Fishing the Rivers of Washington State Updated 16 Jan 2002

Skykomish River, January 2002
It snowed last night and much of the day today, the air was 34 degrees but mercifully the water was right about 42 degrees. Luckily there was no wind so with a bit of sunshine the conditions were good. The water has been going in and out but with the cold snap it was dropping and almost clear, a very nice green tea color. Just about perfect for a cold winters day. With the water clarity and good light I tied on a prototype Green Highlander Spey, a fly I am almost ready to put into production and expect to be one of the best spey flies ever. The Gold and Chartreuse colors showed up clearly from a good distance and I was more and more confident with every cast. I placed the casts just on the edge of the seam, just barely upstream, which allowed the fly to sink to about 4 feet deep which was perfect for the 7 feet of water I was fishing. I cast and swung my way down the run with every expectation that a fish would come to the fly. Nothing at all at the end so I went back to the top and switched to a Green Butt Spey. This was carefully fished all the way down with no result. I sat down for a bit of lunch, some coffee and a fine cigar, it is such a joy to live in Washington. After warming up a bit I put back on the Highlander and went back to the top. About halfway through the run something did not feel right as the fly swung through the arc. It was as if some of the weight was missing for a couple of moments. I let it swing all the way in and then made the same cast again and this time a definite pluck, so far so good. The next two casts brought nothing so I stripped the fly in, checked it, and took three steps upstream. The same cast was made again and again the fly got light for a moment during the drift. The next cast the fly got light again and then the big solid pull, fish on! I struck hard to drive the iron in in spite of the heavy tip. I struck a couple more times as the fish pulled away downstream and now I felt good about the hookup. The fish made no effort to come to the surface and also was not frantic about escape. It just continued to pull hard downstream. I worked my way to the bank and reeled down on the beast as I moved to a position to the side rather than above. I put big pressure on and the fish barely moved at all, except for the occasional head shake. I would put money on this being a buck. I pulled, he pulled and on it went. I tried several different angles to get him to move and burn up some energy but he would have no part of it. Finally I exerted a very heavy sideways pull and as I felt him starting to turn the hook came away, bummer. I guess this is why they call it fishing. I hate losing a fish, especially in the middle of winter. Especially the first winter fish of the season, oh well. There will be more. BTW I fished down the run and then through one more time just to be sure but nobody home.

Snoqualmie River, September 2001
Fished my home pool for a few hours today. Fall is here for sure. The Kingfishers were out in numbers and were very territorial today. Maybe they found out I have some Blue Kingfisher skins in the closet and were miffed. The water was crystal clear, low, and dead still. Every now and then an October Caddis would fly by or be washed by. It was easy to pull out a Steelhead Caddis and start fishing the upper pool. As light washed over the run it got prettier. There was about a foot of fog on the ground and it turned and tumbled its way down river like another layer of water. Conditions seemed about perfect. The upper pool is 12-36" deep and is all rocks and depressions, fish can and do lie anywhere so one does not wade in but fishes from the edge and all the way to the beach. Salmon were rolling around the pool and one time I was watching a salmon roll and something flashed and went after it. I put my next cast into that area and was met with a perfect head and tail rise. The seagoing trout turned and sank back to his lie but soon the line came tight and he felt the sting of iron. The perfection of the pool was shattered as the buck raced up and down the pool. After a few such runs I was able to ease him into the shallows. 30" of chrome bright wild buck. Two sea lice were additional evidence that he was not long from the ocean. He had only the faintest hint of crimson along the side and very small spots. A beautiful fish indeed. I eased him back into the river and wished him a fair journey. As the pool was shaken up and no one was around I decided to fish the pocket water and the bottom of the run and then return to the top. I switched from the Caddis to a small Jack Spratley. As I worked the fly deftly in and out of the small pockets at the bottom I was soon fast to a second fish. This one was easily dispatched and I soon saw why, a hatchery hen. If only she knew of the zoo of gear slingers who would soon be lining the hatchery creek she would probably run for her life! She was gently returned to the river. I fished the rest of the pocket water with no result and then left the pool to the three gentlemen in the boat who had taken over the upper pool.

Grande Ronde, Nov 5 2001
This was the second morning in a row John and I stopped to fish the "Ranch Water" pool in the morning. From river right it was fishing like a dream. The slicks and swirls in the middle just had to be holding numbers of Steelies. I went through first with a tip and a big Orange von Hartmann spey. John started above me using a Waller Pinky dry, the big black dry fly I created for the Babine years ago. We were not even to the upper rock when I head the familiar YEAH! and knew John was fast to a fish. The beautiful hen put up a valiant fight but soon she was tailed in shallow water. Her beauty was consistent with the rest of the Grande Ronde experience, perfect in every detail. The following three picture document the experience in a sequence I call "another day at the office". For a great day on the Grande Ronde yourself call John Farrar at (888) 881-1576.

