Stress Medication...

I found a new remedy for stress, brought on by work, steelhead skunkings, etc...

It's called private trout water. And while it may not be the most scenic, natural, or ideal fishing venue, it sure as heck made me feel better.

This one kicked my ass on the 5 wt.

Back to the steelhead grind tomorrow... here's to hoping I catch one as big as that dang pond trout.

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 Importance of a Weekly Retreat

Does life have you stressed? 

Get out! Fish!

That my friends is some very simple, but accurate wisdom. 

Lately, I've found myself out on the water once a week. A far cry from three days of fishing trout in Spokane, but the opportunities are fewer and far between for trout around the 'Couv. 

With nearby rivers either blown out, or nearly devoid of anadromous fish, I'm getting impatient. I keep feeling like I need a fix. My past few trips to the Cowlitz produced mixed results (mostly great casting practice) but no true prize. I need that tug on the end of my line... I'm a damn junkie, and I admit it. 

On the way to Merrill. A gorgeous, albeit cold, day!

This week, my fix took place at Merrill Lake. I hit the water around noon and as soon as I launched my float tube, I realized I had forgotten my stripping apron at home. Genius! Oh well, I had a few hours to fish before hopefully meeting up with Mike Gamby, an original Early Morning Freestone Pimp (much like Jay Johnson, my early fly fishing mentor). 

I found feisty Coastal Cutthroat all around the lake that day, and despite the smaller size of many of the fish (12" average), I felt elated to get some good mojo back. Add the fact that these were my first lacustrine Coastal Cutts, and I was quite happy with the day.

Mike and his friend Chad showed up later and we worked the shoreline, replete with downed logs and a raised water level in search of fish. Mike nailed several Cutts and I took back to my tube for a few more fish before the sun set behind the hills.

I would post pictures of the day's catch and scenery but in typical fashion, I lost a piece of gear on the water. Yes, for the second time in five months, I lost my camera. Remember that missing stripping apron? Setting my camera in my lap in lieu of the apron was a terrible idea... slipped right out of my lap and into the drink. Perhaps the floating attachment would've been a good idea when fishing a lake. But alas, a sweet Fuji waterproof camera is sitting at the bottom of the lake and there's nothing I can do about it. 

The day was an overall success (though I'd trade the many cutthroat caught for my camera back!). It was nice to fish with some new friends and explore water that I hadn't touched before. Heck, it was nice to know that I had still had some skills on a lake! But in this season of transition, I find myself checking water levels, hatchery escapement reports, and weather patterns. While I'll never be over trout, it's almost time for winter steelhead and this guy is going to be relentlessly chasing them.

A real fly fishing junkie can never get enough.

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.

Lost in an Ancient Place...

Gorgeous scenery.

No other person on the trail.

Feeling immersed in an ancient place.

Oh. And wild trout, eager to hit a Norm Wood's Special.

While I haven't found trophy trout water nearby, I have found some beautiful places to cast a line. If only I had a 2 wt!

Here's to hoping for the rain to come so I can chase some fresh Steel.

Therapy...

I need it. I need to get away from the crowds, the job (which I'm thankful to now have), and from the prison that monotony has become.

Learning to spey cast has been a fun challenge. Calling in snaggers has become repetitive and depressing. It's time to get out and make something happen.

Tomorrow, I'll explore new stretches of water, in search of whatever is daring enough to strike my fly.

Report to come.

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!

Cutthroat, Dry Flies, and Bats...

I'm moving away from Spokane soon. The end of August to be exact. It will be bittersweet... I'll miss the Spokane River, my fishing companions, co-workers, and the proximity to Montana. I won't miss the crazy tweaked out meth addicts, the terrible roads and drivers, nor will I miss the awful economy. I guess I'll miss the fishing most of all though...

That lead me to this week's short fishing trip, originally planned for a two-day trip on the St. Joe River in North Idaho. The Joe is a tributary to Lake Coeur d'Alene and is renowned for its Westslope Cutthroat fishing. I hadn't been on the Joe since last September and sunny skies greeted my fishing partner and I when we arrived on the river this past Wednesday.

This 18" Cutt fell for a Stonefly Nymph. Caught by Dustin Bise. 

The intense heat and cloudless day was not great for hatches (sparse PMDs, Golden Stones, and Caddis) but fish were still active. Combining nymphing slots and buckets and throwing attractor dries, we quickly got into fish. In fact, our first fish of the day was actually one of two on the same cast. Yes, my first one-man double... a 16" Cutt on the stonefly and a 6" Cutt on the Prince dropper. The day was looking solid until an incident on the next hole.

Two Fish = Win! 

While I was hiking down a trail to a boulder that created a huge eddy, I reached forward to brace myself (going downhill) on an old tree stump. I looked at the stump before I reached for it, and saw nothing unusual. As soon as my hand touched the top of the stump (and my fingers reached over the edge of it) I felt a sharp prick and heard an odd screeching noise. A small creature of some sort fell to the ground and started crawling around while I quickly jumped down to the river bank, scared to death. I looked at my finger and saw two small puncture wounds (practically superficial) and looked on the trail to see a small bat (silver haired bat) hissing/screeching at me.

