... get a few hours in on the Thompson and then cut over Thompson Pass and be back by 8 pm. Not a poor plan it seemed. Worst off, I'd be down two more gallons of gas... but at 30 MPGs and $3.40/gallon (sad that I'm stoked about that), I couldn't pass up the opportunity to catch fish.

Last week on the Thompson, it was a nymphing clinic that my fishing partner and I put on... This week was slow on nymphing. I had one strike while nymphing a usual hole that produces for me. I worked my way upriver (which was substantially lower than last week) and pulled up to a favorite spot of mine.

Pulling off the road, I looked into the water below and saw rises... lots of them. I could literally see 30 fish stacked up in the current below... smallish fish, huge fish... it was like looking at a wild trout aquarium, and these fish were hungry. Money.

I casually worked up to a hole well above where the fish were working and examined the hatch... PMDs, Drakes, and an odd Golden Stone. And big looking ones. I tied on a Golden Stone, PMD double dry set up and went down the bank stealthily below the active fish. Now, I'm known to be a clumsy, piss poor wader. I could scare a fish across the river from me, but on this day, I was smooth. On my hands and knees, ninja-style smooth wouldn't even describe it. I made a first cast upstream to the rising fish and it was game on.

Westslope Cutthroat... A fishing partner would've made for better photos!

Cutthroats, Browns, Rainbows... it didn't seem to stop. While I didn't hook them all, and I certainly lost a few fish during the fight, it was a glorious time. Over the course of a few hours I landed several fish on the PMDs.

Feisty small Brown trout.

I rested the hole for 10 minutes at a time (it's a big run and you can fish different sections in it without scaring too many fish), and eventually noticed a lull in the action. I moved upriver to a different locale (which was a big producer last week) but came up empty handed... the lower flows made the hole less suitable for holding many fish.

Back downriver, I saw that a Caddis hatch had broken out and the fish were working the same hole that I had fished earlier. Re-rigging to a Yeager's Neversink Caddis/X-Caddis trailer, I played the same game working the bottom of the hole to the top... Money. It was just that kind of day. I landed the largest fish that I've caught of the Thompson... a 17" Rainbow that looked a lot like the Spokane River Redbands that I love so dearly.

Big Thompson River Rainbow. X-Caddis.

After three more fish in the same hole, I realized it was nearing 5:30 (PDT) and decided I should get back over the pass. It was my first time taking the Thompson Pass road, and I doubt I'll go another way again! I saved 40 miles and nearly a half hour of drive time... Only downside was a robin that decided to play chicken with my car on the CDA river road. My car won and I felt a little bad about the whole affair.

All in all, it was a great day on the river. I wasn't gone too much longer than I had originally planned, I caught nearly double digits trout on the dry, and got some stealth wading practice in. Always have a back-up plan, and never let a skunking ruin your day on the water.

Now it's time to gear up for my extended Montana trip next week. More reports to come! 

Sunny Skies, Healthy Trout, and Busted Reels

Graduation has come and gone. I've got a B.A. now, and have begun my first school-free summer in some time. I've been job searching, preparing resumes, and working my restaurant job in the meantime. I also have more time to fish... never a bad thing. Especially when you have a Montana annual fishing license.

This past week, with flows finally dropping, temperatures rising, and a day off work, I met with my friend Dustin (of Big R Fly Shop - Ponderay, ID) and headed out to a small tributary of the Clark Fork River in NW Montana. This stream was running just over 1100 CFS and dropped another 10% while we were on the water (about 10 hours).

Saw some drake activity, a few golden stoneflies, and lots of caddis in the evening. Rock checks revealed green drake nymphs, and caddis cases galore. I had three rods set up and the first run yielded the day's first fish. Double nymph rig, meet Rainbow trout. Shortly after our Rainbow friend came to net, a Whitefish followed. The next run yielded a small Cutbow, and we were into fish early and often.

A slight mishap occurred on the water early in the day. I took a spill on a large rock (studded boot bottoms, not a good call here!) and my reel took the most damage...

Broken reel... no good.

