From The Ocean To My Backyard

If someone told me I had to walk 900 miles, scaling many cliffs, mountains, and hills, just to get some loving I would say they were crazy.  Some fish we respect for their fight, some for the difficulty of catching, some for their looks, some for the unique places they are caught, some for the ease of catching, and others because they are simply an amazing species.  Usually the fish we catch are a combination of such attributes.  Steelhead, or any anadromous fish for that matter, deserve their proper respect.  Beginning as a little smolt these fish travel all the way back to the ocean over waterfalls and multiple dams, passing countless predators, and all because something in their bones tells them to.  If I weren't willing to travel that far on foot for some sweet loving, I sure as heck wouldn't do it for some seafood.

After one to two years of swimming around in the salty blue, something tells these magnificent creatures it is time to return home.  In other words, it's business time.  Slowly they group together and work their way back upstream, across the same dams and waterfalls they passed when young, all the way back to the shallow headwaters they came from.  All this is done so the cycle can repeat itself.

These fish are a gift.  What they do and give is almost a selfless act.  So much of the ecosystems they reside in are blessed by their presence, life, and death.  They bring nutrients and sustenance to the waters by giving new life to their children and dying themselves.  It is quite a gift indeed.

"If our father had had his say, nobody who did not know how to fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching him."  Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

It is with a great respect that I choose to fish for steelhead.  Understanding their sacrifice makes the experience all the more worthwhile and special.  To respect a fish is to know the gift it is to you.

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I was beginning to think there would not be time to make a spring trip this season.  Various obligations threatened the idea, with school finals taking the forefront. It was either go later than I normally would or not at all.  Shane showed interest and so we made plans for a two-day excursion just after classes were out.

With Shane's little truck packed full of camping and fishing gear we set off around 11pm.  The plan was to arrive there around 2am and pass out in the car till dawn, then set up camp after a full day of fishing.  The amount of wildlife increased as we got closer to our destination. We arrived around 2am as expected.  After parking we couldn't help but throw on headlamps and scope out the water.  To our pleasant surprise we found a handful of fish hugging the bank as they worked their way upstream.  Shane threw on some crazy glow jig streamer I had handy and set to work.  He set into one and promptly broke off.  After putting on a large black streamer, and casting without any success we decided to get some sleep and put our energy into the next days fishing.

I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew Shane was telling me to get up.  I laughed as it was barely light outside.  He kicked the heater on and we wadered up while munching on poppyseed muffins.  It was C.O.L.D.  We beat the water and fought iced guides most of the day.  The four of five fish we saw the night before gave us a false impression about the amount of fish in the river still.

We moved around a lot.  The name of the game was searching and sightcasting.  Throughout the day we picked up one or two fish here and there.  By the end of the first day we managed to bring around a dozen fish to hand.

This hen was the first fish of the trip.  We had moved around to a few places that normally produce fish quite well, but with no success this time.  We found ourselves back to the first place we started, on our way back upriver, but on the opposite bank.  Shane had just worked upstream around the bend and was out of hearing. I launched my line out in the middle of the river, already having worked the bank.  Halfway through the drift the little indicator dunked and I set.  The steelie fought hard, and it felt great. The first fish of the trip was caught, landed, and photoed without a witness.  It felt good to get the skunkmonkey off my back.  Shane eventually made his way back and we fished the spot a bit more without any luck.  We then headed upriver to another hopeful spot.

The temperature had warmed to a comfortable level by then and we were no longer fighting ice on the guides, though the temperature was still on the verge of freezing.  On the second cast this beautiful male took.  Shane and I both thought the chances of there being another fish in the run were good so he took a swing at the same section.  Just as he was asking where the previous fish had taken I said "right there" as his indicator floated over the spot and tanked.  We both began laughing immediately as he set into another fish.

The net showed just how cold it was outside.  Funny how it seemed warm by this point in the day, compared to what it was all morning.

Shane got rid of his skunkmonkey and broke in the Loop XACT all in one time.

For someone who is unfamiliar with the area and pyrite, they might think they hit the jackpot. This "fools gold" is everywhere in the upper Salmon area.  Little flecks of gold-like substance flicker everywhere in the sandy places along the banks.

