Wagons East: Part Two - Getting it Done

Working downriver, we fished several beautiful runs. The river was practically vacant considering it was a Saturday, the poor weather on roads leading to this Steelhead paradise being the main culprit.

In one particular run, we hit gold... Blake started the hot streak with a beautiful fish on the nymph rod.

I began to swing the bottom end of the run, working a seam that was practically mid-river. With my 11' switch rod, I got into a rhythm booming out a few casts to fish the seam effectively.

As I reached the tail end of the seam, I found myself standing on a rocky outcrop, trying not to slip while making one more distant cast. I made my cast into the seam followed by a quick mend... soon enough, I felt a distinct tug, tug, tug, and dropped my rod to the side. FISH ON!

It was a great feeling, and I sure as heck wasn't going to lose the fish. With help from Blake and Ryan, I brought the fish to the net. Naturally, I fumbled the handoff for a photo opportunity, and off went the fish (Note to self: bring mesh landing glove every time I fish!)

There was no photo evidence of the fish, but I was still shaking in disbelief. After 14 months of trying, I had finally swung up a fish on a two-handed fly rod.

Ryan took his turn working the run, as I took a break to ponder the moment. Blake's Springer Spaniel, Otto, joined me as we watched the guys continue to fish.

After what only seemed like five minutes sitting back and watching the guys fish, I hear another "fish on" and look downriver. Ryan is hooked up on the swing...

Ryan and Blake were machine like in fighting and netting the fish, a bright hen. This fish also decided to be shy for the camera, but we couldn't have cared less. 3 fish in the same run? What a day!

I couldn't keep watching the guys thump on fish, so I grabbed my nymph rod and worked the top of the run. Sure enough, fish on! A feisty fish came to the net, and I had my third Steelhead of the day!

Blake matched with another nymphed up Steelhead and we called it quits with five fish in the same run... what a day it had been.

Cold beers, warm brats, and chili kept us content despite the early setting sun. The red hot fishing had me wishing for the longer days of September, but we had a good plan for our last day on the river.

Sunday came, and we worked separate runs to start the day with nary a tug to show for it. Heading back to our go-to run from the day before, we hoped our fortunes would change.

The guys immediately went to swing the bottom half of the run, while I nymphed up top. After a few whitefish, including one that struck my indicator, I briefly hooked up to a Steelhead. Having lost my first fish of the trip, I was feeling fairly agitated. Without rechecking my rig, I kept casting and soon my indicator buried into the flow. I set hard, but nothing was there. Checking my rig, I figured out why... the fish had broken me off!

The guys kept signaling that they were getting "bumps" while swinging below and I couldn't help but get into the action.

After Ryan had gotten far enough down the run, I began to throw a few long distance casts. Not far from where I had gotten my first swung fish the day prior, my line went tight... fish on!

Photo by Ryan Bailey

This fish was a real treat. Aerial displays, long runs, and the sort of determination that wild Steelhead are known for. It took my own tied fly (another Steelhead first for me) and was the first fish that I've landed with my Hardy reel, which sang beautifully while the fish made its runs.

Photo by Ryan Bailey

After some tasteful photos, the little buck swam back into the river's current. The trip couldn't have gotten any better.

Or so I thought.

It was nearly time to head back to camp to pack up and head home. I asked Blake if I could get a few last casts in behind him, and I went to work.

With barely my shooting head out of the rod tip, my line went tight again... fish on! Another beautiful wild Steelhead had taken my self tied fly, and the fight was on. The beautiful wild hen Steelhead put on  another special show, and capped what will be an unforgettable trip for me.

Over a few days, we had combined to catch ten Steelhead... TEN! I finally got a fish swinging the two handed rod (three of them to boot), got Steelhead on my own flies, and explored new water. Getting to spend time with two good friends was the real kicker to this great trip. I certainly owe them a few days of local knowledge (however crappy it may be) on my home rivers!

As I made the seven hour drive back home, I kept replaying the trip in my mind. I headed East to get it done on the swing... Now to get it done on some of the west side rivers!

Photo by Ryan Bailey

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 Pleasant Surprise On A Dreary Day...

Skunk.

Skunk.

Skunk.

That's what I'm accustomed to when Steelhead fishing on the swing. In fact, I have only had a handful of recognized strikes since picking up the spey rod and I've only made good on a few suicidal salmon from those chances. Needless to say, I've been desperate to catch a Steelhead on the swing.

