Thursday, September 1, 2016
This month's waker was previewed in prior posts, but wanted to feature it here anyway. My friend Rick Fielder showed me the value of gold when I fished with him on the North Umpqua in late July. He proceeded to hook into a nice buck in the first run that we fished, then he had another steelhead chomp down so hard on his skater to close in the gap of his bomber hook.
One can't argue with success, so following that trip, I stopped at the local fly shops to gather materials. I grabbed some gold krystal flash, gold diamond braid, and gold ice dubbing and went to work. The value of gold proved itself to me immediately with a rise and a good hookup on my first outing field testing the gold waker.
Just as with Rick's waker, I used yellow foam for the shellback/lip and then I elected to use white and orange for the visitility posts. It turns out the bright colors on top are very visible near dusk in areas where the surface of the water is dark.
Rick mentioned that gold is a key fly color on rivers that he fishes so he incorporates gold in many of his patterns. I'm glad that I learned the value of gold from Rick's experiences with gold flies.
The fall season is upon us with shorter days, overcast weather and cooling air and water temps. Tis my favorite time of year!
Wishing you all a wonderful fall season and abundant rising steelhead to feed the need.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
|Lee Lashway playing hookie|
We got a reasonably early start, leaving town at 4am and arriving on the river just after first light. We hit some of our favorite runs until the day developed into it's normal summer routine turning bright and hot by late morning.
My good friend Keith Tymchuck was camping on the river so we stopped in at his campsite for a lunch break and to compare steelhead notes. It turns out we were all having the same degree of success on the river, that is, no love from steelhead all around. No grabs or rises for any of us. Not unusual on this often finicky body of water.
Lee has been a long time member of the Steamboaters and has served on their board for a number of years. Through this association, Lee has been close friends with Frank and Jeanne Moore. After lunch, Lee and I drove over to the Moore's log house above the river to see if they were home and up for a quick visit.
As luck would have it, Frank and Jeanne were home and they welcomed us with the graciousness and kindness they are known for. Previously, I had briefly met Frank and Jeannie at the Steamboater's winter event in 2011 when Bill McMillan came to speak. Frank commented on how Bill McMillan is a wonderful man.
Our conversations ran the course from North Umpqua steelhead, to the immensity of what Frank and Jeannie have meant to the North Umpqua basin and beyond. I mentioned having listened to Frank's Ted Talk and having seen trailers from "Mending the Line" and being deeply touched by his conveyances of the value of marriage and his love and dedication to his wife Jeanne, whom he always speaks of with much love and adoration. He said "she's a great girl".
We talked about fishing of course. I mentioned having heard that Frank's favorite summer flies were small muddlers. He confirmed that he liked to fish muddlers in size 8 and 10, surprisingly on a dead drift! He noted that he often used a dead drift presentation because "after a while we all now where these fish lie". He recalled hooking some steelhead with just a few feet of fly line out of his rod tip, on very short casts.
Frank reminisced about the old days and told us that "when the fish were in, there could be 10-15 steelhead in each pool". He mentioned about double digit steelhead days, just in the campwater, in the years after WWII. I surmised that if the river historically held that many steelhead at one time, then it is very far below it's carrying capacity today. I think of such things when I can go day after day of fishing numerous runs and pools that could potentially hold large numbers of steelhead. I often wonder "How can so much great holding water be seemingly empty so much of the time"??
I looked around the Moore's living room and saw the banner from when they celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary. Many historical North Umpqua photos could been around the home as well. Their home was much like a museum of this special place loved by so many of us. My eye was drawn to the photo of the "plank pool" (the Station) with the plank actually there - must have been before Frank pulled it out.
|Jeanne and Frank Moore's 70th wedding anniversary banner.|
|The plank at Station|
I talked of some runs that I have been fishing and like and described them to Frank and blurted out what I thought the name of said runs were. Frank stated that each of the runs on the North Umpqua have a proper name and the names I was told were incorrect. Live and learn.
Frank told the story of when Roderick Haig Brown came to visit and fished the North Umpqua and he proclaimed his belief that steelhead don't feed in freshwater. Frank later caught and kept a wild winter buck whose belly was filled with many tiny insects so he sent the steelhead's entrails packaged in dry ice to Roderick Haig-Brown as proof of a steelhead feeding in freshwater. Mr. Haig-Brown later conceded that some steelhead do indeed feed in freshwater.
