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!

Goodbye Spokane...

Goodbye Spokane.

It's been an weird interesting past year and a half in this town, and I sure as heck won't miss the snow, crappy roads, plethora of tweakers, nor will I miss the under-abundant cultural offerings.

I will, however, miss the good fishing friends, awesome co-workers, the Spokane River, and the fact that I lived in a jumping off point to famous/wonderful fly fishing waters within just a few hours.

Since the next day plus will revolve around finishing packing and loading a moving truck, I decided to get some final urban river time in with good friends and my Dad who is in town.

First up, was a Monday walk and wade on the Spokane with Wayne, the Trout Jedi. I cherish every opportunity that I get to fish with Wayne because I try to observe the way he inspects water, fishes it, and how he truly loves and respects the resource. If I was told to choose one fly fisherman who I look up to the most, I'd answer Wayne without a doubt.

Anyways, Wayne and I did some hiking, missed a few fish, fell in the river minutes apart from each other, and then proceeded to hook into, and land, some sweet Redbands. Urban gold as I like to call 'em.

A Redband in the net with my Prince nymph still attached. 

Wayne with some morning gold on the Spokane River.

After Wayne left for work, I returned home to prep for the move and plan the evening's float with my buddy Blake.

Blake had a raft on loan and we decided to put it to use on the Spokane. We launched mid day, and within 10 minutes on the water I had quickly hooked and lost two fish. The strikes were short and I was far from surprised considering recent reports from this stretch of water. Slow fishing, soft strikes, and warm temps were the reports from friends floating the river...

Sure enough, my luck changed. I hooked into a PIG. It flashed hard and turned right into the current. A good 20 seconds of fight were for naught though as it came loose. I landed a scrappy Whitefish in the same run minutes later but Blake and I talked about the lost fish the rest of the float.

After another nearly fruitless river mile, we beached the boat and began to fish the bank. Bingo. Double. I landed a healthy Redband and Blake netted a fat Whitefish.

Blurry shot, but a nice Spokane River Redband. 

Back to the raft, I switched spots with Blake and took the sticks. Disclaimer, I had only once before rowed a raft and I was TERRIBLE at it. For the first 100 yards or so, I felt that a repeat of my previous rafting experience was occurring, but something miraculous happened. I figured it out. That's right, I took the sticks for most of the rest of the float, skirted by some nasty water, got Blake into fish (I got a few more myself...) and developed some sweet blisters on my palms. The best part of it was the fact that I now feel comfortable running a raft and can be of some use to my float fishing friends besides the obvious gas money contributions.

The evening was a success and I had a great time fishing with a good friend. But onto my last Spokane River experience of the year...

My Dad came into town this morning and I had a few surprises for him. First off was a shiny new fly rod... nothing fancy now, but still a good, fishy piece of graphite. Second off, was that I was going to work with him on his casting and get him on the water.

After a nice lawn cast with the Old Man, I got him out on the Spokane. In the first run, I managed to hook (and land!) a feisty, and very nice Redband. Dad was a bit new to the throwing junk game (double nymph rigs on big water are not the easiest things to manage as a new angler) but he managed to up his game throughout the day.

Showing the Old Man how it's done in Spokane. 

We fished hard in several spots, but being that it was mid-day, I wasn't expecting much. Our last spot of the day yielded another gorgeous Redband to my rod, and another fish that when hooked went aerial and came unhooked.

Sweet fish coming unhooked? On my rod? On the Spokane? No way?!?!? I see a pattern developing...

Needless to say, it was a great experience taking my Dad out to water that has meant so much to me over the past year, and showing him how to fish it, and why the Redbands that I rave about are so special.

When I landed the first fish and showed it to him, he remarked at how it was such a beautiful trout... yeah Dad, rub it in. Those trout are now going to six hours away from me.

On to new waters, and new adventures.

Thanks Spokane. You've actually been pretty great.

Back in the Game

After a way-too-short trip to the Oregon Coast, I returned to Spokane the other afternoon...

It'd been over a week since I'd landed a fish and I was getting understandably antsy. I needed a fix. Despite the warmer water temps, and the fact that it was 94 degrees when I hit the water that evening, I had a good feeling that I was due for some urban Redband action.

The first few holes I hit (spring fed areas with heavy oxygen) are typically good producers for me... this day, they didn't surrender a single strike.

My disappointment was tempered though as another favorite spot delivered.

Gorgeous Male Urban Redband

A Bastard Prince pattern under a Pat's Rubber Legs was the trick. This fish fought like heck and despite being sub 16" he is probably my favorite fish of the season.

I'm hoping that I can get out for a bit Thursday. I've been packing up, checking on job apps, and working since I've been back in town. Spokane and its' myriad of fishable water is no longer going to be easily accessible to me so I need to get out and fish asap! And so should you! What's your excuse?

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.

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.