That all changed when this happened last week.

The Cowlitz River on the last Sunday of September... A day so ugly out, that the normal hum and drone of jet boats running up and down the river was practically non-existent. I fished with my friend and guide Mike Sturza of Lost Creek Fly Shop, and it quickly became a day that I'd never forget.

We began by targeting Sea Run Cutthroat on the swing with a two handed rod. Mike worked with me on my casting and, more importantly, my hook set. I've suspected that I've had more than the few handful of swung fly strikes that I have made count, and I knew that my hook set/perception of strikes was a major weak point in my swing fishing game. Having over a dozen early strikes from Sea Runs and receiving coaching on what to do when these strikes happen was a HUGE help. 

Sure, I may have missed two dozen fish over the course of the day, but the dozen plus that I hooked went a long way in improving my confidence and angling abilities. Mike and I couldn't stop laughing every time I reverted to my old bad habits, but they gradually faded as the day went on. One of my few good qualities is my ability to laugh at myself and on this rainy day, I was laughing with nearly the same frequency as the relentless rain.

The first Cutthroat was special, and with each fish I grew more and more confident in my abilities. I hooked one Cutthroat so large (and aggressive in it's take) that we thought it was initially a Steelhead. The day was rapidly becoming something special and the Sea Run fishery on the Cowlitz had me on cloud nine.

After moving spots a few more times, I was still throwing long casts with the two-hander hoping for a big tug instead of the Cutthroat that were so kind to us. Mike began fishing with a 6 wt Scott single hander for Cutthroat at the head of a run that I had worked through already. Within minutes he had 3 feisty Cutthroat on the bank and he implored me to try swinging the single-hander for these eager trout.

I obliged and began to catch Cutthroat almost immediately. After observing October Caddis in the bellies of our catch we switched to an October Caddis pupae pattern and I made three casts which resulted in hook ups each time. Mid swing on my fourth cast, I had another strike which felt similar to every Cutthroat that I had landed. But after the strike, something was different. This fish was taking line!

Odd I thought... until it rolled. 

"Steelhead! It's a Steelhead," Mike hollered. 

He then told me that the rod was rigged with 5x tippet (5.3lb Stroft Mono to be exact) on the end of the line as there are few Steelhead in the river at this point. We were out-gunned for sure. 

I was in for a heck of a battle... It took nearly 10 minutes and overcoming some serious self doubt to land the 27" Steelhead. When Mike was able to net the fish on the first attempt, I was whooping and hollering in absolute joy on the bank. Our day in miserable weather had turned out to be better than I could've ever hoped for.

I had landed a Steelhead on a swung fly... on a single hander and 5x tippet no less! 

It was a day that I'll never forget... the weather, the education, the first Sea-Run on the fly, the laughter, and the best surprise that I've had in a long while. That Steelhead isn't the biggest that I've caught, but it sure holds a very special place in my mind. 

The lessons and experience that I took from my day fishing with Mike will hopefully lead me to more hookups in the season ahead. Besides, there always seems to be something to check-off on the fly fishing bucket list. Now that I've caught my first Steelhead on the swing, I need to get one on a two-hander!

If you're interested in fishing with Mike on the Cowlitz River (an extremely underrated spey fishery) check out the Lost Creek Fly Shop webpage here.

Late Summer Recap - The Skunk Continues

It's been an entire month with nary a post.

That's not good in the blogosphere!

Yikes. Work has kept me on the run and with a lack of good results from my few fly trips, I suppose I've been a bit embarrassed to post about getting skunked.

Speaking of getting skunked... it's getting old!

Sure, I've knocked the crap outta steelhead and pink salmon this year on friend's boats fishing gear, but it's been a rough go on the spey rod. I did get into some Pinks on the fly last week on the Skagit which was pretty fun despite the fish looking like zombies (I think zombies would smell better though). I'm still waiting on that big tug from a Summer-head though...

When I think about it, I'm fairly certain that I've hit the 7,500 cast mark with nary a good hookup to show for it. I've fished the right water, the right bugs, and anymore it seems like I'm fishing the "right" way. Hell, I've even fished two times with guides and I'm still sitting on an 0-fer. The temptation to get a bait rod is constantly in the back of my mind but I haven't caved... yet.

Time to get back on the horse, rig up the long rod, and keep grinding.

