Chasing tail in Eastern Oregon

2009-07-03T20:06:00.000-07:00

Nothing better than spending a lazy summer afternoon throwing dries and catching trout.

Spent two afternoons horsing around the local rivers - one, a smaller piece of water, with cookie cutter rainbows around 6 inches and not a soul around.

Spent the better part of today at my local favorite, what I am considering my home waters, landing some of the nicest trout to date.

Summer's short - get out there

2009-06-15T10:21:00.000-07:00

Summer. To a fly fisherman, early summer conjures up two thoughts - big bugs, and trout losing their inhibitions.

The bugs in question were brown drakes on Silver Creek, and salmonflies on the Deschutes.

Doug and I spent Sunday through Wednesday morning on Silver Creek, tubing the Preserve and trying to catch a sporadic PMD hatch, and then waiting for the brown drakes to come off at dusk.

The brown drakes are probably the most fickle hatch I've encountered - yes, you can guess what one week of the year they'll come off, but the temps have to be just right, the wind just right, and of course the fish have to cooperate. No easy feat.

But when the trout are keying on them, it is quite a reward...

Doug and I drove the 6 hours back to my place, then each busted down to Bend - Doug back to his place (welcome back to Oregon!), me to Kevin's place at Crooked River Ranch to meet up with Paul, Dave, and Kevin.

We floated the Lower D from Warm Springs to Trout Creek both Thursday and Friday, each morning greeted by warm temps and sun, each afternoon with thunder showers and temps in the 60's.

On Saturday, we left the driftboats and busted south, hitting some smaller water and enjoying the change of pace. This to me is the epitome of summer fishing - small pocket water, a parachute adams, and willing trout rising. Pretty fun...

See you next year boys!

2009-01-02T13:46:00.000-08:00

Winter.

I've been trying to get out and fish for steelhead, but the single digit temps coupled with two feet of snow and a river frozen over hasn't helped me out.

So I've been tying...

Working on some steelhead patterns for the spey...

Of course, daydreaming of salmon flies and June...

My favorite fly last summer - the "summer special" - a cross between a Madam X and a Stimulator. Caught almost all of my trout last summer on this pattern...

2008-10-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

Fall means two things - one, I begrudgingly have to start raking leaves, and two, we've got a fall trip to eastern Idaho and Yellowstone for the final "hurrah" at trout season.

We pushed the trip back a week or two this year, hoping to hit true fall weather, and we were not disappointed. Cruised into Boise on Saturday, and the world was white. Picked up Doug and Paul at the airport, and rolled on towards Silver Creek.

We had a little snow on the ground, but waking up Sunday morning we were surprised to see over 2 inches of fresh snow.

Normally we'd tube the s-curves through the Preserve, but given the snow opted to push east.

Unfortunately, the Box Canyon section of the Henry's Fork was running at a measly 225 cfs, roughly half of what it should have been for this time of year, so we walked into a few spots but didn't float it.

We floated Warm River to Ashton on the Henry's Fork, managing to pick up a few smaller fish (and I caught a monster sucker) but we were all focused on the Madison...

Got up on the Madison at sunset on Monday, and were treated to a nearly full moon rising over the river.

Sadly, Doug is scheduled to have shoulder surgery, which prevented him from working the sticks however he was able to fish (how convenient!)...the fishing was dynamite, and while we picked up a few fish on #18 and #20 baetis patterns the bigguns were on zonkers and buggers.

Got off the water late Tuesday, and dropped through West Yellowstone into the Park. One of the benefits to pushing the trip this late in the season is that there was no one around - we didn't see anglers, boats, or many campers for that matter, and the Park was no exception.

We had hoped to hike into Slough Creek in the NE corner of the Park, but one of the Park Rangers informed us that the snow storm that had dropped a few inches on us at Silver Creek earlier in the week had dumped FOUR FEET of snow on Cooke City, just outside the NE entrance to the Park. Not knowing if we could even get into Slough Creek, we opted for a lazy day of throwing dries on the Firehole.

Paul had a date with Reality on Friday, mumbling something incoherent about presentations. Sadly, at that stage in the trip, anything outside of "browns", "tippet", or "what are ya using?" might as well be a conversation in Klingon, so we hit the Barnes Pools on the Madison, grabbed breakfast in West Yellowstone and sealed him to his fate by dropping him off at the Idaho Falls airport Thursday afternoon.

Doug and I rolled west, postponing our own respective reality check, and spent the last few nights on Silver Creek. The weather could not have been more of a contrast - first of the week was snow and a high of 30ish, Thursday and all day Friday was almost 70 and sun.

The fishing was excellent - streamers at last light resulted in several nice fish, and tubing the s-curves gave us a baetis hatch mid morning and we picked up several nice fish on #20 adams...

Dropped Doug off at the Boise airport Saturday, and made my way back home to NE Oregon. All in all, this was one of the better trips - a true "fall" trip, and I know that I am already looking forward to next October...

2008-08-15T22:46:00.000-07:00

After fishing my local haunts almost weekly for the past few months, I decided to stretch my legs a bit and head up over the mountain. Busted out of the house around 6, was on the water a little after 7.

I started nymphing, had a few on but couldn't seal the deal. Switched the nymphs out for my old standby, a foam bodied parachute pattern that has resulted in almost every trout I've caught since June.

Caught many, most around 10 or 12 inches, lost a few that were pretty fat but what are you gonna do? Caught a mix of natives and planters, amazing how you can tell from the initial take which one you've got on the line...

I'll be back out here the first weekend in September getting a tune up on my spey cast and getting ready for steelies!

2008-07-21T16:26:00.000-07:00

I made another day trip to my local haunt - surprisingly, today was overcast, cool, and even damp due to a few sprinkles.

Rigged up the 2 weight and walked up river.

Picked up a few smaller - 6 or 8 inch trout but managed to hook into some nice fish as well.

I landed two of the largest trout I've caught on this river...both slammed the foam bodied parachute stimulator pattern I've been using as of late, putting quite a bend in the 2 weight. One is in the pic below and one that was a big larger with some serious shoulders slid out of hand before the camera made it out of my pocket.

Fished for a few hours, ended on a high note after bringing a solid 12 inch redside to hand...great day.

2008-07-11T22:18:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, I picked up a used zero weight from a buddy of mine. While it may seem like a novelty, you spend a lazy summer afternoon with it in your hand, casting dries to fiesty redsides and you'll be a believer.

My work leases some Forest Service cabins outside of town, and I had to cruise up river to check out some work we were having done. Wrapped that up, and drove on over to the trailhead.

Walked for about an hour, alone on the trail and listening to the river.

River was still pretty cool, with a fair number of bugs out and about - even spotted a golden stone buzzing around.

Caught rainbows on dries for a few hours, and then hoofed it back down the trail to the rig...

2008-06-30T08:12:00.000-07:00

I took Friday off, and given the temps were supposed to be in the the 90's by early afternoon I buzzed out of the house early and hit the trail around 9:30 AM.

I brought the 5 weight with a sink tip, and walked up river swinging streamers through the deeper holes in the hopes of hooking up with a bull. Had one nice grab, and he started "bull dogging" me down towards the bottom of the hole before popping off.

Hoofed it in the three miles to the old DeMari cabin, where I put the 5 weight away and broke out the 3 weight.

I originally started out with a #16 adams, but after no activity I swapped it for a new foam parachute pattern, which looks like a #8 golden stone or hopper. It was immediate trout candy - you could see these redbands screaming out of their pockets and just hammering the thing...

Hooked plenty, landed a few, missed more. A great day on the water.

2008-06-10T10:16:00.000-07:00

Ah, spring in the mountains. You never know quite what to expect. Last June, Doug and I nailed the Brown Drakes on Silver Creek - several nights of surreal fishing, causing you to look back and wonder if it really happened.

This year, Dave, Doug and I tried our luck - unfortunately, it's been a cold spring, and as a result the Drakes didn't happen. Despite it being rainy and overcast, it didn't dampen our spirits, and we dragged the drifter with us and made a great loop to eastern Idaho on top of Silver Creek.

The trip started out decent, landing a handful of nice fish through the s-curves on the preserve.

We rolled out of Silver Creek, heading east towards Last Chance and the Henry's Fork. It had been our hope to hit the salmonflies on the Henry's Fork, but again given the cold and slightly damp days, it was hit or miss. Soon as the big bugs would make an appearance, the weather would turn and things would slow down.