Shortly before I noticed the damage to my reel (one run later), I hooked into something BIG. It happened in a spot that is typically a "honey hole" of sorts for me. Big boulders in the water redirect the current as the river takes a hard turn, and the hole is DEEP. Think 15'+. Drifting my nymph rig through the hole, my indicator takes a slow deep pull into the water. I react and set the hook figuring that I snagged a rock. Now, rocks don't head shake and move though, and this fish has my 5 wt doubled over. Into the current, back into the boulders, up a bit (I see a nice big silhouette), and then back down... it was 30 seconds of bliss. While I began to walk down the shore towards Dustin, hoping to work the fish downstream and out of the heavy current, I feel my line tension slacken. NO! The fish was gone. Came unbuttoned. 

What was it? I have my thoughts (the fight, location, and seeming size of the fish indicate Bull Trout) but I can't be certain. This missed fish would haunt me all day.

Dustin got his first trout of the day in the same hole on a nymph rig and we head upriver to a spot that I had explored but didn't hook up at the previous trip to this stream. With water levels lower than before, the hole looks better than ever, and better accessible (a short hike and then wade out to a gravel bar) than my last trip. It was during the hike out to the hole that I realized my 5 wt reel was toast. Nymphing was out of the question at this point, as I did my fishing on a 4 wt that was rigged for dry flies the rest of the day. Dustin began annihilating Rainbows on this hole. It was a strike nearly every cast for him.

 Healthy Montana Rainbow

The fish Dustin was getting were of great size for this system. We're talking  average fish of 12" (the norm) and the ones he was catching were 15-17"+. Not shabby at all, and on simple attractor style nymphs fished at the bottom of slots. I threw dries while Dustin was harassing the trout down deep, and low and behold we soon had our first of three doubles for the day. 

Dustin's biggest Rainbow of the day... healthy fish!

I landed a fantastic Rainbow at the head of the run on a anato-may dropper fished below a Golden Stone. Great color on this 15+" Rainbow who had struck my dry on an earlier drift through the slot. 

Great color on this fish. My best (landed) trout of the day.

My one and only Brown trout of the day came in the same hole shortly after I caught the Rainbow. Dustin didn't get his Brown until later in the day, but it was a pleasant (and colorful) surprise when it finally met the landing net.  

Small water Brown trout. 

We fished the entire afternoon, and despite ever persistent drakes and caddis flies, few fish were consistently rising. After fooling multiple sub 10" fish on dries, I decided to re-rig my 4 wt as a nymphing rod, and was rewarded with a solid Rainbow on the last  productive hole of the day. 

Final tally was 20 fish to hand between the two of us and well over 20 fish lost. Gotta love barbless hooks. By the end of the day, Dustin and I were both muttering and joking about all the fish we'd lost. The colder water temps (hovering around 50) seemed to induce short/soft strikes. 

Lots of laughs, good brews on the riverbank, and some nice fish were what I will remember the most from this trip. The broken reel (sent to Lamson today... I'll have a post on the warranty service when it returns), lost (Bull) trout, and lack of sleep (5:30 AM - 1:AM on the road) won't dampen this angler's mood. 

It's Not Called Catching... For a Reason

I think the title says it all. The old BS saying, "It's called fishing, not catching..." really does hold true. It's all a part of the game that we knowingly, and lovingly play. Most of my recent trips have been successful, so apparently I needed a reminder of what getting skunked is like...

Here's how it went down...

The long work days this past weekend, coupled with my success on the river on Saturday A.M. may have gotten me a bit cocky.

"I'm gonna get 'em tomorrow... caddis pupa, soft pockets off heavy currents, etc... I'm dialed..."

I deserved what I had coming...

I met up on Sunday A.M. with Wayne Jordan to try and up my score on my lovely urban waterway. First hole (my usual $ hole) proved to be dead... perhaps I hooked the few trout that reside here yesterday and they are spooked, so we moved on. Wayne pointed out a nice looking little run. Tough to get to (drift was around some submerged brush) but sure enough, first cast, fish on. 10 seconds later... fish off. That would be the story of the day.

Next hole, fish on. This one was substantial and made an appearance near me before diving to the depths. It looked to be a Brown trout... and I've never landed a Brown on this particular river as they are exceedingly rare. Of course it came unbuttoned as well.

Wayne was matching my success with a few takes and no solid hook ups on streamers and nymphs.