Grande Ronde, Nov 5 2001
I started in a the top of Cable Hole, river right, with a size 3 October Tom waking up a storm. The water is very choppy here and the structure is textbook Steelhead water. As the October Caddis pattern skipped and hopped its way around the swing there was a small swirl near it near the end of the swing. Almost immediately a second little swirl right next to the fly again. The fly swung down below me with no more action and I paused for a moment to access the situation. The little swirls were indicative of a fish which has left its station to follow rather than that of a fish on station. I search the swing pattern in the water looking for the likely looking lie but it all was very fishy. I tossed the fly out again and it swung around with no result. Another cast and this time a tiny wink about halfway through the swing, still not the look of a fish on station but promising. By now John had stopped fishing behind me and was positioned high up on the bank below me watching the proceedings. I switched to a large Geek dry and ran it through the swing again, nothing. I took a step down and ran it through again. A third of the way through the swing a small buck Steelhead came entirely out of the water and missed the fly completely. John hollered at me, "I think you have a player"! Remember that all this is happening on November 5 in water which is 44 degrees. I ran the Geek through again but nothing doing. I looked in my fly box and decided on a Steelhead Caddis, not one of the dozen new ones but a well chewed on which has accounted for over a dozen Square Tails so far. First swing through nothing. A small step down and another cast. The drift was punctuated by the violent boil of a fish on the take but it missed the fly. The fish immediately spun around and slammed it again, this time with success. Fish On! This buck came 8 times to the dry before he got it. The buck fought hard, much harder than the 9 pounds or so he was blessed with. When we looked at him in the shallows he was chrome bright and perfect, not a scale out of place. These fish have the most beautiful Olive/Gold backs you have ever seen. We carefully returned him to the gene pool and reflected on how lucky we are to fish for these wonderful salmonids. Washington State Rocks!

Skykomish River, July 2001
Went fishing Sunday below Sultan. It was raining lightly but steadily and had been raining all night long, the first rain in almost a month if you can believe it. You can walk through some fields down river from the launch ramp in Sultan and about a mile down there is a nice run. Above the nice run is a deep hole which drift guys fish a lot followed by a swift tailout. Although the tail is deep there are some big rocks out there and a very nice slick about 50 feet out. The trick is that between you and the slick is some 40 feet of very fast water. If you can get your fly out to the slick and set up so you can get a drift you will take fish there. Since no one was around I started at the top of the run below. I was fishing a small Green Butt Skunk in the clear water but the Parr were having a field day and not wanting to hurt anybody I changed to a big "von Hartmann", a spey fly of my own design based on Syd Glasso's "Brown Heron". I figured the Parr had never seen anything like it and would be scared and stay away. I must have been right since no more tap, tap, tap occurred but three casts later all heck broke loose as 32" of bright hen Steelhead attached herself to the fly and headed south. She fought bravely but was soon brought to hand, measured, and sent back on her way with my respects. She was so bright you needed sunglasses to cut the glare. Still no one around, cool. I kept fishing down the run and after another 80 yards was almost to the end. All of a sudden there was a tiny pluck during the drift of the fly. What was that, could it be? I made the same cast again, nothing. I took two big step upriver and made the same cast, tap and nothing. Same cast again. This time the line came tight and once again I was fast to 32" of mint bright hen. She zoomed into the fast water fleeing for safety but the long rod was able to steer her safely into the quiet water below and she was soon measured an released. The two fish were almost twins. I walked back up to the top and started again. Slightly above where the second fish took I had a slashing take and another, almost identical hen, came to hand. This one was closer to 33 inches but still bright as the sun. AFter her release I was musing about what an excellent day it had been and I had only been here 2 and a half hours! Still no one around. I walked over to the bank and sat down on a fallen tree and fired up a cigar. 30 minutes of smoke, eagles, swallows, and the sound of the river and I was completely in the zone. Time to fish the upper slick. I got myself in position across from the slick and started making the 60 foot cast and almost dead drifting the big orange fly through the slicks and swirls. The fly was fishing beautifully and I was confident there would be fish here. About halfway through the slick a gear fisher appeared out of the woods walking toward me. He carefully avoided looking at me and proceeded to a spot 30 feet below me, waded out, cast across my line and started fishing. I am sure his mother taught him better than that but he obviously did not get it. I still had a nice piece of the slick to finish up so I tried not to let this bother me and get back to the zone. The fly drifted and swam its way through the boulders and a couple of casts later there was a bright silver flash and WHAM, fish on. Turned out to be a fourth 32 inch hen, this one with a couple of sea lice on her. I released her carefully and then glared at the fisher who had invaded my space. Then I packed up my stuff and went home. Four fish in 3 and a half hours, what a morning!



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