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.

Streamers... Central Oregon Report Part 1

What a week. Buying and moving into a house, keeping more than busy at work, and all of the other stress that comes with those activities has left me a little more tightly wound then normal.

Thankfully a family vacation to Sunriver was on the docket and this fly fisherman had plans. Sure, I couldn't fish the whole time (the wife might would have killed me), but I had a few goals.

1. Catch as many species as possible (Brook, Brown, Rainbow, and Cutthroat trout and Atlantic salmon were the goal)

2. Finally catch a fish on a streamer in a river (I don't know why I've not spent more time fishing streamers)

3. Fish the Upper Deschutes and Hosmer Lake

Check. Check. Check.

As the pictures clearly show, chunky Brookies love streamers near downed logs. After a slow morning on the river with our guide Griff (Fly and Field Outfitters, Bend), we went to some hard to reach water. He kept my Father-in-law and Brother-in-law busy nymphing up whitefish and brookies while I chased big guys on the streamer rod. I also got some Brook trout on dries and nymphs.

After fishing streamers so effectively that day, I don't know if I want to fish another way again!

Skunk Off...

Skunked: If you go fishing and catch nothing

I've been really good at catching nothing lately. Heck, it had been well over a month since I had landed a fish... sure, I've hooked trout and a mystery fish while swinging flies up in BC, but my futility streak had reached a breaking point. I needed to catch a damn fish.

Knowing that Steelhead are elusive creatures this time of year, I dragged my Dad out to Central Oregon with high hopes of putting up big numbers of trout on the Fall River. 

The Fall is a lovely, yet eerily artificial fishery south of Bend that has treated me very well my last few trips there. 99% of the fish are hatchery in origin and while there are a few lunkers hiding in downed timber, the majority of the fish are cookie cutter 8-12" planters. With my recent string of bad luck, the idea of 20-30 planters on the end of my 3 weight line sounded great!

After an early rise, we busted over the mountain, across the lovely Deschutes, past the turn off for the Crooked River, and the turn off for the Metolius. Either of those other stops would've been a good call and shorter haul! 

After arriving at my favorite spot on the river we cast, and cast, and cast... and we saw no fish. Hiking a nearly a mile up and downstream to hole after productive hole we were dumbfounded as to where all the fish were. We'd see a lone trout hiding in the downed trees but the normal honey holes were void of all trout life! Not even a blizzard mayfly hatch later in the day aroused activity.

Sure enough, we come to find out what had been going on. Recently, a family of otters had made their way back upriver from the Deschutes... let's just say they've been eating very well. River otters are cool creatures but given that an adult otter eats 2-3 pounds of fish per day, you can see that they can make a big impact on less wary hatchery trout. 

After three hours of crap catching, we decided to tuck our tails and make the hour diversion to the Crooked River. The Crooked has not exactly been kind to me (which is perplexing given it's reputation as easy water) but I was determined not to go home skunked.

We arrived to a very windy, and thankfully less pressured fishery, than I had encountered at the Crooked in early March. BWOs were coming off in droves, and there were a few small risers working the inside seams. I rigged up the nymph rod and went to work. Soon enough, three casts in a row were met with three hookups and landings. Life was good again. 

I caught typical Crooked River wild Redsides (6"-12") and though they weren't close to the size of a Steelhead, landing my first few felt just as great.  

As the day progressed, the focus was more on my Dad's casting and getting him into fish. He's not delved into fly fishing like I have and he has never had a casting lesson in his life. I'm not a true instructor, but working with him was a fantastic experience. He was throwing out some fantastic casts by the end of the day and he was working good water. If he hadn't had some short strikes and bad luck (he lost at least one fish), we both would've gone home skunk free.

Before we packed it up to drive the 3+ hours home, I insisted on working the dry fly rod. My 3 WT Sage had yet to land a fish on it and there were too many BWOs out on the water to ignore. Sure, I didn't see many risers and the wind was nasty, but I couldn't NOT make an effort. 