We appreciated the Moores' accommodating our visit with out notice even though they are known to tell folks to come by any time. We did not want to overstay our welcome so we tried to keep our visit brief. I got a few pictures with the Moore's and said a quick prayer with them before heading off.
|A visit with Frank and Jeannie Moore is good as Gold. Photo by Lee Lashaway|
|The Original Steelhead Taxi, Frank's VW|
I arrived home by about 5pm, went into my house, fed our dog, then I remembered that new local piece of water that yielded a rise for me the other day. I was tired, but I am also a guy who often "just can't get enough". With the frustrations of fishing the "empty river" that day, I decided to jump back into the Steelhead Taxi for an effort at some evening redemption on my local flow.
I arrived at my homewater in no time, jumped back into my waders and went back to my new found spot. No one else was about fishing and I felt thankful to be afforded solitude close to home.
I began at the top of the fishy section and after a few casts, I was back in the zone where I raised a steelhead a few days prior. I carefully fished the section where the two mid river breaks form the cushion of soft water that yielded the recent rise to my new gold waker. Apparantly no one was home this day as my waker swung through this water without any interruptions from rising steelhead.
I continued down, still optimistic for a rise, but still unsure as I was still new to fishing this run. The full potential of this water was yet to be discovered. As I worked through the run, I continued to note surface indicators of good structure below and enough depth for steelhead to feel secure.
As I neared the end of what looked like promising water, the currents slowed, but still fished my fly nicely. I continued to survey the water and was adjusting to the slower swing afforded by the softening flow. I was making casts straight across since the surface textures invited a broadside swing.
As I watched my waker coming toward the end of a broad swing, a soft, but substantial gulp came to the fly. As I did nothing and held on, my line tightened with a slow solid back and forth pull. I simply kept my line tight and transferred the rod to my left hand and began reeling tighter to the steelhead with my right hand. The steelhead did some stubborn tug of war with a few short runs. Not a reel screamin' steelie but he gave a strong battle nonetheless. The optical illusion of water originally made this steelhead appear to be much smaller than I realized it to be when I got him in close. With no convenient gravel bar to beach the fish, I was able to put my rubberized Cabela's sun gloves on which gave me enough grip to tail the steelhead. I got a few photos of my hatchery prize and headed home shortly thereafter since I did not have a cooler nearby on this warm day.
|More Gold. Hatchery buck taken on my new gold waker.|
Thursday, August 4, 2016
|Waiting for an evening rise.|
Got out for an evening session after work with low expectations due to the summer heat we are experiencing. Afternoon/evening water temps have been getting into the high 60's - not the best conditions for bringing hatchery steelhead to the surface on my local ditch, but my motto is "the best time to fish is when you can". It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
Upon arriving at the river, I got out of the steelhead taxi to suit up and realized that I left my waders at home... I then figured maybe today was the day to wet wade, then I remembered that my fishing license was in my waders. I could have chanced it and fished anyway, but just my luck that OSP would decide that today would be a good day to check licenses on random Asians.
I drove back to the house and grabbed my waders and was back at the river in about 20 minutes - nice to have a homewater so close by where there is a chance to get steelhead to come to the surface.
I was armed with a couple new items to test out; a brand new Cabela's TLr 10' 7wt (on sale for $59.95! A gift from my dear wife, "just because") and my latest gold wang modeled after my friend Rick Fielder's skater. Rick showed me the appeal of gold this past weekend when he hooked into a nice buck and also had another steelhead clamp down hard enough on the fly on the grab to smash in the gap of the hook and bend the shank sideways as well.
|Newest toy from Cabela's - $59.95 of pure joy...|
|Rick Fielder's gold skater, note the bomber hook that got the gap smashed in by Mr. Steel|
|My version of gold|
Sun was still on the water and I was on river right, so I walked to some new water that I had never fished before. As I waded into this little run, I was intrigued by the structure and depth of the water. It was also nice to be in shade so I could stay cool in the heat, maybe if I felt good, the steelhead felt good in there too.
As I got about halfway down this new found run, I noted some bottom structure causing two breaks in the current with a sandwich of calmer water between them. My single hander and Ambush line were the perfect medicine in these tight quarters. I cast just past the mid stream break and as the flashy gold skater came through the chop, the broadside olive back of a steelhead suddenly appeared as it slashed at the fly. I kept twitching and felt nothing so I let the fly settle to the dangle.
I tried a tiny #10 yellow stimuwaker on the comeback - zip, then a black bodied McMillan Steelhead Caddis-riffle hitched - 0, then a #2 Yogi - nada, then a midnight special - nope. Back to the gold wang - still got a goose egg so I just continued down through the run and drew a blank. I was still delighted to have discovered new water in my backyard, more options for future trips, and a nice little spot that seems to rarely get fished.