With it being the "other" busy season for my job I'll likely only get out a few more times until November but the Deschutes is calling my name and I think I'll have to go for a visit tomorrow.

Thankfully there are lots of trout in the Deschutes. It makes you feel good to know that you won't get completely shut out. If there's one thing I can catch, it is whitefish trout.

Get out there and make your own adventures... be they fish-less or not.

Oh Canada!

Vacation... in my mind, that should mean fishing trip. And I used a few days of time off to head north for what proved to be an amazing fishing (not catching of course) trip. A friend picked me up from a work event in Bellingham and off to the border we went!

It's been a very long time since I've visited Canada and I was excited to see just how quick and easy my enhanced ID would be at the border. With minimal lines, we were asked a few questions and soon enough we were in beautiful British Columbia. Just a few hours later we found ourselves pulling off the Sea to Sky highway in scenic Squamish, BC. A beer and a round of Poutine at a local pub was a nice welcome for us. After the "refuel" we checked into our hotel and then geared up for some tributary fishing in the area.

We only had about 5 hours to fish on our first day in town and we made the most of it. After driving a mere 15 minutes from our hotel, we set up on a pretty obvious run off a very obvious pull out. Other fisherman were milling around and I was certain that this was not as remote nor unique a fishery as we had originally conjured. Nevertheless, my friend was hooked up within 10 minutes of getting his waders wet! A 20"+ Bull Trout came to the shore after a rather mundane fight and we thought we were in for days of fast and furious action.

Not so fast! 

We didn't touch a fish the rest of the day on our tributary exploration though we certainly put some effort into it. After a short night's sleep we headed upriver to fish the mainstem of the Squamish system. Much of the river is not fishable due to Tribal lands and we had to run nearly 30 miles up the river before finding open water... This water is not your average fishery. 

This is BIG water. Braided and natural, the river changes course every year during runoff. Your favorite run is often times gone the next year and this is evident in the log jams and old riverbeds that litter the banks and islands of the upper river. Despite it's complexity, seeing a river in a truly natural state is almost as amazing as catching your first Steelhead. 

Working our first nice run of the day I experienced a pretty solid take. In typical Skinny Waders fashion, I flubbed it up. Wham... another tug... instead of letting the fish take more, I turned the rod in towards shore and tried to set... a good sized splash and loss of tension and there was nothing attached. I can't confirm what species it was, but I sure felt pumped to feel a tug, and pissed that I messed the whole deal up. 

We fished on, with a break to go back into town and get more medicine (I was fishing with a NASTY cold) and beer. The beer up north was not only 40% more expensive but it was also a far cry in quality from the delicious beer found here in Oregon and Washington. Thankfully the medicine was better than the stuff stateside and it was much more reasonable. I'll call that a wash for this trip. 

After our daily refuel we drove back upriver and crossed channels onto island after island. These gravel islands were crisscrossed by washed down timber, piled high upon the banks. These timber graveyards are beautiful but also very dangerous. Climbing over the wrong piece can result in some serious injuries should it splinter or break. It was slow going as we methodically worked run after run of perfect swing water.

The scenery on the river made the day rewarding, as did the casting practice. We felt like we worked the water well and we left the river that night eager to meet up with our guides on the lower river the next morning.

Our guided adventure started innocently enough at the local Tim Hortons Donut Shop. I was in heaven eating industrial donuts that conjured up my long lost memories of Dunkin Donuts in Gresham. After slamming down some delicious donuts and downing some crap coffee, we met our guides Yos Gladstone and Tommy Thomson of Chromer Sport Fishing. 

Two men to a Watermaster raft, we took off down a tributary river starting our fishing day at a beautiful confluence spot on the lower mainstem. This water was incredible... merely 8 kilometers from the salt and less than that to the town of Squamish, we were in Steelhead nirvana. The only sad part was the lack of fish. You see, the system averages just 1,500 fish back per year with the prime issues in the watershed being headwater logging and gill netting. It's a shame because as a whole, their habitat looked much better than rivers I've seen in the lower 48 and they didn't have hatchery steelhead to compete with their wild stock fish. 

Undeterred by long odds, Yos and Tommy put us on run after run of the most prime water I've ever seen. These runs would've been overlooked by most anglers and they sure were hard to reach, but they all swung beautifully. 