Now, I was scared, didn't know what to do, and in hindsight I should've captured and killed the little bastard, but instead I went to the river, got out my soap and began washing the wound out continually. We continued to fish for the rest of the evening and set up camp that night. I figured/thought that rabies took some time to set in and the bite looked mild enough that I'd be fine if I waited till the following day to trek back to Spokane.

We fished through the night, netting 20 fish between the two of us, mostly Cutthroat with a few Whitefish thrown in for varieties sakes. The following morning, we fished for a few hours working fish on dries and nymphs in the nicer buckets on the river. Even a big pool produced fish for us, which was shocking considering how much pressure these fish had seen recently.

Great Cutthroat from the "Bat Hole."

It turned out to be a near 40 fish trip for us, which is phenomenal considering the chatter from most anglers on the river was that fishing was terribly slow.

Nice Cutthroat following release.

Wrapping up early, we drove back to Spokane where I went immediately to the hospital. It was determined that I needed to get a Post-Exposure Rabies treatment (series of 5 shots, plus an EXTREMELY expensive anti-body shot to start off with)... the bummer is that insurance will barely cover any of it (read none... just adjustments... they say it's not a preventative thing but rather an injection) and the average bill for people bitten by bats who need the treatment is $10,000. No joke. In fact, that first day I had 11 shots at the Hospital including 6 of the anti-body into my fingertip... painful freaking stuff.

So a trip that went from being a cheap, camping overnight for Cutties, turned into the most expensive and frustrating ordeal of my life (wait... maybe college takes that title).

I won't be posting too many fishing reports in the near future as medical appointments, work, and packing for our move will occupy most of our time. I do have a float planned for next week on the Spokane and will have a full run-down on that.

So next time you're out fishing/hiking/exploring in North Idaho, be aware of bats and stay the #%#@ away from them. They do have an important role in our ecosystem but they sure can be expensive and possibly deadly.

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. 

Where do you want to fish this summer?

A simple question perhaps, but what realistic waters do you wish to fish?

I have a pretty solid, if not standard list. No, I wont fish them all, but I can dream right?

- The Upper Deschutes, Hosmer Lake, and Todd Lake in Oregon.
- The Kalama and Grande Ronde for Summer Steelhead.
- The Lower Yakima for Smallies.
- The Kettle River and the Upper Columbia for Redband Trout.
- The Missouri and Dearborn (though Fall may win out on that trip).
- The Blackfoot/Rock Creek/Bitterroot (Should be knocking some of these out this week).
- The Kootenai and Yaak.
- Cutthroat on the St. Joe.

That's my list for now. Where do you plan to fish coming up? Leave a comment and let me know!

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.

Anniversary in Montana

This past Tuesday was a very special day for myself and my wife Ashley. Not only was it the date of my last class/test of my undergraduate career(!) but it was also our second wedding anniversary. What would be more romantic than a quick round trip to Missoula for a day of good food, sightseeing, and a bit of casting? I'm sure Ashley could find a few better options, but she gamely decided it would be a fun way to spend our special day.

The morning started off with a final exam at 8 AM in Cheney. After the test, I rushed home, loaded up the wife and spaniel and made our way out of town.

All the driver could think about was fishing... the passenger, not so much.

We made good time across the panhandle, my mind racing as to what fly patterns would trick fish in the short hour I had to fish on the way to Missoula. Rain fell intermittently through the pass, and the rivers we passed were absolutely raging. The creek that I had in mind (a tributary to the Clark Fork) would likely be running high, but I figured fish would love to hit a meaty Salmonfly pattern up top... Only a little ways further and we came upon this inconvenience...

Jack-knifed Semi on 2 lane interstate = Less time on the water.

Aside from the jack-knifed semi truck, what seemed like miles of endless construction and 45 MPH speed zones (very un-Montana...) made the trip towards Missoula stretch on. This all meant less time on the water for me. Ashley does not fish (yet) and I bribed here with the promise of a fine dining meal in Missoula after we fished and checked out the fly shops and bars in town. Being our anniversary, and my desire to keep the anniversaries coming for the long term, I would not break that deal!

We finally hit the creek, and raging it was. From what I'd heard from friends who fish this little known body of water, the water was running at double the typical flows. Rainbows, Cutthroat, Whitefish, and a few Bull Trout inhabit the stream and I was anxious to get fishing. So anxious that I pulled into the first spot at the first access point on the creek. 

She's moving...

I believe that this is a Green Drake nymph.

Golden Chubby Chernobyl

It only took 10 minutes of throwing my dry dropper rig (Salmonfly pattern w/ red CJ) to get a strike up top. A decent Cutthroat came and took a swipe at my fly and in my trigger happy excitement I missed the fish. This scenario played out another 5 times, though I did manage to hook up with 3 fish, all of which came unbuttoned. A Golden Stone Chubby Chernobyl attracted the most attention with one brute (at least 16") Cutthroat taking two stabs at my pattern only to get away without meeting my net. Despite my frustrations, my lovely wife (who has a Fine Arts degree), managed to take some great photos of the excursion before Missoula (and that promised dinner) beckoned. 

