Since the first day of Fall Quarter, I've had Dec. 15th marked on my calendar as "the" day. Classes: done, finals: done, Seattle: done. No question, I was ready to return home last night to my preferred schedule of sleeping, eating, and fishing (in no particular order). Of course I was able to get out fishing a few times during the quarter on Saturdays, but conditions were marginal almost every time, and I spent a fair bit of time on new water moreso prospecting than fishing anyway. Today would be the first dedicated full day of care-free steelheading since September. Believe me, I was ready.
I arrived at the river around 8:00, holding back a little later than normal with the icy roads. Even then, everything was frozen solid, and I took my time driving. Not walking, though--I hurried down to the river as soon as the rod was in my hand. When I made it into the first area I found the flow right about where I expected it to be, but the water had a little more color than I had anticipated. No complaints on that, though, as it made me all the more confident to tie on the big silver spinners later in the day (more on that in a minute). Let's just say it felt good to be steelheading again.
The first hole looked fishy but produced nothing. Since my goal was to cover lots of water today with the low flows and clearly defined holding water, I moved on quickly. I was looking forward to the next hole anyhow, as it's one that's been good to me over the years. And, to be sure, when I stepped in at the tailout, I was just about shaking with anticipation.
I moved up fairly quickly pitching a thickly plumed 1/16 oz. pink and white (not a prawn holder) under a small cork float and got to the top without a bump. Rather than changing up, though, I decided to work back down with the same setup in the softer water just in case I'd missed a fish that had hunkered down off the main seam. Sure enough, a few casts down the soft water side-lay, the float sank under.
I set back hard and felt weight, followed by a heavy THUMP THUMP THUMP. Uh-oh. See, what I hadn't mentioned is that today I was test fishing with a summer rod--essentially a noodle rod--built by Joe, as I'm thinking about having him build me one for next summer. In retrospect the irony kills me because Joe and I talked about big fish on weak rods when he dropped it off yesterday. I knew I was in for it now.
I set the drag as tight as I confidently could considering the 8 lb. line, and leaned back for the long haul. The fish was peeling line, but she had quite a distance to go before I was going to get worried, so rather than chase her and fall (as I've done before) I held my ground and cranked like a madman when she turned. I got her out in front, but still hadn't seen any shape. I wasn't going to either, as she took another hard run. Thoughts of steelhead chowder were in my mind from the hookset on, but as this fish continued to dominate I became increasingly skeptical that it was hatchery at all. Guess it just seemed a little early for natives.
My face must have lit up when I finally saw the fish, though. She was big and two-toned chrome, with pointed and flawless fins. It then became a race to get the camera out, get a couple pics, and release her asap. She didn't create too much commotion once in the shallows and rested cooperatively while I readied the camera with the one free hand.
I estimated her right between 13-14 lbs. She was seriously built, and I couldn't get my hand around her tail wrist, but she wasn't fully matured yet, and her belly will probably gain some weight in the next month or so. She was a perfect native winter hen:
She bolted with one swipe of the tail when I took her back out into the main current. I was totally stoked--the day couldn't be off to a much better start.
But this day just kept getting better, as it never has for me here before. It turns out that this river gets a pretty healthy push of "fall" fish, "swinters," "Halloween Steelhead," whatever you want to call them, and though I'd talked to guys who claimed to have some pretty stellar days with them before, I myself had never caught any steelhead in late fall (and it technically is still fall) but what I would call an old summer run. That changed today.
On the next flat, this time right on the seam, my float popped under again and I set back to see a fish cartwheel out of the water with my jig firmly imbedded in his upper lip. He made several more jumps, and a couple blazing runs before coming to hand for a quick photo and release:
This fish, by far the most colored of the day (looks a little like an Upper Columbia fish with the purplish stripe), didn't need to be taken into the main current, as he took off the second I unhooked him. I love seeing those explosive releases. Unfortunately, the "low battery" light came on after this shot, so this is the last piece of evidence for the day. I really need a new camera.
I headed upriver and crossed to work back down the other side. I got to the turnaround point without another takedown, so I switched over to the trusty #4 silver w/ green lure tape (Fisherman's Shack style, except for the rvrfshr hook) to work back up to the top).
I pitched it in under the limbs on the opposite bank and was just as soon hit hard by another ballistic, aerobatic fall fish. (If you know what river I'm talking about, you can bet it was starting to get surreal at this point.) This one was a fairly bright hen with a rosy gillplate and she almost got chowderized, but the water was frigid today and the thought of immersing my hands in it for a couple minutes to clean a fish had her unhooked and swimming free in pretty short order.
I continued to work up and only a few casts later was hit again, this time bringing an upstream toss back down through some heavier water. Same thing, a fall buck went airborne and put on a show before coming in for a quick unhooking and release. Unbelievable.
I hit an aggressive buck coho in the next hole up before deciding to turn around and head back downriver and eventually up to the car. On the way I stopped in at a little slot that's always intrigued me but has never produced. Much in the manner of the day, however, it quickly produced a hookup, again on the spinner, this time a... 1-salt winter-run? It was bright, clipped, big enough for chowder yet weak like a typical winter brat. Again, though, I considered the frigid water, and back it went.
I was shaking my head by now. This 1/2 mile stretch of river had kicked out 5 steelhead in under 3 hours. I've fished it for years without ever getting more than 2 in a trip. It's full of suspect pockets and otherwise classic steelhead water, but, in the tradition of most Puget Sound streams, it has simply not held numbers of fish with any consistency. Today was like taking a step back into one of the "good ol' days" stories I've read.
I hiked back up to the car and went into one more area before calling it a day. I found another aggressive buck coho tossing the spinner and had an unidentified follower, but the sun had sunk low behind the high ridge and I wanted to beat the 3 O'clock traffic anyway. Time to head home.
I enjoyed every minute of this trip. Total relaxation after a hectic quarter and move, and a bunch of hard-fighting fish to top it off. I didn't see another angler or vehicle all day. I suppose the two-week crowd has disappeared for the duration of the winter, although I'm sure they'll be back for two more weeks next June.
And don't worry, this has got to be the longest write-up I'll put out all winter. It'd take some doing, and an unimaginable day on the water, to generate any more than I have here.
Andrew