Yos took my casting, which had already greatly improved over the past 3 months, and he helped me bring it to the next level. I've never felt more confident behind the spey rod as I was throwing bombs to 80 feet and feeling great about it. We fished hard and we fished a longer than average day as we stayed on the water for over 11 hours! Our lunch break consisted of cold pizza and warm beers (whoops!) during a quick break between runs... we just wanted to fish! 

Yos (the owner of Chromer) and Tommy are two of the most down to earth guides I've ever had the pleasure of spending time with. I admit that I've never fished with a crappy fly guide, but they went above and beyond my previous guided experiences. It was like fishing with guys that you've known forever... Chromer offers trips in all of the best watersheds in British Columbia and if you want to fish in BC, you'd be crazy to book your trip with anybody else! 

The guys kept us in the right mindset, and if it was any other person coaching me I'm not sure if I wouldn't have started to get down on the situation. Truth is, I was fishing better than ever and there was nothing more that we could've done to get into fish. We hit the river in low but prime shape, during the typical peak of their spring Steelhead run, and we fished the best and least pressured runs on the river. I guess it was just another dose of Steelhead reality.

Candid camera... the best skunking I've ever had! Photo by Yos Gladstone

After getting off the river and grabbing a good bit of pub food (a strange theme during this trip), we hit the rack. I've never fished that hard, nor been that tired after a day on the water. Despite being skunked again, it was strangely rewarding. Beautiful scenery, great water, and fantastic company!

The next day we hit the lower river for a few hours of DIY prospecting with no love. After fueling up with crappy liter rate gas, we grabbed some more Tim Hortons to-go and made for the border. Seven hours later I found myself back at home, skunked but feeling more alive then ever.

Oh Canada. You were great. I can't wait to fish you again... and eat your donuts!

Let the Preparations Begin...

It's almost here... my first trip north of the border in well over a decade.

The hotel is booked, my enhanced "border-crossing" drivers license has been procured, the guide has confirmed our date, and I've become a sort of Wiki expert on our target watershed and town.

Steelhead are on my brain... constantly.

The idea of a fresh-from-the-salt wild Steelhead grabbing my newly tied Prawn pattern and screaming down river has me absolutely rocked with excitement.

The river we will be fishing is BIG water... I've been practicing by fishing some of our larger rivers nearby and chucking heavy tips and bugs.

My fly box is getting stocked up as I spend hours on the vise after most work days. Prawn patterns, intruders, marabou tubes...

It makes me wonder if spending so much time and money on materials would be better spent on buying commercially tied spey patterns, but the enjoyment of creating something keeps me coming back...

It's time for bed now, but rest assured I will be dreaming of my line coming tight on the lower river in BC. A vicious grab, then head shakes, and a brutal run. My Hardy screaming along with me as I run downriver, whatever happens next be damned, I just want that grab.

Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks.

Gravel Jail...

Nothing like a crazy work week to get the "I need to fish" sentiment roiling. Heck, I don't need work to be crazy to make me want to fish badly, but it sure does amplify the thought process.

Recently, I was fortunate enough to spend a few hours of my day on the water before work meetings in the evening. After a 70+ hour work week, it was a welcome respite.

The river in question is on the South Olympic Peninsula and last time I fished it, we hooked and landed Steelhead within minutes of hitting the water... on the fly of course!

This time, we were being "guided" by a local friend who took us in his sled to several different runs. These runs were prime water, each with pocket-like stretches, glade like runs, and structure that screamed metalheads are here...

The whole set up was dynamite... except that the money water was not so productive that day. As my friends worked up and down river from me with gear rigs, I swung to my hearts content through the run... over and over again. Switching out flies, tips, methods, etc. No dice. I'm fairly certain that even me, a spey novice, would have hooked a fish should they have been in the hole that I was fishing.

My friends eventually came back to pick me up and take me back to the launching point. They, of course, had a fresh hatchery hen to show for their efforts as well as a few other hook ups. Five hours of effort for me landed me nothing but time spent on the "gravel jail." I could've at least used a beer or a snack, but instead it was a another mental test of sorts. Something that I realize most spey fisherman experience during the course of their "education."

Further hoping that all this casting/practice/patience and drinking will eventually pay off.I'm thinking that I'm about due...

Take Your Brother Fishing Day...

Okay. So lately, life has been crazy.

I think I've traveled more for work in the past month than I did all summer while exploring western Montana.

I needed a break. And so did my brother.

