Marty's Drift October 2005

Desperately Seeking Cutthroat

We were praying for rain as the month of September started. We needed it throughout the West. Joyce and I especially wanted rain to raise and sweeten the rivers near our house on the central Oregon Coast. Salmon waited to make their upstream run to spawn and sea-run cutthroat waited to follow and feast on the salmon eggs. We waited with our 4 and 5 weight rods, bright pink fly patterns and drift boat, ready to encounter these fine trout.

Over Labor Day the weather stayed dry, producing beautiful early fall days. The temperature in the river we fished was nearly 70 degrees. There wouldn't be any fish moving in these conditions.

On September 7 th I flew to Denver to work the Fly-Fishing Retailer Show. ClackaCraft’s truck driver, Doug Buzzel, and Idaho Falls saleman, John Stenersen, worked the show, too. These shows are always interesting because I get to see so many people in the fly fishing industry, some of whom I have known and done business with for 20 or more years.

The show was also a great opportunity to get to know Doug and John. Doug likes to fly fish for trout throughout the West, and he has favorite places in Colorado, Idaho and Wyoming. John likes to fish for trout too. During our July catalog photo shoot I witnessed his skill fishing for trout on the South Fork of the Snake. John likes to fish for steelhead as well. He fishes the Salmon and Clearwater rivers in Idaho and has done an annual Deschutes River float every year for years. Like me, he keeps a close watch on the Columbia and Snake River dam counts.

Together we watched the Weather Channel each day, hoping for cooler, damp weather on the West Coast. Reports of rain held promise of better conditions for cutthroat fishing.

When I landed in Portland on Saturday evening I could tell the weather forecast had been wrong. Everything was dry and the skies were bright.

On Sunday, September 11 th, Joyce and I took our boat out to the Carver boat ramp on the Clackamas River to join a group of volunteers in a river clean-up effort. Over a hundred of people came to clean up the trash and litter that had been left by the crowds of summer: white trash, low life, pond scum, swimmers, sun bathers, inner-tubers and beer guzzlers.

Over 2.5 tons of garbage was picked up by the volunteer group of kayak and rafting club members and fishermen. The rafts and drift boats became the garbage barges. The people in kayaks maneuvered into spots hard to beach a drift boat and filled garbage bags.

It is really hard to believe the trash people leave. I get completely disgusted. You should have seen the number of Pampers that were picked up. And of course the ubiquitous cans and bottles. It makes me want to work to make Pampers illegal, go back to using cloth diapers, and put a $1.00 deposit on any beverage container.

We still had no rain by the third week of September. That is when Ed Rizzolo and Richard Dean visited from Houston. Our plan had been to fish the Oregon Coast for sea-run cutthroat, but we had no rain, so we went to the Deschutes River instead to try for rainbow. You notice I said try. I’ll admit that I’m not a good trout fisherman, but there was nothing happening on the Deschutes while we were there. Normally there is a big caddis hatch every evening on the Deschutes in the fall. While we were there; practically nothing. In three days I’ll bet I didn’t see three fish rise.

We fished near Maupin for two days then we went to Warm Springs and Mecca Flat. Things were just not happening.

It was disappointing that the fishing was so slow, but we had a good time visiting with Ed and Richard and sharing camp dinners and good beer in the evenings. Ed and Richard were pretty concerned during their stay because hurricane Rita was headed for their home in Houston; fortunately it veered away and caused no damage there.

In mid-October I attended the Fly Fishing Festival in Redding, California put on by the Northern California Council of the Federation of Fly Fishers. This is a great opportunity for people to get good instruction on fly casting, fly tying and fly fishing techniques. The Festival features a great itinerary of classes on all aspects of fly fishing, taught by highly qualified instructors. In the main exhibition hall there are on-going fly tying demonstrations for two days.

I’ve been tying steelhead flies for 30 years, but while I watched Gene Kaczmarek and Jim Victorine, I learned new tricks and techniques.

The Festival ends with a banquet and auction. The next day I drove from Redding to Weaverville, on the Trinity River. That afternoon Bob Norman met me there, and we fished for steelhead.

The water had just been dropped on the Trinity and it was running somewhere around 300 csf. At that water level, the advantages of a fiberglass boat really became apparent. We slid right through the shallow spots with little effort.

I’m always amazed by the way you fish for steelhead on the Trinity. It is definitely trout fishing for steelhead. Bob rigged our outfits with a big bushy strike indicator, an egg pattern and a size 14 bead-head nymph. We used Flash-Back PT’s, Copper Johns and Red Copper Johns.

The first fish that I landed was a steelhead jack. It was just 15 or 16 inches. I guess that’s as big a fish as I can handle. Bob and I were out of the boat wading shortly after landing that fish when I hooked a second steelhead. This one was bigger for sure. I was standing in the middle of some fast water when I set the hook. Before I could get to shore Bob had a fish on, too. Doubles with steelhead are pretty rare. For a couple minutes we were doing a good imitation of Laurel and Hardy or a Chinese fire drill.

I was in the upstream position, and of course Bob’s fish made a dash upstream. The fish I hooked ran down. Somehow we managed to pass without getting tangled. The fish I hooked went into my backing, but never cleared the surface, just deep, strong, long runs. I was gaining line and felt I was in control when the line went slack. I reeled in to find the nymph was gone. It looked like a clean cut. Probably the leader was cut on the fish’s teeth. Bob had his own set of problems. His fish had wrapped him neatly around four or five rocks and also was long gone.

We regrouped, tied on new flies and started over. Every now and then a steelhead rolled. We were pretty sure we were amongst a good pod of fish. My indicator twitched and I set. Line melted away and once again I saw my backing leave the rod tip. And once again my line went slack. When I reeled in the hook on the Copper John was straight. That’s the problem and the challenge of fishing for steelhead with trout flies.

It wasn’t long till Bob hooked another fish. This one stayed in the deeper part of the pool and didn’t get around any rocks or obstacles. The hook held and Bob landed the fish.

We expected to see a steelhead and for a moment we were confused and bewildered, then Bob said, “It’s a coho.”

In Alaska, where there are lots of silver salmon, most of the time they are fished for with large flashy flies. This northern California coho took a small trout nymph.

We were able to see steelhead in nearly all the runs we fished. We didn’t hook fish in all of those runs, but we did hook several more. As we floated and waded a warm autumn sun shone. Chinook salmon scattered before the shadow of the boat and California quail called from the hillsides along the river.

The weather was too nice and the fishing was too good. You don’t really deserve to have days this nice, but you certainly remember these kind of days, and you might start to think they should all be this good. They are days to treasure.