We hit the Box Canyon section Monday, then floated Warm River to Ashton Tuesday before cruising into YNP on Wednesday and checking out the Firehole. The river was high and slightly off color, but for a brief few minutes that afternoon the baetis came off and the fish were hammering the surface.

Thursday, back on the Box for two back to back runs - the first float was stellar - warm temps, maybe the warmest all week, with a blizzard of caddis out and about. No fish on the surface, but emergers and nymphs were an almost constant source of takes.

The second float of the day was slow - temps dropped, and towards the end the rain and eventually hail pounded us relentlessly. We made the 200 mile drive back down to Silver Creek, bbq'd and watched the stars come alive before breaking camp early Friday and driving to Boise to make flights and the long drive home.

2008-06-10T10:11:00.000-07:00

I've been traveling heavily for work, which is a huge part of the reason I took the job. The opportunity to roll through eastern Oregon, visiting small communities is amazing.

So is the remoteness of it all...

I've been doing some fishing, as a trophy brown trout fishery exists within 20 minutes of one of the communities I frequent...

2008-04-12T20:29:00.001-07:00

Steelhead season closes on the 15th, and given that I still have yet to lay my paws on one I thought I'd give it another shot...the river was higher than I had wanted it to be, but what are you gonna do in mid April?

While I didn't even see a fish this time (unlike last week, when I almost stepped on one holding in 4 inches of water and spooked several more right against the bank) I did bear witness to one of the largest caddis hatches I've ever seen.

Beautiful day on the water - I did see numerous trout gorging themselves on the blanket of caddis in the backeddies, and all it did was just reaffirm that I am ready for the 4th Saturday in May.

2008-03-30T20:12:00.000-07:00

Trout season is just around the corner - and don't I know it. I've been chomping at the bit to get out and do some trout fishing. Never did land a steelhead, much less even have one on for longer than a "hot damn, there it is" before it popped off, but I am past that. I am ready for trout season.

So, I've been spending some time at the vise, and in between tying hot pink chenile things with Elsa (she picks the color, however I am sure some dumb fish would eat them) I've been cranking out parachute adams, stimulators, pheasant tails, and, more recently, streamers. I lost my big ass streamer box last fall, presumably left it on the raft trailer at Silver Creek, so I've been trying to replenish my stash.

Bring on the bull trout!

2008-03-19T20:47:00.000-07:00

I had a mid morning meeting in Condon today, and when we wrapped up I realized I had a few hours to kill before my next meeting. So, I pointed the car south and cruised down to the Painted Hills.

Despite the first day of spring being tomorrow, it was low 30's and snowing most of the drive, but aside from the wild turkeys and antelope I had to the trails to myself and enjoyed the solitude.

Of course, A was very jealous when I got home tonight, as that is one of her favorite destinations, but being that it is only a few hours away I'm sure we'll be down once the wildflowers are in bloom...

2008-03-09T21:05:00.000-07:00

Spring is here, at least so far as I am concerned, but tell that to the elk.

A's Uncle Mark and I spent a Sunday hiking the river canyon just above his cabin, with the hope of finding some shed antlers. Great day out and about, and while we spooked several groups of deer the real treat came when we got up on top and came across a massive herd of elk bedded down. As we got closer they got wind of us, and slowly meandered into the timber. I'd guess there were around a hundred, with several smaller bulls. We watched them through our binoculars for a spell, and then worked our way across the side canyon and headed down - only to spook a beautiful bull, alone down in the bottom of the canyon.

Unfortunately for us, despite seeing several decent signs where the bulls had been rubbing, all of the bull elk we spotted were still wearing their antlers, so while it feel like spring, the elk are holding onto their winter "flair"...

It was a great day, although I am fully pooped and slightly sore, but hopefully in the next few weeks we can get back out there and see what we can find.

2008-02-28T20:12:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I went fishing for trout; yes, I've been swinging flies once a week or so for steelhead in town, but that's a whole different beast. Deep down, while I long for the tug on the line from a steelhead, when I sit at the vise I think of trout. I had landed a nice trout when swinging for steelies a month or so ago, but an honest to goodness take on the dry hadn't been since September.

I had to make a trip over the hill for work, 3 days and 2 nights worth of travel, and spent some time exploring after my meetings. I've had limited exposure to the area, just enough to be dangerous, but being that this would be my home turf I decided I had best become better acquainted.

Most of the high country was still snowed in, but the lower drainages were looking good.

I rolled down to the river late Wednesday, maybe around 5, rigged up the 3 weight and a size 16 adams, and went looking for Mr. Brown. The river canyon was spectacular, so much so that I couldn't stop taking pics.

There were no hatches to speak of, but one thing about an adams is that it brings out the curiosity in almost any trout. Seems like they can't help themselves...

After that beauty, I wasn't so concerned with catching another...rather, I was pretty content. I absentmindedly cast for a while longer, but mostly I just watched the sunset. I saw a few other decent fish rolling, but no rises.

Thursday I busted out of the hotel early, I had a meeting north in the mountains and was itching to get on the road. Dropping down into the town I was treated to one helluva view, and a reminder that, while it may be 60 and sunny down low, winter still had a firm grip up high.

After my meeting and a quick bite to eat at the local watering hole, I dropped down to the other side of the valley to check out a river I've fished a few times prior. I had caught a handful of smaller trout in years past, nothing of any significance, but wanted to see how she was in the winter. Unfortunately, while nice to look at, this river is largely managed for irrigation down in the lower reaches, and the dam up river was throttled back to save water for the summer. The fishing showed it - low, no cover, and not a trout to be seen. I packed it in after an hour or so and got back on the road.

All in all, a great trip - my work meetings went well, I caught my first trout of 2008, and explored some new country.

I'll see how she fishes in a month or so...

2007-12-19T20:45:00.000-08:00

I had to make a run north of the border for work, and decided to take the long way home and check out a stretch of water I'd never laid eyes on before. This river has a decent population of resident trout, and the annual steelhead run just started making it's way up.

I wrapped up my meeting around noon, and after a quick bite to eat drove south and dropped down into the river canyon. The temp was around freezing, so the snow had melted somewhat leaving the dirt road a mess...

The river itself was beautiful - it was obviously high, as the grass along the banks was covered, but the color was good. Temps were cold though, as most standing water was frozen, and I didn't see any hatches coming off.

I fished and played around for a bit, mostly scouting holding water for steelhead, which should be showing up higher in the next few weeks. Packed it in mid afternoon and drove out an even worse road than I drove in, crawling up a dirt track to the plateau above in 4wd and 1st gear...

I'll be back, just a matter of when...

2007-11-10T17:58:00.001-08:00

It's been a wild ride - in less than one month, I quit one job, moved 300 miles, and started a new job. I'm glad for that ordeal to be over, and am looking forward to settling in. Part of that is exploring my new home, and what better place to start than the river 10 minutes from my office...

I buzzed a few miles down river, and pulled over at a likely looking run. I about tripped over myself running back up to the pickup when I saw a large fish rolling just at the "v" in this tailout.

I rigged up and then proceeded to swing and step down river towards the fish. I actually had it boil under my fly several times before I saw that it was a dark fish, and when I got closer I learned it was a gnarly spawned out coho. I reeled in and just spent a few minutes watching this hen hold on her redd.

It rained last night, and hopefully we'll get some more over the next few weeks to bring the steelies in. I'd better get some more granola bars, as I won't have time for a sandwich during lunch...

2007-09-30T20:08:00.000-07:00

I met up with Doug in Boise on Thursday. I had busted out of Pendleton that morning, hauling a week's worth of gear not to mention our new raft. Doug had driven north from San Diego the day before, a full 1,000 miles behind the wheel and the trip was just beginning. We were giddy as we hooked the raft up to his rig and made our way east, out towards Silver Creek.

After a day spent on Silver Creek, we drove into the high country and spent an evening fishing Harriman's on the Henry's Fork. The weather was surprisingly warm and sunny, which would be a theme for most of the trip. While it made camping pleasant, it turned the fishing off as the browns were looking for cold and overcast skies.

Saturday morning was our first run in the raft - we floated the Box Canyon section of the Henry's Fork, and while the river had dropped that morning to almost 450 cfs we each still managed to pick up fish and have a great time floating in "Boxy"

We got off the river around 1 PM, just enough time to load up our gear and drop 80 miles back down to Idaho Falls to pick up Kevin from the airport. It was great to see him, and we headed back up and spent the evening fishing around Last Chance.