We used to fish together as kids and teenagers. Canyon Creek trout, Battle Ground lake exploration, and even some random trips up the the North Fork Lewis River to attempt to catch steelhead from shore.

Today, we floated a local river instead... my brother held a fishing rod for the first time in nearly a decade. I prospected with nymphs, the spey rod, and even had some fun with a spinning rod again. The fishing was good early, but the catching was poor...

And then this happened.

My brother hooked his first steelhead. And right from the start, we could tell that it was special.

The fish took run after run. My brother took his time though, listened to the sound advice of our fishing partner, and after nearly ten minutes we had the fish to shore.

Well into the teens as far as weight goes, this native Winter Steelhead is the fish of a lifetime for many. But for my brother, it's just his first. We told him that this fish is as good as it gets. After taking a few respectful pictures, the fish was ready to go. Fully recovered from the long fight, it darted back to its holding spot, hopefully destined to spawn another generation of impressive native Steelhead.

That same day, I hooked and lost a nice chromer, but I left the river full of joy. Seeing him fight and land, then release such a special fish means more than catching my own. At least that's how I see it.

Now to get him tuned to fishing on the fly...

Dirty Gear Hucking...

Thousands of spey casts this winter have produced nary a legitimate tug, let alone a fish to hand.

My spey casting has gone from awful to okay, and my knowledge of the swing game is limited... the odds are stacked against me and all I want is to catch a Winter Steelhead. Truth is, I had never caught one up until this week.

In the past month, taking my friends to different locales has gotten them into fish and left me, well... perplexed, frustrated, and fish-less. 

That all changed this past week.

First cast. Spinning rod. And an "egg pattern." Bobber. Down.

I feel dirty, but I just don't care. Because this hatchery brat tasted good.

28 years in and I finally got my Winter Steelhead. Now that it's off the list, I'll just have to further dedicate myself to getting one on the swing... 

Life on the Road: The Snake River

My new job has many perks...

I get to meet many "fishy" people.
I get to talk fishing with said people.
I work for an organization that does things the right way and is making a difference for the fish.
I drive all over the great state of Washington.

One place that my job does not (yet anyways) take me is Clarkston, Washington. I figured a trip to Pasco on a Friday was close enough though, so I made the drive through "deer alley" to the Lewiston-Clarkston area where I met up with a jump shooting fly angler that goes by the name of Ryan.

Ryan and I have known each other for some time but we hadn't hit the water together. Thankfully that changed as Ryan showed me the ropes on the Snake River.

We had originally planned on fishing the Grande Ronde but sub-freezing temperatures had turned it into a Slurpee of sorts. The weather was brutal as we wandered up and down the Snake, chipping ice out of our guides, and taking full advantage of hand warmers and layers of fleece.

We both experienced a few "bumps" and even saw a fish working the surface (?!?) but neither of us hooked up that day.

Instead, I caught a cold, and a long drive back to Portland. But the experience of big, gorgeous water, and time spent with a friend was well worth it.

Maybe that first steelhead on the spey will come next week, on another new river, in another beautiful corner of Washington.

SW Washington Gold...

It was an absolutely frigid morning in Southwest Washington today.

A rare cool, and dry weather spell has dropped rivers to early fall levels and my buddy Nate Hall and I had to go wet a line for a bit.

Due to life's important responsibilities (namely Nate having to work) we only had a few hours to fish, but I'm glad that we both got our butts to the river this morning...

Because this happened:

After a good half hour of working a run, we decided to head upstream until we hit a private property line. Nate offered for me to fish through the run first but I declined (bad move)!

After a few casts, I hear an "oh $@*#" and turn to see a boil and Nate's rod getting worked... after several tense minutes and a walk/scamper nearly 150 yards downstream we had this beauty of a native Winter Steelhead to shore.

It was Nate's biggest winter Steelhead ever (I'd guess length at 32"-34") and it was a toad. I don't know about weight (he was thinking around 15 lbs) but I know it was something special. I especially love how Nate got it on one of his own personal ties.

We fished on this morning, still high on the moment of landing that special fish, but hoping that we'd at least hook up with another piece of anadromous gold. We explored new runs, got frustrated by lack of access in others, and even tried a new stretch of water, but we didn't move another fish.