Blind casting through the middle of the River as I worked my way back up to the car I had a surreal moment. A subtle rise and sip of my emerger pattern, a nice flash, and the setting of the hook seemed to happen in slow motion. After this momentary blip of slow-mo perfection, the fish shot out of the water, jumping many times. 

This was not any old Crooked River fish, but rather a big fish for the watershed. She fought me tooth and nail and on a 3 WT, the near 15" Redside was like a Steelhead in my mind. A quick net, picture, and revival and she sped back to her prime lie. 

A perfect ending to a great day, and the skunk is officially off. 

Creating an Addict...

I'm not going to lie, I miss having a nice pool of friends to fish with. I had that in Spokane, though in truth they were also mentors to me on the water (and in life). I've since become somewhat competent on the water (when chasing trout) and I've begun to share my passion for fly fishing with others.

I've taken my Dad out a few times and though we never put up big numbers of fish, we've had a great time on the water. Aside from my Dad I have a few good friends who I fish with now and recently I've gotten my brother back on the water.

This past week, it was his first fly fishing experience.

A sixty degree day in Central Oregon greeted us, as did about a hundred other anglers on a six mile stretch of the Crooked River...

Needless to say, my brother caught his first fish on the fly (a camera shy Whitefish) and he managed to drink all the bourbon. I was particularly impressed with his methodical approach to nymphing runs. The kid just might be a natural once he gets his casting down pat.

After many hours on the water, we packed up and hit the road bound for Bend, hungry and thirsty. IPAs and a warm meal?! Yes please!

I hope this trip is the first of many. I may have gotten my brother hooked. Pun intended.

My Two Right Feet...

Back at it... yes sir.

After transitioning between jobs (restaurant to seasonal retail... more on that another day) and twelve straight days of work, I finally found myself with a few days off.

On my first day away from work, I celebrated my birthday with friends and family. It was a needed day that I enjoyed immensely, but something was still missing.

I needed to fish!

So today, I went with a new fishing buddy (Chris) and explored the mecca that is the Deschutes River near Maupin, Oregon.

Chris, working the "nervous" water.

I had heard that the trout fishing had been stellar the past few weeks on the D and steelhead were also still being taken. Trout and steelhead have a way of motivating me to drive two hours in order to (possibly) put a hook in their mouth.

A cool, but calm morning greeted us as we pulled into Maupin. As Chris rigged up his rods in the Maupin City Park lot, I threw out my nymph rig into the mighty D. First cast. First fish! A nice 15" Redband was my morning greeting... celebratory cinnamon whiskey went down the hatch and the curse was on.

A fish on your first cast can be a bad omen at times. It's not often that I get a fish so quickly and I normally don't buy into the superstition regarding it, but today the curse came through.

As we pulled up to the next hole, I began to wader up... CRAP. In my moronic, early morning packing, I accidently packed two right wading boots. A right footed Korkers Metalhead and Korkers Chrome boot are NO good for wading. Laughing at my luck, I ran back into town to rent a pair of junk boots for the day.

A windy, yet beautiful day on the Big D. 

The hit parade continued as the wind picked up throughout the day. What started as a light breeze was soon 20+ MPH gusts, ripping down the canyon. Throwing double nymph rigs became a chore of sorts, though I managed to get into a nice Redband that came to the net as I hung precariously on the side of a basalt boulder on the shores of briskly moving back eddy. Flows were over 7,000 CFS in town, and the river was fishable, but just barely.

Chris and I conjured up some over eager Chinook parr with dry flies in a spot, and we both missed a few dry fly strikes by trout before we decided to explore new water in hopes that the wind would be less intense downriver.

Wrong. The wind was still awful. I took out my spey rod at this point figuring that I might as well try to go big since the trout weren't being too cooperative. The steelhead were just as unwilling to play as the trout though Chris did get into his first Deschutes River trout.

Chris and his catch... gotta love native trout.

Chris was beyond excited as the fish took down his nymph rig and put on quite the aerial display. Despite being a newer fly fisherman, Chris did a great job getting in quality drifts and it was nice to share some tips that passed onto me with him. It always pays to pass on knowledge, and I really enjoyed that aspect of the trip.