Sunday morning we drove out to St. Anthony and down to the Warm River launch. The weather was warm, but it rained cats and dogs most of the day. We all landed a few fish, but nothing of any real size.

We rolled north and camped on the Madison just south of Ennis Sunday night, and hit heavy snow and cool temps. We'd been waiting for the cooler weather, but the single shot of cool temps and rain wasn't enough to turn the browns on.

Tuesday and Wednesday we spent in Yellowstone; this, for me, is the highlight of the trip. The surreal landscape combined with phenomenal trout fishing is amazing, and I frequently find myself forgetting to cast and just watching everything around me.

Last year, Doug and I had hiked in and explored some water in the northeast corner of the park, and this year we were determined to hike even further. After a 5 mile hike in, we were rewarded with some amazing water and native yellowstone cutt's

We packed it up Thursday morning and dropped down towards Silver Creek...one last day before reality set in.

Friday found us back in Boise...Kevin on a late morning flight to Portland, Doug dropping south to San Diego, and me heading to Pendleton to meet up with the girls. Big changes are looming for us - while on our trip, I accepted a position in Pendleton, so October proves to be chaotic and I look forward to further exploring my favorite corner of Oregon.

2007-07-17T09:47:00.000-07:00

I spent the better part of last week working wheat harvest for my father-in-law. It's funny trying to explain why I enjoy doing it, as it isn't most people's idea of a "getaway." Yes, it's hard work, and yes, it's hot, but for the most part it's a great opportunity to take a break from the "routine", get dirty, and eat well. And, if I can convince my father-in-law to take an afternoon off, there's some great fishing to be had...

Elsa, of course, thinks that the whole world is her playground, and intends to make the most of it.

We wrapped up one field Saturday morning, and after a few hours of work in the early afternoon Steve and I loaded up and headed out for the evening hatch on a river just north of the ranch.

Just at dusk the bugs were thick - large caddis and swarms of mayflies everywhere. My usual trick is to find the deeper, covered troughs, hook a smaller trout and play it for a bit in the hope of enticing a bull trout to grab it, but alas it didn't work out. I'll take some native redbands tho...

Sunday we all headed out to spend the day around A's Aunt and Uncle's Cabin. We spent some time with the fam, and then drove further up river for a picnic. The girls were ready for their naps, so after a car swap they headed back down to the ranch while Steve and I bushwhacked up a smaller tributary, casting dries to tiny native trout for a few hours. There wasn't a trail, so you just walked up the river...

Some were bigger, a few smaller, but all in all they were a lot of fun and definitely fiesty.

2007-06-26T08:11:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate enough to meet up with a few guys from one of my (insert A's voice) "dorky forums". Yes, it's dorky. I'll admit it. I'm not normally a social angler, I'm actually pretty selective about who I fish with, but when you chat with guys during the day you develop a bit of a repoire, and it's always interesting to see if the person matches the online persona.

We met up at the fly shop in Welches, and after some brief introductions drove to the river. Rigged up, and hiked in. Conversation was of course about fishing, and it's neat to see the diverse fishing backgrounds everyone brings.

Fishing was decent during the day, nothing extraordinary, but again the trout were willing to rise to a dry were wild rainbows, so I don't ask much more than that.

I had promised to be home early enough for dinner, so a little after 3 I moved back on down the trail and to the truck.

We're heading into July, which usually means a break for me from fishing, but we'll see...

2007-06-26T07:55:00.000-07:00

There is something appealing about small stream fishing. Don't get me wrong, my heart races every time I hook up to a Lower D redside, but moving amongst the rocks and brush, casting a simple adams behind boulders and next to logs, is different.

I love this stretch of water. It's not the easiest to find, and I've never seen another angler, but most importantly it's only open for two weeks a year. So, when the time comes, you do what you have to and get out there.

The cutthroat are small, but fiesty and aggressive. They aren't use to any pressure, so it becomes more of a challenge to seek out the bigger ones. Today, that was only 6 or 7 inches, which is a great time on a 0 weight.

Finally, I've done what I came up here for, and am ready to drive back and chase the girls around.

2007-06-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

There are those experiences that will stick with you forever. In regards to fishing, I've got several - first steelhead on a fly, catching native cutt's on Slough Creek, first time I floated the D in my own boat. I can add one more, and that is the Brown Drake hatch on a not-so-secret spring creek in Idaho.

I picked Doug up at the Boise Airport Thursday afternoon, and we just pointed the truck east and went. Rolled into camp late afternoon, cracked a beer, and relished the sound of the water.

For the brown drakes, we didn't really know what to expect; there were a fair number of anglers out and about, most of them heading down to the water around 4. Doug and I were in no hurry, so we hunkered down at camp and watched the sun drop before grabbing the rods and hitting the water. Unfortunately, the big bugs never really came off, and we cast half-heartedly while thinking of bbq and beer.

Friday morning we rolled into the Preserve, pumped up the tubes, and kicked through the "s-curves." Fishing was decent, with some baetis first thing in the morning, but the PMD's never really came off so by early afternoon we packed it in.

Friday afternoon was another story entirely. We'd learned Thursday night that most anglers were moving down to the water early to reserve "their spot." So we moved down, stumbled across a nice run that was teeming with brown drakes, and "smoked and joked" until dark. Then the magic began...

It started slowly at first - a few bugs would start flying in the grass behind you. Then a few more. Soon, a swarm of big brown drakes would be methodically fluttering up 18 or 24 inches, only to float gently down and do it again. As the sun dropped further on the horizon, the bugs would increase in intensity, until they moved out over the water at dusk and thousands would move in unison. First, up river, then almost instantly, the entire swarm would move down river, only to repeat the process again and again.

Finally, you'd notice the bugs descending on the water to drop eggs. A splash here, another over there. Smaller fish at first, and then you'd hear them - big fish, hammering bugs off the surface. As it got darker, the trout became more bold, moving into shallow water and out of their lairs. The bugs would finish their ritual, and spinners would cover the water. Your fly was lost amongst thousands of naturals, you could only watch a general area and raise your rod should you hear a splash. Yet, despite all of the chaos and darkness, presentation was everything. 13 foot 6x leader, 2 feet of 6x tippet, and an absolute drag-free drift was paramount, as they were still selective.

You fish until well after dark, just before the full moon broke over the horizon, giggling like school girls. Break out the headlamp, fix your tippet, cast some more. Raise the rod at the splash. Soon, you notice that the bugs are gone. We'd pack it in, walk the path back to camp and sit around, grinning from ear to ear and nurse a beer...

Saturday we woke early and again headed over to the Preserve. We were in no hurry today, still giddy from the Brown Drakes the night before, and drank coffee and ate some baked goods while watching the morning sun wake the birds. Yellow headed and red winged blackbirds, warblers, sandhill cranes, and scores of others...

Despite it being a Saturday, the crowds weren't too bad. The baetis came off early, but the PMD's never materialized in force and the fishing slowed considerably late morning. We each managed to fool a few, but it took about 15 patterns and countless casts before bringing one to hand.

We rolled up the valley, made a sandwich on the banks of the Big Wood and bs'd. Rolled back down to camp, grabbed our gear, and walked up river looking for the bugs.

The hatch was again intense, not nearly as much as Friday night, but the sheer awesomeness of it was overwhelming. The clouds above us had thickened, bringing the bugs to the water early and the big fish out hammering the surface. We fished hard, but still having a great time and laughing at missed takes and relishing the big fish spooling line.

Sunday morning we woke early, broke camp, and headed west towards Boise, still amazed at our sheer luck in hitting the elusive hatch.

When I close my eyes, I can still picture the swarm of brown drakes, dancing over the water...

2007-05-11T12:56:00.000-07:00

The Third Annual "Spring Fling" started early this year - we had all been harassing one another via email for weeks, anticipating days of trout and nights of stars. So, when May 4th finally rolled into view, I was boiling with enthusiasm.

Kevin and I met Doug at Lower Bridge. It had been cool and windy, so the fishing was nothing to write home about and he had bagged it. We rolled to Kevin's place and hunkered down for the night, Doug walking us through his drive north along the east side of the Sierras and getting ready for the Lower D tomorrow.