Shane making one of his characteristic faces.  He could give Jim Carrey a run for his money.

I have never fished for steelhead this late in the season, so it was quite a sight to behold when we first witnessed the smolt everywhere.  They were packed in the hundreds along certain sections of shoreline.  I watched them in awe as I thought of the journey they were just beginning, and that I may have the honor of catching one of those that I watched at a later date.

We kept working our way upriver, combing the water for any fishy places.  If there were redds, we would pass them and move on, though to be honest we probably only saw two during the whole trip.  The day continued with a fish here and another there.

Shane with a great one.  Most of the fish caught were wild.  I think only one was a hatchery fish.

The release.

The bluebird skies are deceiving when it comes to the real temperature.  The night we slept in the tent got as low as 9 degrees Fahrenheit   It was colder than we had anticipated, which made for a restless night.  Next time I'm bringing extra blankets for certain!

This was the last landed fish for the trip.  The second day we took our time, enjoyed the scenery, and didn't fish too hard.  We both hooked up with fish, but did not land any.  We were both so content with the previous days result that there was no need to push ourselves that hard, the trip had already been worth it.

This is a shot of a tree from the Galena Summit overlook.  The headwaters of the Salmon River can be seen from this spot, as well as a breathtaking view of the Sawtooth Mountains.

Though the trip was certainly later in the season than I would like to go, it was still remarkably enjoyable.  Shane always makes for great company, and the scenery is always fantastic.  It was a couple days well spent with a species I hold a great respect for.  I'm grateful they make the effort, and take the time, to come visit me in my backyard.

Steelhead: Play To Your Strengths

Steelheading in the fall with a single handed fly rod is tricky business, at least it is on the Salmon River in Idaho.  It can be done, but there are precious few places where it is productive.  The fact is, the fish are in deep/fast water that requires a very quick sink rate and the fish hug the bottom.  In the spring when the fish have moved up into the skinnier water there isn't any reason to use a casting setup.  Fly fishing during those times is often more productive anyway.  During the fall, when the the fish are much lower in the river, a casting setup tends to me more productive.  You can fish more places and get deep down to where the fish like to stay.  For this reason I have not been after steelhead in the fall for the past couple of years.  I prefer to fly fish for them.

Shane had expressed some interest in a fall trip and we were both out of classes for the holiday.  The steelhead taste much better in the fall than in the spring, and I have been craving some since the last fall trip (rarely keep them in the spring).  We decided to make one of those crazy (read exhausting) there-and-back-in-a-day trips.  These trips are tiring because it is about a 4 hour drive (one way) to some of the better fishing locations.

We set sail around 10:30pm Tuesday evening.  The plan was to sleep in the truck once we arrived and fish all of Thanksgiving eve.  The roads were nice and clear on the way up, if you do not include the many deer and elk we encountered.  We arrived at almost 2a.m.  Having discussed the idea on the way there, we decided to try a bit of night fishing.  It was relaxing casting in the still of the night under a beautiful starry sky.  After a couple hours and not so much as a bump, we decided to get some sleep.  We kicked the carseats back and hunkered down for a couple hours of rest.  What felt like minutes later we found ourselves getting out of the truck and rerigging our lines.

There are really only two basic rigs that I would consider my go-to setups when using a casting rod for steelies.  I use P-Line CXX 10lb mono, a small piece of pencil lead with a hole punched in it, two swivels (one with and one without a snap), small hot orange corkie, small black curly tailed grub, size 4 Gamakatsu octopus hooks, and pink or orange troutbeads (with toothpicks).  I have tried roe many times, but I have little confidence in it, though it works really well for other anglers.  Plus I prefer to avoid the mess and maintenance of bait if possible.  The setup I use the most is to put the corkie and small black curly tailed grub as the lead, then follow it with a single orange trout bead.  The other setup is just two trout beads.  The top I use a pink and the trailer I use the orange (4mm beads).

The preferred setup

After rigging up we started zinging casts out across the river.  It has so far been a warm winter, and this was evident as the rain clouds slowly worked their way through the canyon.  We were sopping wet within the first hour.  Not too long into our fishing I felt that indescribable steelhead take, and set hard.  Half of the time these takes turn out to be the river bottom, but this was no rock as the heavy throbbing headshakes immediately comfirmed.  I had forgotten how hard they fight in the fall.  After a 5ish minute battle, Shane scooped the net around this dandy of a hatchery buck.  The stress of potential skunk was gone, and I felt the freedom to just fish the rest of the day.  It's amazing how liberating and relaxing landing that first fish can be, especially when steelheading. 

