Wagons East... Part One

Wagon's East, a 1994 film that holds an impressive 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes is something of an enigma. First off, it's absolutely terrible... no way around that one. Second off, it doesn't seem to make much sense. I mean, sure the wild west was tough and all, but who would give up potential greatness to head back East?

Well, I may have a few chrome bright Winter Steelhead trickling into my area rivers, but I decided to make a bold decision myself. I eschewed the chrome winter fish that are beginning to show on my local streams, and loaded my wagon of an SUV and hit the road.

I was headed East, chasing the colored up fish of Summer that were just arriving to the Grande Ronde and Snake River basin. I had caught these fish months ago on the Columbia when they were as chrome bright as their Winter cousins and now I was looking to connect with them again.

Up until this trip, It'd been a slow month of fishing.

I had worked hard trying to pick up an odd Coho or late Summer Steelhead on numerous local rivers. I fished a small river on the coast that required a two mile hike to get to the first pool above the confluence with the Pacific. With a friend and his sons, I helped them get into a heap of Sea-Runs on the Cowlitz with my tied flies. I witnessed my brother catch his first trout on the fly which was pretty special too.

Above all those things, I continued my skunk-fest of swung Steelhead on the spey rod. So when I had contacted my East side friends about extending a work travel trip into a fishing weekend, I began to think the tide was going to turn. No, I wasn't terribly confident. A year of posting zeroes on the board does not exactly inspire confidence, but fishing the Grande Ronde and Snake can give you a slight feeling of hope.

The Ronde and Snake have relatively large (compared to many west side streams) or concentrated runs of Steelhead. That in itself is amazing because of all of the challenges these fish face (dams, predators, Columbia water temps). Despite these challenges, the fish continue to return each year and my friends from Spokane have gotten the fishery pretty dialed in.

Meeting with my friends on Friday was fantastic. A drive through lonely, albeit beautiful country lead me up gravel roads and a chance run in with Blake on his way back to camp. We set up camp, enjoyed a beverage, and rigged up our rods. Soon enough, we were hiking into holes and Blake was hooked up on his first Steelhead of the trip. The little wild hen inspired a little confidence in my mind that we were in for a good weekend.

Ryan showed up in the evening and we cooked up some camp dinner, enjoyed a few brews, and talked about Steelhead... non-stop. As we tucked in for the night, a storm came over the region and we were absolutely plastered with rain. Thoughts of west side Winter Steelheading came to mind and I wondered if this trip would turn into another west side style "zero" for me.

We woke up to grey skies and a slightly raised river. By 7 AM, I had my first steelhead of the trip. My first nymphed up steelhead in a long time, and my winter nightmare was averted. The little hatchery hen got a quick "thanks" and then was quickly dispatched, destined for the smoker. The day's skunk worn off, we worked run after run, and despite not turning up more fish, I had a good feeling about the rest of the trip.

To be continued...

A Float Through an Urban Wonderland

Yesterday evening, I was fortunate enough to join my good friend Wayne "Trout Jedi" Jordan on a float with Sean Visintainer, the owner of Silver Bow Fly Shop here in Spokane. I've floated the river before with Silver Bow, but that was last summer with my Father-In-Law. In fact, last year's trip was one of my first forays back into fly fishing and it occurred almost a year to the day prior.

Big Spokane River Redband.

This year, lower flows then the previous season coupled with rising water temps and lots of pressure had me thinking that the trip would be good, but perhaps not red hot. After being on the water for 10 minutes, I stood corrected. Wayne and I, under the direction of Sean of course, put on a friggin clinic. We netted countless Redbands, got a token pikeminnow, and I of course landed two Whitefish...

Another BIG Spokane River fish.

These weren't just any fish though... we caught some HOGS! I got my two best fish out of the Spokane ever, with both over 18" and chunky. Wayne got one that was pushing 19" and looked more like a Triploid out of a local lake. It was insane. Perhaps the best part was the fact that we used our own dropper flies (Wayne's Bastard Prince and my E-Z-Wing Caddis). Several fish also destroyed our Pat's Rubber Legs.

The "Jedi" Strikes Again!

When fishing with more experienced fisherman, I like to try and pick up some new tips or learn new tactics. If I'm lucky enough, the other fisherman will catch a flaw or two in my methods and help me improve my catching ability. A guided trip is an ideal time to pick up these pointers and tonight I was thankful that Sean noticed me pumping the rod too much while fighting fish. I was creating slack in doing so much and lost several nice fish early in the float because of this habit. Lesson learned, and by the end I was sticking and landing nearly every strike.

Healthy 14" Redband. Native, Feisty, Beautiful.

The float was a great time, and I highly recommend a trip with Silver Bow in the near future. They are a great shop with wonderful staff who know their stuff.

Putting a bend in the Winston. Thanks again Sean and Silver Bow!