The Lower D was slow - water levels looked good, but the fishing wasn't spectacular. River traffic was surprisingly slow for a Saturday, with only a few other boats to contend with. Stangland and Grassy Camp were full of overnighters but below the camps the river was empty.

Dave had busted out of his house early and made it to Kevin's around 10:30, and we rallied and headed down for an afternoon of dry fly fishing. We were greeted to a surprise when we noticed the salmonflies were thick and the trout were keying in on them, eagerly slamming the big bugs off the surface.

I coaxed a couple of nice brownies to hand with a foam stimulator, one around 18", and lost another just shy of that. All in all, a great afternoon and a real treat with the big bugs being out.

Our posse was complete Sunday afternoon, as Paul arrived earlier then expected and we whittled the afternoon playing horseshoes and kicking back.

Monday was back to the Lower D, floating Warm Springs to Trout Creek. The river continued to drop and the fishing really picked up in the afternoon.

The fish of the day was a real Houdini - Paul hooked him at Rebar, and after several leaps and jumps, wrestled him to hand. Of course, just as he was preparing for the hero shot, the fish slipped away and left Paul empty handed. Easy come, easy go...

After a long day on the water, we kicked back and enjoyed another lazy day throwing dries. The salmonflies had begun to wane, but the goldens had picked up and the fish were still keying in on them. There were also caddis and mahogany duns, so I was able to fool several decent rainbows during the Parachute Adams hatch.

Wednesday was the reality check - we drifted Warm Springs to Trout Creek again, the third time in 5 days, but went our separate ways on the river. Doug and Dave hung back, as both were staying through Thursday, but Paul, Kevin and I got off the water early for the long drive over the hill.

For three years in a row, we've been able to coordinate a trip in the first half of the year. Looking forward to the 4th!

2007-04-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

I've got a trip in just under two weeks with the boys, but with all of the fevered chat between us I've been dying to get out. Reading some of the recent reports hasn't been helping either - overcast days, temps in the 60's, and scores of March Browns on the water.

So, when the river had been running consistently at 5700 cfs and work was somewhat calm on Monday, I bolted out of the house late Sunday night, rolled into Pine Tree just in time to nurse a beer, check out the stars and spent the night in the truck listening to the river.

Monday morning was chilly - not a cloud in the sky, which resulted in temps in the low 20's. Blue winged olives were coming off, size 20 and 22's, but not splashy rises.

The day started heating up though, and by 10 AM I was down to the t-shirt and regretting the fact that I didn't bring sunscreen as the weather was supposed to be 60ish and overcast. It was easily 70 and bright sun.

Some gave all

I did manage to pick up a few trout, mostly smaller fish, and not the big bruisers that put that smile on your face and make you sit and laugh after releasing.

The March Browns never quite materialized - chatting with one of the guides from Maupin, who was on the river to do some filming, she indicated that yesterday was "epic." Of course it was, I wasn't there...

Oh well, that's fishing.

Looking forward to the trip with the boys, and until then I'll be dreaming of the river.

2007-03-12T08:07:00.000-07:00

The rain had subsided a bit the past few days, and I decided that I had better take advantage of the decent weather and check out some of the coastal rivers before things changed.

I rolled out of town at 6 on Friday morning, heading west into the Coast Range. My father-in-law and I had scouted this creek out last fall, and I had been pretty curious to know if there were any steelies in it yet. I know a little about it's sister river further upriver, and figured I'd be hitting it just before or at the start of the run.

The road up was a mess; the recent heavy rains and low snow level had turned it into slop. I stopped at the trailhead for the sister river and checked it out. The river is renowned for running clean and clear, and this morning it was high and slightly off color. I watched for several minutes and opted to continue on and check out the creek further downriver.

It was slightly off color, but to be honest it looked great - steelhead green. I drove up to the south fork, which is the upper boundary of the open water, and fished my way back.

If I know one thing about steelheading, it's that I know just enough to be dangerous. I'm a trout guy at heart, but there is something appealing about winter steelhead fishing - being out in the coast range, exploring, learning new water. I switched it up, from floating line to a moderate sink tip, and tried a slew of flies - moal hair leeches, lifters, eggs, all to no avail.

I didn't see any fish, although a few of the deeper slots and holes I had convinced myself I had, but I am hoping to get out again before the creek closes at the end of March. Of course, with two little girls at home and trout season beckoning, we'll see if that happens...

2007-02-14T07:54:00.000-08:00

I'm not what you'd call a sports fan, so when we were trying to plan a day on the river chasing steelhead February 4th sounded good to me.

"That's the day of the Super Bowl!" Out of the four of us, Kevin was obviously the only one who didn't have his head in the sand.

Hopes were high, but as the day progressed and the sun broke through the clouds, it ended up being a lot more sitting around bs'ing then fishing.

Finally, we just gave up and called it a day.

Many thanks to Dave for taking pics, as I didn't even break the camera out.

There's always tomorrow...

2006-11-29T07:20:00.000-08:00

Took the week off around Thanksgiving, and decided to scout out some coastal rivers in search of the elusive winter steelhead.

Of course, this time I took my fishin' partner...

Elsa, where are the fish?

Looks like the rain has subsided, and looking forward to chasing some steel!

scott

2006-10-23T07:12:00.000-07:00

I told A that this would be the last overnighter before the baby. Of course, that statement had originally been "this is the last trip before the baby." I prefer "last overnighter", as that leaves some room for negotiation. Of course, we both know who runs the show, and I am just fooling myself should I think there is any negotiation involved.

Bill and Em are expecting their first a few weeks after our second is due, so Bill and I both figured this was a great opportunity to get out and wet a line. For the past three years, Bill and I have done a float on the lower river in October, and we've always seemed to tie into some trout.

We camped Thursday night at Mecca Flats, rolling in just at dusk and setting up camp in the twilight.

The next morning was clear and crisp, and we broke camp and were on the water by 9 o'clock. The river was surprisingly busy, but being that we were camping there was no rush and we enjoyed the float.

The afternoon was warm, and caddis were thick with a few PMD's mixed in. Unfortunately, surface activity was non-existent, but we still managed to pick up a few on nymphs and emergers.

We set up camp mid afternoon, lounged around and refreshed our thirst for a bit. Fished until last light, then headed back to camp where Bill started a fire while I worked on the bbq pork chops.

Saturday morning was cold - temps in the mid 20's and heavy frost. We fished at first light, with a few nice trout to hand before breakfast.

Fishing was again strong in the morning, with nymphs being the ticket. One of the highlights for me was watching a large chinook salmon holding on a redd in the main river; while I had seen salmon in the Lower D before, I had not seen one spawning. That, coupled with a beauty of a redside, made my day.

Fishing tapered off as the sun and the temps climbed; we floated down towards Trout Creek, hitting the usual haunts as we went, and rolled into the takeout mid afternoon.

I don't know when I'll be on the Lower D again, but this was a great way to end trout season.

scott

2006-10-09T07:10:00.000-07:00

I have a few set of basic rules, several of which are givens (#1: Amy is always right), others have taken a few years to iron out.

One of my more recent ground rules is this: always have another fishing trip on the books before the one you are currently on is over. It's just much easier to deal with a trip ending that way. If the fishing is slow, you always have the next trip to look forward to.

During the end of my late September Yellowstone trip with Doug, I was bummed that our weeklong troutscapade was coming to the end. Fortunately, I had my rule to fall back on - I had a trip on the books with Dave, Paul, and Kevin in early October.

After a quick lunch Saturday, I kissed the girls goodbye, jumped in the Toyota, and grabbed Dave at his place on my way through town. Our plan was to rendevous with Paul on the river, and then Kevin was going to meet us that night at his place. Assuming, of course, that the three of us could stay up that late.

The three of us fished dries all afternoon, with decent success for small brownies during the classic "size 16 adams hatch." Around last light, we packed it in and headed back to the rigs.

Somehow or another, Kevin managed to avoid hitting any deer, and rolled in around midnight. We took advantage of the full moon and proceeded to play some horseshoes, enjoy a cigar, and catch up.

Sunday morning we packed up and busted down to the trailhead. There were a few other rigs at the parking lot, but for the most part we had the river to ourselves.

Kevin demonstrated his skills, proceeding to outfish Dave, Paul and I combined. Not that he rubbed it in or anything.

He even looks like a fisherman.

True to form, I've got another trip planned for the weekend of October 21st. After that though, baby #2 is due in late January, so rule #1 will be kicking in and I'll be sticking close to home.