I also drew a blank in the next couple runs but I enjoyed the rhythm and feel of my new rod and I was also encouraged by raising a steelhead on the gold wang.
I had about 20 minutes of daylight left when I hit the last run for the evening. By this time, an annoying breeze kicked up that was blowing diagonally towards me from the side. This made my casts collapse, even as I used the short fighting butt to turn the single hand rod into a mini switch to help with cack handed single speys.
I fished over sections of the run that held promise in the past, but no one answered doors when I knocked. As I neared the bottom of this run, my hopes just about ran out with the annoying side wind and low light level that basically left me fishing blind. Not even hardy twitches on the waker helped me locate it.
I decided to make the obligatory last cast. There was a brief lull in the breeze and my line went out somewhat straight into the darkness. I blindly twitched my fly as I would be preparing to reel up to get home. Near the end of the swing, I heard an explosion and my line instantly came tight with fly line peeling out of my vintage SA System 8 (Hardy Marquis). As I idly joked with myself "I think that's a steelhead", a 10-12lb form leaped from the water and landed with a splash.
As I reeled to recover line, I continued to feel weight, but my line stopped. I pulled back and no give or pull from the steelhead. I played out some slack and still nothing. I figured my steelhead must be tangled in a rock or log or got off and left my line caught up on some unseen object.
It turned out to be the latter. I kept jerking on my line and it came free with my fly still attached. There was some slight fraying on the tippet, but no other damage aside from my hook needing to be sharpened. I reeled up and headed for the car with a great sense of fulfillment with the surface encounters I was blessed with under less than ideal conditions. I glanced at my watch and was reminded that the long days of summer are slowly starting to get shorter as it was nearly full dark by 8:45pm. The glory days of fall are around the corner, yet at my age, I don't want to rush time and am reminded to treasure the present.
I suppose I am a bit superstitious and assume certain pieces of equipment have more mojo than others. Raising two steelhead and solidly hooking one of them while using my brand new Cabela's TLr single hander for the first time does draw that tendency in me to think that some inanimate object can have some magical power to lead me to steelhead. I even thought of the reel I was using and realized that for some reason, while using it, I have raised/hooked/landed a disproportinate number of steelhead relative to some of my other reels, and I don't even use it constantly - mojo?? I guess a guy can tend to think in weird directions when steelhead encountered are few and far between.
Sunday, July 31, 2016
The Midnight Special is my latest color blend with my common pattern platform
I kept looking at the black cactus chenielle at my local shop and finally decided to buy some and create yet another color blend for my crazy fly. I thought that including some purple would set off the black cactus chenielle nicely.
Frank Amato's Night Dancer came to mind so I ended up including purple cow elk wings, red Krystal flash in the tail and black Krystal flash behind the wing. I couldn't resist adding a green butt as well.
This color blend brought steelhead to the top in short order. I raised a local steelhead to the top the day after I tied my first rendition of the Midnight Special and I just raised several more this weekend on a more famous river to the south.
Unfortunately, the steelhead I have encountered have continued to be Teflon mouthed one timers. Luckily, I am happy enough whenever I can bring steelhead to the surface, regardless of whether I hook them.
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Today, July 3, was an easy going day where I slept in, tied some flies (Celestial Skaters) and helped with just a bit of housework before getting out for a pleasant afternoon/evening of fishing from the bank on my local flow. I got on the water by about 4pm and my game plan was to stay on river left to stay in the shade until evening approached when I could switch over to runs on river right.
I started off at a favorite run and started at the very top and worked all the way down until this big glide forms a tailout above an island. As I got lower in this run, the afternoon shadows lengthened across the river and the old anticipation came back as I recalled years past when I consistently found steelhead scattered about this flat. In this kind of water, my waker is plainly visible, and likewise the rise of a steelhead is unmistakable, with the smooth flow breaking into mayhem when the bulge of water comes and the fly disappears in the next instant. Those old images replayed in my mind, but by the time I got to the bottom of the run, reality set in that I have not risen a steelhead in this water for the past several years. I have wondered why this stretch of perfect skating water could provide incredible surface fishing one year and then never again since.
I got in my car and drove across the river to fish another favorite run. The low angle of the late evening sun was now shining directly towards me as it started set behind the tree tops on the opposite bank. I held up my hand to block the glare from my eyes so I could track the silhouette of my fly's namesake "indicater post" during it's cross stream path on each swing.