A spot that yielded countless strikes, and no hook ups. 

Mirrored water + Chubby Chernobyl... success

Beautiful water, with the fuel saving fishing machine (CR-V) across the stream. 

Beautiful water.

Despite getting blanked, I was beyond ecstatic to spend time on the water with my wife. She got to see, firsthand, what I love to do. I couldn't complain about having 8 strikes up top on dry flies in under an hour either... not too shabby at all. 

Oh, and the rest of the trip. It was fantastic. Wonderful meal at Scotty's Table in downtown Missoula. Lots of Big Sky Scape Goat Pale Ale, fantastic thunder and lightning storms to experience throughout the day, and my best friend along with me. Happy Anniversary indeed.

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. 

The Calm Before The Storm

Before I get too down and dirty with details, I'll disclose that I work at a very busy restaurant and I'm finishing up the last quarter of my Bachelors Degree. Did I mention that I'm married and the "house" husband in addition to the other "jobs" that I hold? Well, I am, and I can cook up a solid dinner, do laundry, and bust out term papers like it's nobody's business.

All work and no fun is not a recipe for happiness. My job is about to get crazy in the next few weeks (our busy season begins with the start of June) and finals are quickly approaching... all the signs pointed to a midweek retreat on the friendly currents of the North Fork of the Coeur d'Alene River for some Cutthroat action.

Meeting up with a good fishing buddy in CDA Idaho, we gassed up, got our morning coffee and headed to the river in my wade fishing transportation gem CR-V (30MPGs, no rod breakdown required when going between spots, and enough amenities to keep me happy). Sure, I had a class that afternoon, but with nothing due and not a single day missed all quarter, I let Senioritis get the best of me.

The CDA was on the drop (it looks like run-off came a bit earlier this year than in years past) and while still running relatively high and fast, there were fishy looking spots as soon as we hit the road. Sure enough, 8:00 AM, first spot, 3rd cast... fish on. It may have been a small little Cutthroat, but the strike on my self-tied Prince of Darkness pattern made my morning. The rest of the early hours were a bit of a bore...

My fishing partner got a pure Rainbow in the next spot (rare for being so far up the river!) which was attacked by something BIG in the pool while he fought it (Bull Trout? big Cutty? Hmm...) and I brought in another smallish (10" cutt). The spot would've been a whole lot better had I not fallen down a riverside embankment (nothing new) and bruised my palm up pretty nasty. My fishing partner took a spill and cut his thumb later on the same hole... curse? Perhaps...

Our next spot is a hole that I love in the summer but it produced with high flows for us. 10 AM, raining... Stoneflies up top? Why not!? I love catching fish on the dry in the AM.

We had to call it a day earlier than we would've liked as we had found a new $ hole around 2pm. My luck had picked up and it was a hookup per cast. Nothing like a little "Hook to Mouth" action to keep you on the river later than planned. At one point, it was 7 casts in a row with fish on in the same spot. The fish really liked the Prince of Darkness pattern, and it was only rivaled by a TB Golden Stone pattern. We lost a few nice Cutts but I landed one worthy of a streamside picture with my friend.

Wrist tattoos and Cutthroat trout. 

All in all, it was a 20 fish landed day for us, and a good one at that. The average fish size wasn't too terribly large (we lost a few legitimate 16" fish) but the action was consistent once the afternoon sun came out. As a relatively new fly tyer (started in January), I took great joy in the fact that my Prince of Darkness pattern (an Idylwilde pattern that I modified) was getting fish hooked like powerbait. 

My "Charlie Murphy" Prince of Darkness Nymph

The pattern is essentially the same as the Idylwilde pattern available in shops, but I modified the dubbing out (instead of plain black dubbing for the body, I've used Hareline Dubbin Peacock Black Ice Dub) to give it a bit more pop. This is a great searching pattern when the water is a bit off color.

Charlie Murphy Prince of Darkness recipe:

TMC 2457 (scud/pupa style hook) sizes 12-16

Black Tungsten Bead to Match Hook Size (2.4 or 2.8mm)

Black 8/0 UniThread

Ultrawire Silver size Brassie

Black + White Goose Biots

Mix of Hareline Dubbin STS Trilobal Black and Peacock Black Ice Dub

Hungarian Partridge tied in as throat

After my CDA trip, my free time is limited until the third week of June. I'm staring at 40 hour work weeks and finals with nary a day off to fish before Graduation. And of course river levels are dropping into PERFECT shape. Oh well... I guess I'll have to sneak in some bench time so I'm restocked and ready for that elusive day off.

My first crack at Green Drake nymphs

I've been working on Green Drake nymphs and am happy with my progress in experimenting with new materials and styles. We'll see if they fish well the next time I get out... whenever that is.