Of course, steelhead will be in the coastals, anyone up for a day trip?

scott

2006-09-26T20:42:00.000-07:00

Somehow or another I had persuaded my employer to provide a sabbatical at ten years. Of course, I do enjoy my job, but when offered three weeks paid I wasn't foolish enough to say no.

And I made the most of it - A, E, and I spent several days at the beach, kicked around Pendleton and hitting the Round Up with my folks, and then to wrap it up spent an entire week living out of the pickup trout bumming with Doug.

Doug flew into Boise Sunday, I picked him up and we were on our way. Some water was to be familiar to us, some new to me, some not seen by Doug in decades.

The afternoon was clear and warm when we rolled into Silver Creek. We pumped up the tubes and floated the "s" curves, grinning like school kids as the trout hit the surface chasing mayflies.

Doug tubing Silver Creek

Monday, we woke to a frosty Idaho September morning and headed east. We rolled into Last Chance, booked our shuttle, and set in at the top of Box Canyon on the Henry's Fork.

Unfortunately, the powers that be had just dropped the river from 750 CFS to 550 CFS, and while we caught plenty of smaller trout we didn't see the big boys we came for. Rather than calling it a total waste, we lit cigars, popped a few beers and cracked ourselves up chatting with the guides and sports sharing the river with us.

Doug nymphing "The Box"

We spent the evening at the TroutHunter bar in Last Chance, stuffing ourselves and getting warmed up for a cool night on the Buffalo River, a tributary of the Henry's Fork. When finally rolling into the sack, we were treated with wolves howling...one of the most eerie yet wonderful sounds I've ever heard.

Tuesday, we checked our bits and pieces to insure the wolves hadn't devoured us, packed the rig and busted out to the Madison. We had intended to hit the Warm River to Ashton stretch of the Henry's Fork, but with the water levels dropping we thought we'd have better odds at big brownies on the Madison.

Last year at this time, the Madison was a boulder field. We literally banged the boat the entire 16 river miles. The year, however, the river was running higher and the fishing was good.

Doug working a seam on the Madison

A beautiful Madison River rainbow

Clouds rolling on the Madison

Tuesday night we were wiped - the Madison wears you out, and an entire day splitting duty working the sticks will cause you to turn in early. We camped just above Earthquake Lake, and were treated to bull elk bugling at last light. I was awakened, though, around 3 AM by something rather large "sniffing" around my tent. Now, I am choosing to believe it was a bear attracted by my rather rancid pepperoni breath, but given that I wasn't able to find any prints the next morning I'll have to just speculate.

Wednesday morning we busted camp and headed south into Yellowstone. The weather was warm and overcast, and while we were excited to wet a line the park always makes for amazing scenery and is a perfect place to bum around.

Gibbon Falls

The view from atop the drive between Canyon Village and Tower Falls

Throughout the drive we were treated to amazing scenery and wildlife - bear, moose, elk, and of course buffalo.

Buffalo along the Lamar River

One of our goals was to land the only native trout in the park, the Yellowstone Cutthroat. Most of the rivers had been stocked with browns and rainbows, but some of the upper tributaries held these elusive trout.

We camped at the Slough Creek campground, just above where Slough Creek meets the Lamar River. Slough Creek had been blocked by a large rock slide years ago, and this had prevented the introduced trout from migrating upstream and provided the Yellowstone cutt's a safe haven.

Rock slide on Slough Creek

The route we chose to hike in was, to be understated, strenuous. We had to pick our way along the boulders, scrambling up while wearing waders and carrying our rods. However, the meadow was certainly worth it.

Doug hiking into the meadow at Slough Creek

The fishing was amazing - sight casting to 16 inch cutt's, pouring through the fly box until a winner was found.

Doug wrestling with a fiesty Yellowstone Cutthroat

Beautiful native trout

Release

On the hike out, we passed a wolf kill. Judging by the size of the rack, this had been an enormous bull. For whatever reason, call it trout bum fever, I was convinced I needed to strap the rack on the front of the drift boat, but fortunately Doug persuaded me otherwise.

The next morning we spoke with a few folks standing beside two foot spotting scopes watching a wolf pack meander along the hillside above camp.

Wolf kill!

We made our way west, through Mammoth and then down through the upper rim of the caldera before cruising into the Firehole basin. While the Firehole holds smaller fish, the scenery alone is worth the price of admission.

The cloud cover had been heavy, and after an hour or so of fishing we were treated with a surreal snow fall on the river. It only lasted a half hour to forty five minutes, but was amazing to be out in.

Snowfall on the Firehole

Looking for the size 22's

Friday morning we busted out of West Yellowstone and headed west towards Last Chance; our intent had been to float the Box Canyon again, but when we learned that the river had again dropped to 450 CFS we opted instead to play around at the Harriman Ranch section of the Henry's Fork and then move on to Silver Creek.

Doug casting to a pod of enormous rolling rainbows

The bugs were thick at Silver Creek, with a light cloud cover and warm temps bringing the trout to the surface. We threw baetis and callibaetis dries for the afternoon before swapping the light rods for 6 weights and streamers.

Afternoon on Silver Creek

We proceeded to work the water around camp, Doug working downstream me working up. All I managed to catch was the ire of a family of beavers, scaring the bejesus out of me with tremendous tall "slaps" about every five minutes. Doug, however, landed an honest 22" brown, and then capped that with a brown just a few inches shorter.

That night was cold - the clouds had rolled on, and we were treated to clear skies and shooting stars.

Of course, the temps Saturday morning hovered in the mid to upper teens, which made the debate to crawl out of the sleeping bag at first light and swing for brownies a tough one.

We again pumped up the tubes and floated the "s" curves; however, with the sun shining and the temps rocketing, the bugs didn't cooperate and surface action was sporadic at best. We hunkered down and waited to see if anything came off...

Waiting for the hatch

Around 2 PM, we packed it in and broke down our gear. Someday's, it just doesn't happen...

I dropped Doug off in Boise Saturday afternoon and headed back to the ranch north of Pendleton. Had a wonderful home cooked meal, took a shower, and then busted back down the Gorge to meet A and E. By the time I rolled into the driveway, I'd logged over 2,000 miles in just over a week, and I was excited to see the girls.

scott

2006-08-31T08:09:00.000-07:00

With the recent drop in temperature, I was hopeful that one of my favorite winter steelhead fisheries might get into shape for a shot at some summers. This river is largely fed by the year round glaciers, which make it a mess during warm summer months. However, the rumor of a large run in the tri-river basin made it too tempting to pass up.

Unfortunately, I think I was just a few days too early - while it had been cooling down on the mountain, the river will still need a few days to clear up. Regardless, I swung flies all morning hoping to lure a steelie up...

Heading back to the pickup for a coffee refill, stumbled across this rather "fresh" scat. It wasn't here just two hours earlier and I was currently standing in the middle of the berry thicket.

Spent the afternoon exploring some of the upper stretches of the river. This section is closed to steelheading, as the ODFW only moves natives above the dam, however it is open to catch and release fly fishing only during trout season.

Given that the river is still open for trout through the end of October, I might have to sneak out in the next few weeks as overnight temps drop even further and chase summer steelies and trout for a day or two...

scott

2006-07-31T08:38:00.000-07:00

Well, I took a week off, loaded up the car and the girls, and made our annual trek east to work wheat harvest for my father-in-law.

Steve farms just north of Pendleton; the ranch has been in the family for three generations, and while the technology has changed the process has not. All total, he farms just under two thousand acres, and recently transitioned 600 of that into the Federal Conservation Reserve Program (CRP). That being said, Steve is farming about 600 acres a year, cutting his harvest time from almost 3 weeks to a long week and a half.

This is Elsa's second harvest, and she, of course, has a great time...

Elsa enjoying lunch in the field with the boss, my brother-in-law Matt, and mom...

Riding in the "yom-bine" with Papa...

I split my time working for Steve to assist Amy's Uncle with roofing his cabin on the Umatilla. Mark and Gail suffered a wicked fire last fall, completing burning their cabin to the ground. He just finished framing it in and is in the process of sealing it up before winter...

It wasn't all work, as Mark has 5 acres all along the river with excellent trout pools...to beat the 110 degree heat we did some snorkeling and found several spawning salmon in the deeper holes.