We crossed over the river and worked another section. I had a fish chase my fly as I brought it in. Figuring the fish were keying on movement, I let my caddis pupa pattern swing on the next cast through the hole. Fish on... fish off. Unbuttoned.

Next cast... same game. But this one was on for a good amount of time. Felt like a nice fish, and my 6 wt was bent in agreement. A minute later, and a few runs and my fly came back at me again. Another strike on a retrieve, a short fight, and a fishless fly came back before we called it a day. 5 hook ups. No landings. Really?

I'm not new to such things. What fly fisherman doesn't know the pain of losing a good fish? I'd like to meet this magical fisherman and learn their tricks if they even exist. At least my reactions to losing hooked fish aren't nearly as ridiculous as they used to be... (see loud, frustrated, potentially profane, etc)

Here's a gem of a shot that Wayne took of me in the fall on a local lake. I, of course, lost this nice Rainbow a few seconds after the photo was taken. I'm fairly certain that things were muttered that I cannot type on this blog.

Losing Hooked Fish. It Beats Not Hooking Them At All!

Annoyed with the results of our Sunday A.M. trip, Wayne and I met up for a few hours of fishing before sunset on Monday. The river had risen 3,500+ CFS over the past 20 hours and despite heavy rainfall and higher flows, there were fish working the surface. We nymphed, fished dries, and I threw some streamers just for the heck of it. Nada. Not one strike. The only thing of significance was me loosing my waterproof point/shoot camera somewhere along the river. (Which after a morning search is still missing... time for a new one). Oh, and a skunk ran in front of my car on the way home, though I avoided hitting it by a few feet... ironic or what?!

After Monday evening's debacle, I've come to a few conclusions. One, getting skunked is never welcomed, but it's always educational. On Sunday, I was doing many things right (hooking 5 fish in a few hours on my favorite urban river is not a bad day!) but I learned that I needed to scout my spots better to fight/land fish, and improve my fish fighting tactics. On Monday, I learned a few things as well... the flows were getting tough, I need to double check my pockets/secure my camera in the future, and I should get back to refilling my fly box while the river is out of shape from all this rain!

Caddis Pupa Lineup. Money Patterns... Olive, Caddis Green, Tan, and Brown.

Lake Season Wrap-Up

It's nearing that special time of year where rivers are opening up and coming into shape. Combined with the fact that I'm almost done with my time in Cheney (my usual jumping off point for lake fishing) and the end of my Spring lake season is near.

I'm one of the few younger guys around here that truly enjoys stillwater fishing, but I must admit that running water brings more excitement to me then sitting in a float tube getting blown around a desert lake. This Spring, it has been predictably windy, fishing has been hit or miss, and I've explored some new waters. There are moments when I'm on a lake and I feel completely lost, not knowing why my pattern that worked the day before is failing me, or where the fish are at. I know what bugs are hatching/working, but I wonder if weather system changes, lunar phases, or something else keeps fish down.

Needless to say, I've experienced a few skunks on the lakes this year, but I also had some dynamite days. I'm happy to say that I hit the local lake Trout Slam this year... 4 hours on the water, 3 different trout species to hand (Brown, Tiger, Rainbow...) and all were BIG and healthy. Not bad work... especially since they took my own tied chironomids and leaches.

Big (read long) Tiger Trout

Lacustrine Brownie (not a fan of the net)

Gorgeous Rainbow in my Sunburned Hand

To wrap it up, I had a great time this year spending days on the water with good friends. No truly banner days (4 fish days were the norm) but some fun experiences. I got my first Amber Cutthroat (on a dry fly no less), finally caught fish on chironomids (definitely worthwhile... with a beer in hand), and had my first experience with ticks (not a pleasant thing to find on your float tube after taking out). 

Blurry Amber Lake Cutthroat

My last trip was a fun one but water temps were nearing the mid 60 degree mark which means that fishing the area lakes (for trout!) will soon end for me until the cooler days and nights of Fall arrive. Not necessarily a bad thing though as I have many squiggly blue lines to follow and fish, as well as some road trips to high altitude lakes brimming with eager fish waiting for my fly.

Heftiest Rainbow of the Spring Season