Despite the personal skunking (not unusual for me when chasing these anadromous ghosts) I took away a few things from today's experience:
1. Fishing with friends, and seeing them hook into a fish so special as a native Steelhead is worth nearly as much to me as catching my own.
2. I need to fish more... my spey cast is regressing lately.
3. Repeat #2.
4. We need to make sure the WDFW Commission follows Oregon and moves to take gill nets off the Columbia River mainstream. Fish like this would NOT make it through the gill nets currently used on the Columbia. 

Watching that beautiful fish swim away just deepened my desire to get this spey casting thing down and to hook up with a winter fish. It will happen... it's just a matter of when!

This fish alone is a good argument against gill nets in the Columbia River mainstream.

Swinging before the great flood...

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day!

Last week I was able to get out to the Klickitat for a day on the water with my Dad. He's never fly fished for steelhead, nor spey cast before. I'm still a true spey rookie but with each trip, I feel that my casting improves.

On the Klickitat, we braved cool temperatures and light rainfall fishing in the Canyon and even exploring some of the river above Leidl campground. It was surreal, swinging in the fog covered flats, watching salmon completing their life cycle in the tail outs, and driving my numerous wild turkey.

No steelhead to hand (surprise, surprise as my Dad nymphed up an eager whitefish), but we did beat the downpour by a few hours. Upon leaving the river, the rains started in earnest, blowing out the Klickitat by the middle of the next day. Who can complain about spending time on beautiful water with your old man and a beer though? I sure wont!

Back to bench, tying, and waiting for the next time on the water. Soon enough, I will connect with a steelhead on the swing...

In Search of Grey Ghosts

Steelheading is not a game of constant fish-catching action.

I get that. You get that. Etc.

That being said, progress is being made.

A tasty tailout on a local stream... no Grey Ghosts in sight though.

I'm simply trying to spend more time on the water when conditions are good. Sure, it's between seasons here in SW Washington but you can't catch steel without having a line in the water.

So I find myself out on local waters a few times a week, swinging proven patterns, in tasty looking water, hoping that a grey ghost decides to greet me with a feisty tug. Soon enough, it will happen.

Hopefully that tug will come tomorrow on the Klickitat... I'm pretty certain my one thousandth cast is near!

First Fish on the Spey...

You read it right. I hooked up with fish (read multiple!) on the spey rod for the first time.

In fact, I did the old "hook to mouth" move two times this morning on the 'lama. Heck, the first take on the swung Silvey's Extractor pattern was vicious. Head shakes, a nice flash in the water, line flying off the reel across the river, then nothing. Of course!

Working down the run, I hooked up again. This time, I saw the culprit and he was not exactly pretty. One of those "swimming dead" Chinooks decided to take my fly and he made his presence known with a jump, and several rolls as I landed him. Not yet a moldy mess, but darker than my black SUV, the morbid fish actually "ate" my fly. I figured foul hooked, but I guessed wrong.

After unhooking the nearly dead, and shockingly unclipped (read wild) Chinook, I watched him swim away. First landed fish on the swing/spey. First Chinook (ever), and first salmon on the fly. It wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but I cannot complain.

The rest of my day was spent moving from hole to hole (Red Barn, Weber's, Beginners, The S-Curves, etc) with only practice casting gained. But hey, I can now Perry Poke decently well, and my Double Spey continues to develop. Good stuff out on the 'lama.

Here's to hoping that some Steel will greet me on my next day spent swinging.

Two Handed Fishing For Steelhead

Okay. I'm a rookie. Let's get that out of the way.

I've been a "serious" fly fisher for a year and a half now, and chasing Steelhead is my latest obsession.

Anyone who's fly fished for Steelhead knows that it's an ultimate challenge of sorts. Unless you're headed north to rivers that are packed to the gills with big, naive Steelhead, you are in for some serious torture.

The fish of a 1,000 casts is what they call Steelhead. And for that reason (among others... logistics being one!) spey (or two handed rod) is a great way to fish for these elusive creatures.

I gave in and recently picked up a used spey rod for a steal of a deal. It's not the fanciest of sticks out there, nor is the operator terribly skilled with it (yet) but it's cause for excitement nonetheless.

The lingo of this new style of fishing is like Swedish to me. I can't really understand it. Scandi? Skagit? T-14? Perry Poke? 510 or 540 grains? Volvo or Saab?! Help!?!?!