Elsa, of course, is a trout bum in training and was obsessed with petting the little redsides as we removed the #14 adams...

scott

2006-07-20T07:30:00.000-07:00

It had been a while since I fished with Jason. We fished for years together, had some crazy adventures, but for the past year or so we couldn't line up schedules. So, it was great when we got a day on the books.

We met up after work Monday, threw gear in the Toyota, and fought traffic. Rolling into Mecca right at sunset, we rigged up with some caddis dries and briefly cast to rising trout in the back eddy just above camp. The evening was cool and clear, with sporadic shooting stars and entertaining conversation drifting over from the teenage group of rafters on the other side of camp...there are a lot of ages I look back fondly on, but I can honestly say you could not pay me to live through 13 again.

The next morning was sunny and hot from the get go. We knew it was going to be an early game, as once the sun hit the water the river would shut down. We hit the Warm Springs launch early, 7 AM, and were into trout within a few casts. Big fish, working some of the water close to the bank and cover.

We had a great morning, but once the day heated up and the sun was on the river, it shut down. We still managed a few trout, but after about 10:30 it was slow. Of course, a beer and hefty lunch didn't help our motivation out, and we spent more time lounging in the shade watching rafters during the afternoon than actively pursuing trout.

We hit the Trout Creek takeout around 4, kicked back and loaded up the boat. I don't know when I'll hit the D again, or when I might get a chance to be out with Jason, but I had a great day on the water and am already dreaming of fall days and blue winged olives...

scott

2006-06-26T09:05:00.000-07:00

We drove east Thursday, arriving at the ranch early afternoon. We intended to take Elsa fishing with Amy's dad Friday on my favorite small water, but being that Amy and Elsa weren't feeling 100% Steve and I did the only thing a compassionate father can - we went without them.

We left the ranch just after lunch, and after the 40 minute drive rigged up and hiked up river. The temp was in the low 80's, the sun was glaring, and I was itching to throw a line.

I was hoping to catch the tail end of the golden stone hatch, and while there were plenty of golden shucks on the banks I didn't see any of the big bugs in the air. Of course, the trout were still keyed in on them, and for the better part of the afternoon I just fished a yellow stimulator with a pheasant tail dropper.

This river is wonderful pocket water, so I focus on casting just in front of or behind structure, and usually you get a take. I have a few preferred spots, one being a series of pools following two car sized boulders. On the lower pool I had a nice redside grab the dry and head to deep water.

Using light 6x tippet, I play the trout for a minute or so, not wanting to be too aggressive in reeling him in, when my 3 weight suddenly doubles over and line rapidly starts spooling out. Again, I try and ease the trout in, but when I get him up to the surface I am surprised to see my 12" redside being mauled by a bull trout easily 18" in length, maybe more. He's got him just behind the gills, and is just thrashing violently.

Now I am thinking to myself - how can I land both? The bull sees me and, trout still in his mouth, heads back to the deeper water behind the large boulder. Putting light pressure on the line, I again coax both up to the surface. Slowly, I work both to the shallow water and am preparing to try and tail the bull when, in about 6 to 8 inches of water just a few feet in front of me, he let's go...

I pull in the poor redside; he's not in too bad of shape, a little bruised, but I slowly revive him in the cool shallow water, and he finally swims off.

I reel in, sit down, and laugh. I've had big bows chase and nip at smaller trout on my line, but nothing like this.

The rest of the afternoon was blissful, continuing to throw dries to eager redsides. We finally packed it in around 5, walking back to the rig and driving back into town to meet Amy and Elsa for dinner.

scott

2006-06-08T08:57:00.000-07:00

It was a tough decision - the Salmon fly hatch is starting to roll on the Lower D, but the river has been running high and crowds are not my thing. However, if you hit it right, the hatch will put a smile on your face that will last for weeks.

But, did we want endure the high water and massive crowds?

Kevin and I opted for a more relaxed day, and hit the Metolius. Rumor had it that the green drakes were close, and quite honestly a day spent throwing the 4 weight around sounded perfect.

We rolled into Camp Sherman late morning, grabbed few green drake emergers from the Camp Sherman store, and headed down river. While there were a fair number of people around, most seemed to be hiking the river or preparing for a wild weekend at the Sisters Rodeo. We had the river to ourselves for the majority of the day.

We picked our way downriver, throwing dries and small nymphs through seams and along the brushy, undercut banks. It all looked fishy, but despite several takes neither of us managed a trout to hand.

We gradually worked our way down to Wizard Falls, where we finally encountered a few other anglers camped around the Dolly Hole for last light. Despite a few green drakes out and about, the hatch never really materialized and the fish were definitely not keying on them.

Just gives me an excuse to get back over here...

scott

2006-06-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

I fished this coastal river last Sunday, the day after it opened, and despite pouring rain and chilly temps I had an absolute blast. So much so that I couldn't wait to head out of work early Friday and do the same that afternoon.

This time, though, I swapped the 2 weight for the 0 weight and brought my camera.

Armed with a size 14 parachute adams and a size 16 pheasant tail dropper, I moved my way down river and cast behind every rock and log, drifted my flies through foam lines and behind riffles.

While I didn't see the prolific pale evening duns hatching as I did the previous weekend, there was decent numbers of smaller tan caddis and what I believe to be Pale Morning Dun spinners.

The river is only open for another week and a half, so I'll see if I can sneak one more day in before it closes for the season.

2006-05-26T19:51:00.000-07:00

I picked Doug up Wednesday morning at the airport. It was very reminiscent of our trip last September, right down to the blue dry bags packed with gear. He threw them in the back of the pickup, jumped in and we headed out to meet the guys at the Welches Fly Shop.

We met Paul, Kevin and Dave in front of the shop, and we were all excited to spend five days kicking around Central Oregon, with no real plan other than chasing trout.

We rolled into the Warm Springs boat launch late morning Wednesday, dropped the boats and hit the river. The D was running around 4100 cubic feet per second - perfect, although a bit off color. We took our time on the short float to Mecca Flats, enjoying the unseasonably high temps and company.

After a great evening at Kevin's place, barbequing and enjoying the setting sun behind the Three Sisters, we hit the Lower D again. Unfortunately, the river had clearly risen overnight, and we later learned it jumped from less than 4100 to over 4800 in 12 hours. With the above average snow pack this winter, and the recent temps pushing 100 degrees, the powers that be were moving water out of the reservoirs in anticipation of a sudden snow melt. The sudden change would no doubt impact the fishing, and while we had a great time floating, the fishing just never really turned on.

Friday we opted to head south through Bend and check out the Fall River. None of us had fished the Fall before (if I had, it had been almost 20 years), and I was looking forward to the challenge of throwing flies in a crystal clear spring creek. Unfortunately, I didn't even see a fish, but the scenery itself was spectacular and worth the drive.

We had heard that the Crooked was still holding steady at 400 cubic feet per second, and while this was higher than we preferred it to be, we made the drive Saturday south of Prineville and up the breathtaking river canyon. Again, the river had spiked overnight, moving from 400 to almost 650 cubic feet per second, however the trout were still taking caddis patterns off the surface and several guys were able to bring a rainbow to hand. We packed it in around 2:30, and hit the Lower Bridge section of the Middle Deschutes on the way back to Kevin's place. The water was again high, overflowing the banks and flooding the flat, but there was a prolific mayfly hatch, many caddis, and even an occasional salmonfly buzzing about.

Sunday was the day we prolonged the inevitable - before heading home, we hit the Foley Waters section of the Middle Deschutes late morning, and spent a few hours swinging emergers and throwing dries. The high water had moved the trout out of the pocket water and made wading treacherous, but the river canyon through that section is one of my favorites and well worth the hike in.

While the fishing was slow, the trip was a blast and a great way to kick off the summer trout season.

scott

2006-04-24T21:07:00.000-07:00

I'm not much of a stillwater fisherman, but when the trout season for rivers and streams is still weeks away and you've got the bug, you pump up the tube and grab the rod.

It's hard - I'm a moving water guy - and all I know is that you look for seams, boulders, anything that can a lair for trout, and you drift a bug through it. For stillwater, I have a terrible time trying to figure out what depth the trout are holding at, patterns, techniques, etc., and Friday was no exception. Still, it was a beautiful day in the Coast range, I was only 30 minutes from my house, and, more importantly, I wasn't at work.