I would occasionally lose visual contact with my fly as it tracked through choppy currents in the low light conditions and blinding glare, but I managed to monitor the general location of my waker as I caught occasional glimpses of it's vertically mounted anatomical feature.
I fished through the run anticipating surface grabs in all the likely holds, but no players made an appearance during this session. I wondered if my local hatchery subjects would begin occupying their typical stations in multiple places in this run as the season progresses.
As dusk approached, I considered calling it a day but I impulsively decided to hit one last spot to fish into evening's darkness. At the top of this short run, I have leaning branches at my left shoulder so I began with miniature double speys. As I worked my Scandi head plus 7 strips of running line out, I began stepping down. The sun was behind the treeline on the opposite bank by now and I was enjoying the soft glow of evening. In the soft light, my waker silhouetted nicely against the mirrored surface of this quiet glide.
As I worked my way down, I was full of anticipation as I made swings along a beautiful seam that led to a soft cushion above the tailout.
As I negotiated around a leaning branch, my casts began reaching the soft cushion.
As I watched my fly coming into the fishy zone, I realized that I had chosen an ideal run to fish at last light. I just felt like I was in the right place at the right time.
My senses were full of expectation as I made my last few swings of the day. I watched my fly coming through the final quarter of a swing and just knew that if a steelhead was going to come up to eat my freshly tied Celestial Skater, this is where it would happen. .
Suddenly, the rise came like a miniature parting of the Red Sea as my waker disappeared into the abyss of dark water. I simply waited and felt solid weight pulling in the next instant. My vintage Hardy began playing out line with that classic English growl. My heart probably skipped a few beats as I began sweeping my rod towards the bank. Just as I felt the power of the steelhead, the hook pulled out.
I stood there dumbfounded as I yelled out "dang" to no one in particular. I made my last few casts by the time dusk set in and concluded that the steelhead I briefly encountered felt the hook and didn't have any company.
Some rises just stand out in my memory and the encounter just described is one that will replay in the gray matter for a while. It is moments like this that keeps me in hot pursuit of the next rise.
This summer has been a strange season thus far. That is, strange in a good way. Since getting my first surface steelhead for the season on June 23, I have been raising steelhead to the surface on most of my outings since then. This is the first year that I have encountered my local hatchery brats coming to the top so consistently this "early" in the season.
Unfortunately, the steelhead I have risen have been one timers - one rise and no more comebacks. Out of these risers, I had one that started to pull line from my Perfect, then got off and on a couple others, I felt a brief pull after the rise with no hook up. It's as if these steelhead are made of Teflon because I can't get them to stick!
Thursday, June 30, 2016
I posted pictures of the fly on Speypages and got supportive responses from members. I ended up sending a few of my flies to Mike Papais (GR8LAKES FLYER) to reciprocate his generosity in sending me a fine selection of hairwing wets, of course, tied in hand. Upon receiving my gift of flies which I typically ship in an Altoid tin, Mike's daughter Celeste was fascinated upon seeing the look of my strange flies and said to her father: "Hey daddy , those look like they're wearing life jackets , the salmon will think they're helpless and you'll get one for sure " ....... Because of Celeste's child-like faith in my fly, with Celeste's permission, I decided to name my fly after her.
This is just further validation that black and blue is just a magical color combo on steelhead for some reason. The composition of this pattern continually lends itself to endless color combos I have even been seeing postings of folks tying their own versions of this fly and I am just amazed and honored by the renditions I have seen of my humble fly.
My local steelhead continue to be looking up with fish raised on almost every trip lately. This has been the earliest that I have encountered consistent surface responses by my local anadromous quarry. However, these steelhead are currrently in "one timer" mode - they come up once and either they are hooked on that rise or if they miss, they won't come back. Will be interesting to see when these steelhead start getting into comeback or player mode - I just love the excitement of steelhead coming back to the surface multiple times and giving me extra chances at a hookup. My nerves are totally on edge and my senses on high alert during such exciting times.
Wishing you all an blessed skater season!
PS: I was reminded on one of the fly fishing forms that my fly is actually a waker, not a skater. Wakers push a v-wake in the surface and skaters are typically hackled flies that ride on the surface by hackle tips making a more subtle disturbance. Bill McMillan discussed these differences in Dry Line Steelhead as well. As our steelhead fly fishing culture has evolved, the two terms have been used interchangeably and I am guilty of deferring to using the terms skater and skating when my fly is actually a waker, that wakes. The semantics are not a huge deal to me, but I also want to respect history and tradition in our sport.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
|Jim Jones fishing a promising run. Todd Hirano photo|
We a had a full day to float so I planned to put us into a stretch of river that would give up plenty of options of runs to fish. I was honored that Jim trusted floating down the river with a guy who recently sunk a drift boat, but Jim is the fellow who taught me to row back in 1994, so I owed him a day off from rowing. I lost my front seat compartment in my boating accident so we made do with using a lawn chair for the front seat. This actually works out pretty well since it gives more space to maneuver around when getting in and out of the boat.