I've been scouring my local SW Washington rivers in search of Steelhead (and anything else that may bite my fly) for the past few weeks now, trying to figure out the nuances of the double spey, snake roll, and snap T casts. Let's just say, it's been a trying process. One cast, I rip it 70 feet on target... the next, a putrid mess that travels 40 feet. Frustration!

Prospecting on the upper Kalama.

Recently, I was able to share the water with a new fishing friend who's also begun the process of chasing steel on the spey rod. He's a few steps ahead of me though, and I can't begin to tell you how nice it is to actually watch people who kind of know what they're doing fish. Monkey see, monkey do... well, at least I try to make it happen.

On the last day that I was out we managed to land a dead Chinook salmon (fresh fish...), I caught a Whitey on my nymph rod (of course), and I did have a big time take down on a bobber rig. This game is going to be frustrating but I'll figure it out.

To anyone who cares to join me, I'll be out on my local rivers spey casting regularly. Sure, it's in-between seasons for the novice two handed fly fisherman like me, but you can't catch fish by sitting on the couch. And you sure as heck can't work on your cast from the couch either!

Snag Fest 2K12 Has Begun...

The title says it all.

Fall Chinook are arriving in area rivers and the snaggers are out in force.

These folks put lead, a corkie, and a treble hook on their rods and toss them out into pools where Chinook gather up. The lowlifes that fish this way "rip" their "bait" back hoping to "floss" a fish in the mouth. Well, at least they say that they are trying to get the fish in the mouth. Or that they didn't know the rules? Or perhaps they've never fished here before? Regardless of their piss-poor excuses, fishing in this manner is not only illegal in 99% of cases, but it's also unethical.

It was a sad reminder of what I was missing while fishing for trout in Eastern Washington and Montana. While driving along the Kalama River today, trying to scope out some future Steelheading water I ran into a sad, familiar sight. A snag fest at the Modrow bridge hole. I know it happens on all the local waterways (Washougal, Lewis, etc) but it is still a depressing sight in the least.

I watched with my young cousin today as several Chinook were ripped from the pool that they held in by an army of snaggers and were unceremoniously bonked and harvested. The scene was a lawbreaking "shit show" of sorts. Anti-snagging restrictions on the Kalama make harvests like these illegal, and the hatchery technicians who were also observing the behavior called in WDFW enforcement to help take care of the matter.

Snaggers at work. These low life characters can be found on a myriad of local waters. 

I know that some would argue that the fish aren't worth much (Tule Chinook are not exactly quality table fare...) but fishing like a bonehead doesn't make harvesting them okay. Where is the fun in trying to snag a fish? I'm sorry, I just don't get it. Then again, I also don't use meth...

The simple truth is this. When you see activity like this, whether fishing, driving over a bridge on a local river, or whatever, REPORT IT. The only way that this activity slows down is if more citizens report the poachers/snaggers and do something about it.

The easiest, most anonymous way to report poachers. License plate numbers also help!

My experience today reminds me why I fly fish. I don't enjoy combat fishing, nor do I care to catch fish for the sole purpose of killing them for eggs (very common among the snaggers). Simply put, I try to respect every fish I catch. That doesn't mean that I wont bonk a hatchery brat when I can, but it does mean that I'll catch my fish in a legal manner. People that rip and snag aren't fisherman, they're poachers.

Report poachers. Be friendly and remind them of rules if you want to, but don't try to stop them personally. WDFW Enforcement, however understaffed they may be, are much more effective in stopping criminal acts. 

The best part of our trip to the Kalama today occurred on the drive back downriver from visiting the Kalama's fly fishing only "Holy Waters." We saw a WDFW Enforcement truck headed up to the hole where poaching had been occurring the hour before. 

My cousin asked me, "What's the police man going to do?"

I replied, "He's going to stop those snaggers and write some tickets."

But regrettably, those people will be back at the same hole again tomorrow, doing the same thing. 

Make a difference and keep the heat on poachers. Continued harassment of them means less harassment of the fish.

Dial 911 to report poaching in progress. Call 1-877-933-9847 for other poaching violations. Simply report what you see, where the violation is occurring, the time of the offense, and any other pertinent information (suspect vehicle info, etc). 

First Steel... Uh Oh!

I've long joked that should I get into the Steelhead fishing game, my life would be effectively over. My wife would probably leave me, my dog would disown me, I'd be unemployed, etc.

Well, I've jumped into the game and only the last of my concerns is true (though I'm hoping to hear back about that situation in the very near future).