I worked along the standing timber, what had comprised the river bank before the reservoir was built, hoping to coax a cutthroat to a fly. I had what felt like a few subtle takes, but after two hours and fighting a hefty wind, I packed it in.

The headwaters of one of the Coast range's greatest steelhead fisheries pours out of the reservoir, and is only open for trout for two weeks. I've got at least one trip on the books to get up here with a friend, and am hoping to add a few more lazy afternoons with a 2 weight and a dry to the calendar.

Still, it's hard to complain - I wasn't at work, and the day was amazing. Looking back towards the valley, I was rewarded with a wonderful view and I enjoyed the drive back home.

scott

2006-03-16T21:08:00.000-08:00

My phone rang shortly after lunch Tuesday. It was the call I had been waiting all day for. "Hey Scott, it's Doug. Can you leave early?" There's a silly question.

We picked up Dave just after 2, and after a couples of hours behind the wheel rolled into Maupin heading south up the river canyon. The river had dropped quite a bit from when I had been out with Bill a few weeks earlier, and was looking good. We fished for a few hours before setting up camp, then headed into town to hit the 'Bow and wait for Paul.

The good Doctor Pants with a nice redside

Wednesday was great - on the water around 9:30, with a slight cloud cover and nip in the air. We didn't see another boat the entire day, and had a great time seeing what the winter's high water had done to our favorite stops.

View from the peanut gallery

A wonderful Deschutes rainbow

Nothing will put a smile on your face like tussling with a Big D redside

Paul had to roll out Wednesday night, so Doug, Dave and I hunkered down for another tough night at the 'Bow and were eager to explore above Maupin on Thursday.

Thursday arrived with a heavy cloud cover and slight drizzle; we were excited in the hopes of a March Brown or BWO hatch, but it wasn't too be. While we did see a few sporadic caddis and smaller BWO's, the hatch never materialized and it was a nymphing game.

Waiting for the hatch

We packed up late afternoon and headed north, eager to meet again for our trip in May to celebrate a friend's 50th birthday and explore some new water in Central Oregon.

Clouds rolling on the Big D

scott

2006-03-13T05:48:00.000-08:00

What a great weekend.

Amy's brother, Matt, had a birthday in early March, and to celebrate my father-in-law Steve wanted to spend a weekend chasing steelies. Twist my arm.

We headed out early on Saturday, driving out the gorge to meet up with some family friends, Dan and his son-in-law Don. I had fished the same river with Dan and Steve last year, and was looking forward to seeing Dan again and enduring some more ribbing about the "elitist fly fisherman" that I am.

On the river, the temp was hovering in the mid 30's with a light snowfall. We split up, with the guys heading down river looking for more suitable hardware water, leaving the unfished fly run open.

I started at the top and worked my way down; towards the tail end of the run, I felt a subtle pause in the drift and lifted the rod - fish on! A beautiful, bright native hen, stripping line and putting a huge grin on my face. I finally coaxed her in and released her, then took a minute or two to sit on a rock.

I managed another brief hookup in that same run, but unfortunately it was all too brief - I lost him within a matter of seconds as he gave me the head shake. I reeled in and headed downriver to meet up with Dan.

The Boys - Don, Dan, Steve, and Matt

The five of us headed into town to meet the ladies for lunch, and returned to the river afterwards for the rest of the afternoon. Unfortunately for me, no additional luck, but a great day on the water.

Sunday, Matt, Steve and I headed west into the Coast range. Steve and I had been on the same river in early December checking out spawning salmon, and were curious to know if the recent rain had brought any fresh winter steelies in.

The river was low and clear, and while steelheading was slow Steve was able to land one nice trout. Of course, who catches trout on a steelhead trip?

Towards the end of the day, Matt had a nice take, but the fish hit hard and ran fast, breaking him off almost immediately. Thus is steelheading...

A happy birthday Matt, and hope to do it again next year.

scott

2006-02-27T20:33:00.000-08:00

Finally, back to the Big D.

I hadn't fished the river since late October; since then, I had done some fishing, but there is nothing that compares to drifting big water and soaking in the river canyon.

Late December the river had exploded - moving from an average of 6,000 cubic feet per second to almost 40,000 - and I was curious to know what that flow had done to the river as well as to the insect and trout populations.

Bill and I fished above town Friday, and were treated to party cloudy skies, no wind, and a great afternoon of fishing. The river had been altered in some spots, but overall it was unchanged.

Saturday morning was cold; our favorite breakfast spot was closed, so we were forced to improvise - stale donuts, beef jerky, and coffee made on the bow.

Breakfast of champions!

Below the White River, the high water flows had made more of an impact. Banks were severely cut, with drop offs ranging from 3 to 10 feet, and making you look before you leap. Whole gravel bars had been pushed and moved, or eroded entirely. This is great for the river, as it will flush a lot of the silt and accumulated debris out and improve trout and insect habitat in the long run, but it certainly takes some getting used to as we learn new spots.

On our way out, we stopped and snapped a few pics of Sherars Falls.

Drove home north on 197, enjoying a great sunset looking towards Mt. Hood.

Can't wait to get back out there again!

scott

2006-02-19T09:21:00.000-08:00

I picked Jon up at 6 AM Saturday; it was in the mid 20's, and when the wind howled you questioned what you were doing out of bed. I had three pairs or long underwear on, 3 pairs of socks, and 4 shirts, so if I was going to spend the day chasing steelhead I might as well be warm.

We arrived around 7 at the trailhead, rigged up and started our way up river. I had never fished this coastal stream before and didn't know quite what to expect, but it was beautiful. While I had heard very little of this river, what I had heard was be prepared to hike in and for technical fishing.

We may have been a bit early, as I didn't spot any fish and Jon only two; of course, one of the two he estimated at 17 to 20 pounds, so steelhead of that size will more than make up for a lack of large numbers.

Jon working a seam

One of the many creeks flowing into the river

All in all, a wonderful day. Crisp and cold, with the sun shining down and warming our backs. I hadn't wet a line since Thanksgiving, and hadn't focused exclusively on steelhead since last February, so a wonderful return to moving water.

scott

2006-02-05T21:37:00.000-08:00

Trying to take a break from a severe case of cabin fever, A, E, and I took a drive Saturday afternoon. I had been doing some serious dorking out with Google Earth, and had stumbled upon what appeared to be possible trout water. I was excited to investigate and see if it were true...

Around 1500 feet elevation, we ran into a early February snowfall, which is rare for the coast range, however we were treated to a beautiful piece of water.

I can't wait to get up there come trout season!

Until then, back to the vise...

scott

2006-01-26T11:04:00.000-08:00

I can't believe how long it has been since I've wet a line!

The rivers are a mess, and just starting to get back into shape.

I've developed a nervous twitch in my right arm, which, after extensive consideration and my clever deductive powers, I've determined is associated with my casting arm not being put to use and muscle atrophy.

So, what have I been doing during the high water? All of my fly boxes are overflowing, I don't have any current house projects (aside from pumping water from my basement), so I was forced out to the shop.

Several years ago, I started on a wooden porch swing for the house in Sisters. I put about 50 or 60 hours into it before getting burned out; I'm so delirious from lack of fishing that I actually dug it out from the pile of trim it had been “holding” and set about finishing it. I got most of it sanded, I just need to install hardware and shoot it with some varnish. I think that Amy just about had a heart attack when she saw me working on it.

Also, Elsa is just about ready to walk, so I’ve been busy chasing a very active 14 month old little girl around! My new year's resolution is to take her in the drift boat for her first float this year, so once the day time temps pick up look out Lower Deschutes!

I’ve got a trip on the books for the end of February, and another in mid-March, so I can’t wait!

scott

2005-12-05T07:39:00.000-08:00

Amy's dad, Steve, and I drove west towards the coast this Sunday. I had asked a friend of mine if he could suggest an area where we could hike in and look for spawners, and per his suggestion we did a little exploring on one of the coastal tributaries.

In addition to numerous salmon, we even saw a few bright winter steelies, and I cannot wait to get out there and swing flies with the 8 weight!

2005-11-28T14:46:00.000-08:00

We had a great Thanksgiving weekend; the three of us headed over the hill Tuesday, and got into Sisters late that afternoon. It was relatively clear as we drove over the Santiam Pass, however around Suttle Lake the fog enveloped us and the temps remained below freezing until Friday.