The photos used in this blog entry were taken by Sean, Wayne, and myself!

Not What I Wanted...

This was a first for me. A sucker. A fairly big, nasty, slimy, stinky, sucker fish. Native... yes. Lame... also a yes. Fought like an old tire. 

Thankfully I got a few Redbands to start the day... I'll be back at it in a few hours with some friends. It's a good day off work despite mid 90 degree temps. 

Here's to hoping I'll be catching more Redbands than suckers in the evening.

Second cast of the day... the preferred quarry. 

Redbands Love Caddis Pupa...

The title says it all.

After Wednesday's dry fly success in Montana, I was productive Thursday. Applied to a few jobs, researched for my upcoming Montana overnighter, and cleaned the house. All done in time to hit the urban river for an hour of fishing before dark.

Native Redband trout were very willing to eat, the flows were lower, and I even managed to have a few fish break me off... not too common.

Did I mention the crazy guy walking around area howling before dark? A little entertaining, but mostly uncomfortable. The group of Juggalos (look it up... they're awful, and abundant in Spokane) having a picnic on the river were another surprise. When you hear things like "Woot! Woot!" while fly fishing, you know that you're in Spokane!

The best surprise was this fish though... 17"+ and very healthy.

Pat's Rubber Legs and a tan caddis pupa is a money combo at the moment. With flows dropping in pretty big increments over the next few weeks, I recommend letting the river settle for a day or two before venturing out. Let the fish get comfortable in their new homes and then head out, as they seem to respond better when they get comfortable with current levels. Just be ready to see your indicator go under when you get out there!

As always, practice catch and release on this river. Fish densities are very low, and these are truly wild trout. Savor every fish you catch, enjoy the moment, treat 'em with respect, and properly release them. If you see poachers on the river, call them in. You can dial 911 and report fish poaching or call the WDFW poaching hotline. I haven't encountered poachers yet this season, but I'm certain that they're out there affecting our local native trout population.

Now get out there and get some hook to mouth.

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.

An Urban Retreat

Yesterday at work was... well, how should I describe it? INSANE. Artfest has taken over the neighborhood, and the crowd at work was larger and more intense then most Fridays. Add to the fact that I worked from 11:15 AM until nearly 10 PM and you get one tired, burnt out restaurant employee. What could possibly be better than a little urban fly fishing to soothe my nerves? Maybe a beer, but that's a different story all together...

Double Nymph Rig. Check. 

I set out this morning on my favorite urban river (you know which one I'm talking about, so don't be shy) that just opened the day prior. Wild Redband trout along with a healthy dose of Mountain Whitefish and a few lunker Brown trout patrol the waters that I was fishing. None of these fish are in extreme abundance (it's a C/R fishery for trout) and bigger fish size is more typical than numbers of fish caught. Add in flows that are still over 10K CFS, no boat to fish out of, and you have a tough fishing situation.

This river is best fished with nymph rigs, and I came readily equipped with my 6 wt Scott, a Pat's Rubber Legs and a Spitfire attractor nymph. No dice on the first few holes I hit (though I did surprisingly see a fish rise) but after losing my Spitfire pattern to a tree (tight quarters + high water = lost flies) I tied on a tan caddis pupa pattern that I tie myself. Bingo. A few casts into a back eddy that formed between a few trees and some heavy current... Indicator DOWN. I hooked into a hot fish that took me into the current, ran at me (saw the fish in this case... big Redband), then back to the current and into some tree limbs... Uh oh. I feel the tension in the line slack and the fish was off. I was beyond bummed out.

I've lost some nice fish in this hole before and thought that it was going to get the best of me again. I sharpened up the caddis pattern hook before throwing out my rig again and mended to my hearts content letting the indicator work around the back eddy to the head of the pool... Indicator DOWN. I thought it was a hydraulic at first, but hydraulics don't make your rod tip dance, nor do they jump out of the water. After a nice fight, several aerial displays, and a tough time finding a spot to land the fish, I brought in my first urban Redband of the season.

First Redband of the Season.

Spunky little 12" native Redband.

The fish, 12" in the measure net and small for this river, was certainly not as big or feisty as the one I had hooked just minutes earlier, but I took an extra second with it in my net, thankful that it played along with my and helped alleviate my stress from a crazy day. The fact that it was my first of the season was also not lost on me as it flopped out of my hand while trying to take a close up shot... he shot off into the pool after sitting at my feet for a second, surely more wary of a fly in the future. And low and behold, my little caddis pupa pattern struck again. Here's to hoping that the Redband I caught today matures and grows to look like my birthday fish that I caught this past winter in the same exact spot.

Birthday Redband in Spawning Colors.

I only had one more takedown in the hour of fishing that I did. Homework, house chores, and another shift at work took me off the river before I would've liked. But I can't complain, because there's nothing like an urban retreat after a long, hard day.