We called it quits after being battered by the wind for 8 hours, bringing the wrong boots, and catching our first lower Deschutes Redband trout. For my first trip on big D, I sure can't complain.

I can't wait to fish the Deschutes again... maybe next time I'll bring the right (and left) boots!

The Highs and Lows of Trout Fishing...

This past week has been a roller coaster of sorts for me. I've fished two well known, fish packed bodies of water and have had two extremely different experiences.

To start the week off, I took my Grandfather along for a trip to Diamond Lake in Southern/Central Oregon. The drive down was miserably long (I had worked the night prior and slept for just a few hours), but upon arriving to the lake (a big one at 3,000 acres!) I was excited.

I've caught more fish out of Diamond Lake then I care to count. The lake is not only massive, but it holds Rainbow trout that average over a pound. Fish to 10 pounds swim in Diamond and a 20" fish wont raise an eyebrow on the dock. When we went to rent our boat though, something told me we were in for a rough day. Near sixty degree water temps and an algae bloom (pretty odd for October!) had kept fishing slow according to the resort staff. After driving 5 hours though, we didn't relent and hit the water.

Early in the day, my Grandfather caught a fish on eggs and since he was nose hooked, we released the little guy. I fly fished to my hearts content trying nearly every lake method I know. Nada. Most boats complained about off fishing, and these folks complaining were pitching power bait. Not good!

6+ hours on the water and I had just one definite strike. It was a first for me, a skunking at Diamond Lake. We tucked our tails between our legs and hit the road, homeward bound down the gorgeous N. Umpqua highway. I watched in envy as fisherman spey cast to Steelhead around every bend. I knew I needed a fish fix!

Low and behold, I returned to Central Oregon in the same week. A family member had work to do in Bend and I offered to drive, knowing that I could get 4-6 hours in on some water near town. With such a limited time frame I decided to hit a well known and easy to fish spring creek, the Fall River.

The Fall River is a beautiful spring creek that flows into the Deschutes near La Pine. The lower Fall, ironically below the Fall River Falls, holds native Redside/Redband trout, whitefish, and some monster Brown trout. Regrettably, the lower river closed the week before I made it down to Bend, so I was relegated to fish the upper river which is stocked with Rainbow trout from the Fall River hatchery. These fish stocked are from Crane Prairie Reservoir stock and are actually very attractive hatchery fish, but I must admit they still leave much to be desired compared to wild, native trout.

Some of the trout in the upper Fall reach upwards of 8 pounds, and I did spot a few lunkers hiding under the numerous downed logs in the stream. These big boys are targeted specifically by many local anglers and can be quite picky. Most fish in the river are 8-12" though, and these are what I had a field day with.

BWOs, Mahogany Duns, even a Callibaetis attractor, rose fish to the surface. I tried to target rising fish when it came to fishing dries. Many fisherman working dry flies seemed frustrated that they couldn't get fish to eat... they were simply fishing the wrong method in the wrong spots.

I worked a small double nymph rig through holes, putting a clinic of sorts on. Carefully working the nymph along the volcanic bedrock ledges under water, and around downed trees, I picked up some solid fish. In fact, I hooked one fish that was all of 17" and had him to the net before he came unbuttoned. CDC collar PTs, anato may nymphs, October Caddis pupa, and a good old tungsten weight fly were hot items for the trout.

By the end of my 5 hours of fishing in two different areas, I had caught at least 30 fish. I stopped counting at a certain point because it was so ridiculous. No, these weren't the wild trout that I so dearly love to catch, nor were they monster trout out of a lake that fight with reckless abandon. But they were a needed pick me up of sorts. An affirmation that I still am a fishy dude, even if I haven't gotten out as much as I would like to.

I guess one could say that the Fall River is like Prozac for a recently skunked fly fisherman.

Next time though, I'll up the game. I'll be wading the Metolius River chasing Bull trout with streamers. And I will most definitely be on the prowl for Steelhead as we have just received some much needed rain to get the fish active.

But for now, I'm content with my week of experiencing the highs and lows of trout fishing on the fly.