We put in just after dawn and found that we were the third boat to go down the river, judging by the two other boat trailers parked at the put in. We got aced out of the first two runs that I would normally stop to fish, but no big deal since we had a lot more water ahead of us. We continued on through the normal channel that I take when coming to the first split in the river. A short time later, we came to the dreaded area where I sunk my boat in late May. Even with the lower water level, I still pulled my boat over alongside the island and walked it through by the anchor rope as the root wads still present a dangerous obstacle.
As we floated below the island we scanned the water for objects that I lost during by boating accident, including the aforementioned seat compartment and back pack containing two JW Young fly reels and several Rage heads. No luck in finding any of my stuff, so we continued on to the next classic swing run about a half mile downstream.
As we came around a bend, I thankfully saw that the big run that I like was open. I pulled in and we got to fishing. Jim started below the boat and I walked to the very top of the run to start at the top corner or water I call the "armpit" of the run. I was fishing my original 6126 Echo Classic with a old school Rio AFS head and when I have the head and a few strips of running line out, I am in the zone were a nice soft cushion of water forms on the inside of the main flow. I watched my foam fly swing into the soft shallow water where multiple wakes form, indicating basketball sized rocks scattered about. As my waker comes near the dangle, a quick, but substantial rise comes to my fly and I feel a quick pull on my line. My waker disappears from sight for a few seconds and then bobs back to the surface.
I am confident that this encounter was with a steelhead and I was hopeful that my quarry did not feel the hook on the rise. I made the same cast with no result, then I changed flies several times, ultimately going to a small wet and still no comeback. I am thrilled with encountering my first surface steelhead rise for the season and am not surprised that my steelhead would not comeback after the one rise as this has been my typical experience with the early season steelhead on my homewater.
I continued down the run and when I was standing even with the boat, another steelhead came up with a splashy rise to my waker on a broadside swing. I followed with the same comeback routine and got the same result: no comeback steelhead.
We stopped at a few more minor runs before coming to the midpoint of our float. I wanted to time things so we would have enough opportunity to take advantage of the prime water in the lower half of the float. By about 11:30am, I wondered if we would have too much time on our hands to get through the runs in this lower section so on a whim, I decided to stop at a run formed by a little island. I have not hooked any steelhead in this water for probably 5 years, but figured we could kill a bit of time at this "secondary" locale.
I took the top of the run again and Jim fished the mid section. I opted to use my Fenwick 8' 7wt glass rod with a 7wt Ambush line to take advantage of fishing the short game at the armpit of this little run. I got the Ambush head and a few strips of line worked out and watched by baby blue waker coming over the dropoff noted by a color change in the bottom. As the fly came into the choppy flow on the inside of the dropoff, a quick, trouty rise came to the fly. I didn't think much of it and made another cast. In the same area, in only about a foot of water, a bigger rise came to the fly and my line instantly tightened and my little glass rod soon had a good bend in it. This steelhead gave a stubborn, yet powerful fight, making short bursts, but mostly fought in close.
I kept steady pressure on the fish, using a low rod position and clamping down on the palming rim on my old Hardy Marquis. When I got the steelhead close, I backed up on the island until I had my prize flopping on the small gravel bar. Of course, I do this knowing these are hatchery steelhead and I would never drag a wild steelhead onto the bank.
|In my happy place, single handed surface steelhead! Jim Jones photo|
Jim and I got a few photos and I took in the blessing of getting my first surface steelhead for the season. This was a day when it paid off to be prepared with a cooler for chance of harvesting a steelhead. After putting my fish in the cooler, I had Jim go through the top again, in case another active steelhead was around. When Jim got down past where I parked the boat, he later told me that he raised a steelhead, but did the trout set and missed him.
|Finally......... Jim Jones photo|
We continued through the float with much anticipation due to the surface activity we had been finding, but as luck would have it, no more steelhead came to our flies as we fished the remaining runs with a few light rain showers gracing us later in the afternoon. The anticipation of the grab was satisfying enough and I was glad to have Jim with me on a day that steelhead were looking up!
|Perfection. Todd Hirano photo|