We kept fishing that hole for a couple more hours.  Shane was still trying to get the feel.  It was his first time using anything but a fly rod for steelhead.  We only landed one other fish in that place.  It was a nice wild buck that fought hard.  After a little while longer and no other fish we decided to move upstream.

At our third location we both managed a bit smaller hatchery hen.  The cool thing about Shane's was that he picked his up on his fly rod!  After fishing this spot for a while with no luck, he said "I'm going to try nymphing.  It's what I have confidence in."  The lower section of the hole was pretty deep water and after fishing it for a while I suggested he try the top of the hole where it was shallower before the hole drops off.  He moved up there and after only a handful of casts in the riffles he yelled, "Chris!"  I threw down my rod, picked up the net, and ran up to him.  We netted the bright hen, and though it wasn't the biggest fish of the trip, it was the coolest because it was taken on the fly.  He kept at it for a while, but only managed a small sucker.  We finally decided to move again.  The rest of the day we did more scouting than fishing.

Finally, as dusk was slowly setting in, we stopped at the last fishing location for the trip.  After a few casts on the spinning rod, Shane went back to his fly rod.  I decided to stick with the casting and kept working the opposite bank.  A large snow storm started moving our direction.  Things had cooled down quite a bit and the rain had turned to snow.  It was looking about time to call it a day.  Shane had headed back to the truck to take his waders off and get warm.  I kept telling myself, "one more cast."  It's crazy how far we push ourselves for the things we love to do.  It was now just barely light enough to make out the dark silhouette of things.  I told myself (in honesty this time) that I was making the last cast.  I decided to rocket it over to the known snag of the run, on the other bank (I had already sacrificed one whole setup to it).  I thought to myself, "who cares if I break off, it will save me the time of cutting everything off!"  The line whizzed in the darkness and I heard that characteristic "plunk" in the water.  A few moments into the drift there was a heavy take!  I thought I had snagged a squaw fish or sucker, but seconds after this thought crossed my mind the beauty of a steelhead flew out of the water.  By it's silhouette against the river I could tell it was a respectable fish.  I hollered at Shane for some net help, but he was comfortably in the truck by this point and could not hear the yell.  I picked up the net and proceeded to do my best at netting in the dark.  I pulled the fish to the bank and scooped with the other arm.  It was done.  I was in shock.  Last casts like that don't happen often, but what a great way to end the day.  I was so surprised with the whole thing that I didn't think to get a picture, but it was just as big as the other two dandies from earlier in the day.  A thick and healthy hatchery hen.

We made our way home slowly as the snow was now everywhere.  It was a fun trip and a great way to kick off the Thanksgiving break.  Shane and I are already trying to make it work for a trip back.  We are trying to think of the best way to make it happen with our fly rods.  These last few weeks of school are the busiest, so we'll see, but here's hoping.

The Wild Buck from our first spot.

There is something to be said about confidence and fishing.  They are two interconnected concepts when it comes to the sport.  Rarely is success found when they are separated.  Building confidence in a new approach to fishing can be quite frustrating, but if we stick it out the rewards are fantastic.  The more areas a fisherman can become proficient in, the better angler they become all around.  Fish are fish, and they do not change their behavior according to whether we have a casting, ice, spey, spinning, or fly rod in our hand. They couldn't care less.  So as the angler we ought not to ignore or criticize other methods as long as they are sporting.  I say play to your strengths, but do not be afraid to strengthen your weaknesses through trial and practice.  Enjoy various methods of fishing, and you will be a better fisherman all around.  I think of Jeff Currier as an excellent example here.  That man can catch fish anywhere and everywhere with about any method.  He gets fish and loves catching them, and he.... GASP......ice fishes too!  How cool would it be if we were all that chill, pun intended.  Enough of the soap box, here's the scenery shot.

A gnarly fire ripped through this area.  It seems to have mostly taken the smaller shrubs and grass in these areas, though some trees did not make it.