Let's preface this whole experience.

One. I've never caught a Steelhead. The guy who's spent nearly 75+ days on the water fishing for them as a kid (terminal tackle) never friggin' caught Steelhead. A jack salmon... yes. A crazy Steelhead... no.

Two. I've never truly fly fished for Steelhead and I have a 7 WT custom rod built on a Winston BIIX blank that needed to get some work in.

Enter Sean Visintainer of Silver Bow Fly Shop in Spokane. Sean, knowing that I moved back to the Portland area last week, told me that he may be down in the Gorge fishing the Klickitat for the first time. We kept in touch and when he asked if I wanted to fish with him this week, I jumped on the opportunity.

Meeting this Tuesday on the Klickitat, Sean and I had a quick rendezvous with Tom Larimer of Larimer Outfitters (the fishiest Steelhead dude this side of anywhere) who gave us a rundown of where to fish, what to fish, and how to do it.

It was nice having both Sean and Tom by my side as I hooked my first Steelhead from the bank early Tuesday afternoon. The fish put some real work into my Winston flying across the river doing several acrobatics. Tom calmed me down (I've never been more excited...) and helped me tail and land the native Steelhead which was estimated at 8-9 lbs. After thanking the fish, and Tom for his advice and help, Sean and I fished through the evening before setting up camp.

Tom Larimer helping me land my first Steelhead.

The next day, we floated the Canyon stretch of the Klickitat. I got an impromptu Spey lesson from Sean and nymphed from the boat with my Winston and from the shore with an Echo Switch setup. It definitely took some getting used to but I can see myself rocking a two-hander soon. Sean was experimenting with centerpins and swinging some tasty runs in what is one of the more beautiful river canyons that I've ever seen.

Gorgeous scenery. 

Nearing the final third of the float with no solid takes, we worked some very small buckets and pockets out of the boat. Bingo... I hooked up with a very hot hatchery fish that took us downriver, and did some acrobatics before coming to the net. A sweet little buck (7 lbs) was the reward of the day.

First Hatchery Steelhead. 

My final day on the Klick was bittersweet. Potential work opportunities and the need to still get my stuff in order after moving kept me from staying an extra day out on the water.

Sean and I hit the canyon again and it was wonderful. While fishing was slow to start, we saw a Black bear busting it up a hill side, and despite more fishing pressure (3 boats in front of us), we hooked two fish.

The first was a PIG native Steelhead. The fish jumped out of the air higher than I ever thought possible and Sean estimated the fish as 15 lbs. The fight was tense as we beached the boat and worked down the shoreline. I wanted this fish. It didn't want to cooperate... after a good fight, the line went slack and the fish got away. My 7 wt singlehander got worked. It was like bringing a knife to a gun fight.

I was bummed... really bummed. I've never hooked a fish like that, and to lose it after seeing it... well, it sucked. It's part of the game though, and I play it knowing the consequences.

But redemption was a few bends away. Once again, a tiny pocket proved fortuitous for us. I hooked up another hot fish. Unlike the other Steelhead we hooked, this guy ran upstream on us through heavy water. Next thing you know, I'm halfway through my backing thinking "here we go again."

But the fish was turned just in time, Sean expertly guided me through the fight, and we landed a gorgeous, colored up Native buck Steelhead. I've never been more excited about a fish. The first was great, but this fish was something special.

Admiring the catch of the trip. 

After removing our hook (and someone else's that this guy had lodged into his craw) and taking a few respectful photos we released him to swim away and hopefully fulfill his purpose.

Native Summer Steelhead. 

Despite Sean being a rookie on the Klick (though a Steelhead master in his own right!) we got the job done. Larimer's knowledge that he imparted on us certainly helped, and it was a weekend that I'll never forget.

I know that Steelheading is typically about putting in long hours, many casts, and getting a few, very significant rewards. I suppose that in a sense, I've put in my hours (albeit on gear), and this week was meant to happen. And with Steelhead now on my brain, all I can say is watch out. This guy is now officially in the game.

Small endorsement here... fish with Sean Visintainer. Great guy, great shop owner, and a ton of fun to fish with. www.silverbowflyshop.com (Spokane River, Grande Ronde, N. Idaho Cutthroat Rivers, etc)

Also... Tom Larimer of Larimer Outfitters. www.larimeroutfitters.com (Deschutes, Clackamas, and Hood River)