On Wednesday we met some friends for breakfast, and then I headed to the Metolius. I had only fished the Met once before, a wonderful snowy winter day several years ago, however that brief excursion had resulted in nothing more than the big skunk-ola and cold fingers.

I have been very interested in hitting the Met again; a glorious day on Idaho's Silver Creek rekindled my desire to fish spring creeks, and the Metolius was at the top of the list. Fortunately, I had a gentleman offer to meet me at Camp Sherman and show me around the river. Mac, a New York transplant, was very gracious and gave me a quick tour from the Lower Bridge up to the Camp Sherman store providing a good overview of the river.

Waiting for the famed Blue Winged Olives

The Met is commonly fished in two manners - one is with a delicate presentation of tiny dries using a 4 weight and 15 feet of 6x, while the other is swinging a 4 inch size 2 double bunny through the deep pools with an 8 weight. I decided to try my hand at both methods, and strung up a dry fly rod as well as my steelhead rod for streamers.

Trout sipping emergers

The hatch started around 12:30 PM, with a few gentle rises announcing that the bugs were out. Mac and I fished his hand tied size 20 Parachute BWO's, however despite several takes I was unable to successfully hook up. I then decided to try my hand at swinging streamers.

Looking upriver towards the "Idiot Hole"

The double bunny is a large, heavy fly, no fun to cast especially when combined with a sink tip. You more or less lob the fly up river, mend line, and let it swing through the deep troughs and overhangs. I had several takes, including one tug that really perked me up, but I was unable to keep the big bulls on. Around 2:30 Mac and I pow-wowed, and decided that the hatch was never going to really ramp up due to the cold weather, so we called it a day and I headed back to meet the girls.

Downriver towards the "Dolly Hole"

Our friends Matt and Dargan as well as Matt's dad Taylor were meeting us Wednesday night. Taylor had just flown in from Maine that Sunday, and was excited to check out Central Oregon for the first time. Both Matt and Taylor are geology fiends, and despite my inability to retain anything that doesn't involve the word "trout", I always end up learning a thing or two.

Friday we boys headed south of town towards Squaw Creek, and proceeded to spend a few hours shooting clays. We ran into snow that afternoon, and were greeted with several inches in town Saturday morning.

The Mudge boys

Taylor showing us how it is done

I had a great time exploring the Met, and I've got the bug to fish it again. I hope to get over there December or January, but we'll see how the winter steelhead run is before I make any committments!

scott

2005-10-18T11:53:00.000-07:00

What month is it? June?

I met up with Bill and his dad, John, Friday afternoon at Bill's place. I had met John at Bill and Emily's wedding last year, and was looking forward to spending a weekend on the water with the Kennedy boys. We loaded up, laughed off Emily's suggestion to be home early on Sunday, and headed out.

After a quick burger at Calamity Jane's, we made it to Mecca. Wonderful evening - we threw the tents up, grabbed a few beers and some conversation, and called it a night.

It rained briefly that evening, but the next morning we woke to sunshine and caddis.

The Kennedy Boys working a nice seam

There were a fair number of anglers out, a lot of guides and clients, however they were mostly in pursuit of steelies. We stuck with the trout rods, and had good success nymphing. Goldens, black stones and CDC prince nymphs all produced consistently.

Bill working the sticks like a madman!

Yours truly netting a nice trout

We moseyed down river, finally making our way to Stangland to set up camp for the evening. Despite heavy river traffic, we only had to share with one other party. We set up camp, grabbed our rods, and moved up river to the top of the island fishing our way back to camp.

John headed down the back eddy below Stangland, while Bill and I fished our way down in front of camp. We witnessed an enormous steelie surface, leaping a solid 2 feet in the air, before crashing down. Truly amazing.

Clouds rolling in Saturday evening

Mr. Kennedy on a nice riffle

Evening descending on the river canyon

We woke Sunday to light clouds, which burned off by 9 AM. We were all shedding layers as the temps crawled into the low 70's, awesome weather by any account, but for the middle of October astounding. Good solid caddis, both size 14/16 as well as the larger october caddis, as well as a cloud of PMD's coming off late morning. As excited as the hatch made us, the trout never keyed in and surface activity remained sparse.

In the pursuit of a redside...

We stopped off and on before the take out at Trout Creek, finally getting off the water around 3 PM. Bill had contractors showing up at his place Monday, and moving furniture at midnight after two days on the water is a terrible way to round out the evening. That being said, I dropped them off and high tailed it out of there before I got roped into working...

Me enjoying the ride

All in all, a great trip.

Thanks guys

scott

2005-09-18T20:40:00.000-07:00

Ah, nothing better than spending a week trout bumming around Idaho and Montana - what better to ring in your 32nd birthday?

Doug flew into Boise on Friday the 9th, and after grabbing his bags we headed out. The only commitment was his flight back to San Diego the following Thursday, which, for two resourceful guys like us, presented us with plenty of options. Doug has spent a fair amount of time on these waters, and was very gracious to show a green horn like myself the ropes. We both came loaded for bear, with plenty of rods and more than enough flies between the two of us.

Our first destination - Silver Creek, just outside of Ketchum, Idaho. Silver Creek is an amazing spring creek, renowned for it's challenging gin clear waters, which require a delicate presentation and 7x tippet.

A beautiful evening on Silver Creek...

After a fun morning of float tubing around Silver Creek, we headed east towards Island Park. Our next destination was the Henry's Fork - we were going to float two sections. First up, the Box Canyon section, which is a 3.5 mile float down to Last Chance, Idaho. We actually did this drift twice, and, despite hitting plenty of rocks, I couldn't shake Doug out of the boat.

Doug fishing a nice seam in "The Box"

After a great day of fishing the Box Canyon section, we headed to the Harriman Ranch section of the Henry's Fork. With the recent cold weather though, the dry fly action was slow and we instead opted for a beer and a fat dinner in town.

Moonrise over the Harriman Ranch

On Monday, we hit the Warm River to Ashton section of the Henry's Fork. This section is known to hold smaller fish, but Doug quickly proved that rumor wrong. Right out of the gate he brought one of the largest bows I have ever seen to the boat; on our home waters of the Lower Deschutes this would have passed for a decent steelhead.

Doug fighting an enormous rainbow

After a great day on the Henry's Fork, it was time to leave Idaho behind and head to Big Sky Country, where we were to drift the 17 mile section of the Madison from Lyon Bridge to McAtee. We pointed the pickup north and rolled into Montana Monday night; we spent a glorious evening under clear skies, and had the pleasure of waking up to chilly 20 degree temps and fresh snow in the mountains. Our hopes of throwing hoppers all day were shattered, as the recent cold spell froze the little buggers out, however we had good luck swinging streamers in the morning and nymphing during the day.

Clouds over the Madison

After a long day on the Madison, we headed south to West Yellowstone. Grabbing the only hotel room left in town (it had no heat, we slept in our sleeping bags), we drove into the park fueled on coffee and donuts for a day of fishing and sightseeing.

The park was, in a word, remarkable. Amy and I had visited several years before, and I again was amazed at how spectacular it is. For me, it was the highlight of the trip.

Steam rising off the Madison in the Park

Buffalo along the Firehole

'living in a van down by the river..."

Hot Springs meeting the Firehole

Fishing the Firehole was nirvana; it was the warmest day of the trip, with temps in the upper 60's to 70. The warm weather brought the caddis out in force, and Doug and I spent several hours casting caddis dries to rising brown and rainbow trout with 3 weights.

The Firehole

One of the hot springs with the Firehole in the background

We buzzed out of the park late afternoon, and caught a quick bite to eat before heading back to Silver Creek to wrap up our trip. While in the parking lot, we came across what may be the best looking trout bum rig in existence. It was easy to pick the owner out in the bar, as his hat matched his dash.

A true trout bum rig!

We spent our last night camping at Silver Creek, and proceeded to wake up at first light and get into fish. Doug swung a size 6 zonker Thursday morning, and landed 4 fish before we even had a cup of coffee.

Doug with a nice Silver Creek Brown...

9 AM the Callibaetis Hatch started coming off in force, and for several hours we enjoyed throwing tiny dries to rising trout.

Match the hatch...

A nice Silver Creek bow taken on a size 18 callibaetis dry...

The skies are clearing over "The Creek"

We drove back to Boise Thursday afternoon; Doug back to San Diego, me to Pendleton to meet Amy and Elsa for the Round Up.

Great fishing, great company, great trip!

scott