Please, take me back!

I'm sorry Rodney, I didn't mean it.  Please don't be mad.  It will never happen again!  Yes, I remember when I forgot you in that bar at the airport.  Yes, I also remember leaving you in the airport bathroom.  Yes, more than once.  Yes, yes, I also left you at the security check-in in San Jose.  Of course, how could I forget leaving you at baggage claim again in San Jose and getting all the way downtown to my hotel before remembering you.  Oh yeah, I also left you behind at that Mexican restaurant in the Salt Lake City airport.  And the time that I left you on the plane and barely made it back to get you before my connecting flight.

But it's not my fault?  I was born with a defective brain!  Like that guy in Memento, I just can't remember things for more than a few minutes.  I promise, Rodney, I do love you!

Remember all the great times we've had together!  All those fish we've caught.  I remember when I picked you out with the help of Jay, who was at Front Range at the time.  You were my first real fly rod!  I remember catching our first fish together by accident on the Ark.  I remember when I put that 14" tape mark on you to know how many fish I could keep while camping on the Ark.  And when I had to add an 18" mark to know whether or not I could keep a second fish while camping on the Bighorn.  I remember when I added that blue tape to your case so I could tell you apart from my buddy's identical setup.  No, let's not think about that time I accidentally snapped you in two; we've healed and are past all that now.

And look on the bright side.  I actually managed to not lose you on the last two legs of my travels.  Two in a row!  Sure, it may have been after forgetting you on 6 of the last 7 legs but I've turned over a new leaf!

Can't wait!

First off, my apologies for the non-fishing post.  But I figure most fisher-people also enjoy a good brew now and again.

I'm proud to say I brewed my first batch of home-brew a couple weeks ago and just bottled it all up tonight.  It was surprisingly easy, but now I have the surprisingly difficult task of watching it sit there for a month.

And doesn't my new iPhone take nice pictures?  I can't wait to use it on the river to get that great shot of a nice fish just before dropping it in the water (the phone and the fish).  Thanks work!  And I'm sorry now for when I will surely drop it in the river.

Thanks mom and dad for the brewing stuff.  It will get plenty of use in the future!

Yep, that's about right

Work has had me travelling the last two weeks, and with work travels I pretty much always fit in some fishing somewhere.  The way I see it, a work trip is basically a free plane ticket to go fishing.  This trip was no different.  With a need to go from the left coast to the east coast it made perfect sense to stop over and see friends go fishing in CO.

This post is not about that.  It is about what I saw on my way to Orlando, FL.  What do you think of immediately when I say FL?  If you say "old people," you are correct.  That is what you are thinking about.  And there is a reason.  At the airport where I transferred to the plane to FL, this is what the boarding area looked like:

Little red sticks poking up all over the boarding area.

See title.

No Solicitors!

But it's legal if you trick someone into coming to your doorstep so that you can solicit them.

Which is exactly what I'm doing here.  HA!  Gotcha!  Now bow to my demands.

Some friends and I are planning a trip to the Indian Peaks Wilderness in two weeks (mid Oct) for some lake fishing and would love comments on whether this is a good idea or not.

It could be terribly cold/snowy and we are planning to backpack and stay for a few days. We're not sure if it's a little late in the season or if there could be ice on the lakes already. We're also not sure exactly where to go.  There will be a contingency plan in case of bad weather.

Let the comments and advice roll in!

It's not easy being green

As PacNW-erners know, Oregon is green.  And I mean green.  It's not just that the grass and trees are green, but even the tree trunks and branches and forest floor out here are covered in vibrant green moss.  A lot of people talk about how beautiful it is and how much they love Oregon.  I suppose I understand, but I have never really had the capacity to appreciate beauty in nature.  Stargazing has always been nothing but a precursor for sleep to me, and I can't sit on a mountaintop and just look for hours.  5 minutes and I'm bored.

Now, all that is not to say I don't appreciate beauty and nature at all.  Of course I do.  You read this blog so hopefully you've noticed.  I just like to take a more active role in that beauty.  Which might mean hiking way back into the wilderness for a weekend of backcountry fishing, or some high mountain headwater fishing, or what have you.  And there's nothing I enjoy more than the sense of adventure I get from bushwhacking through trail-less countryside in search of a mountain top, a river, a lake, ... anything.

But back to the green beauty of Oregon.  It's green for a reason.  That reason?  Relentless, incessant, overcast and drizzle for eight months of the year.  No, no, it's not as bad as you think.  If you like to be cold and wet.  Otherwise, yes it is that bad.  And it is back.

When I moved out here I dreaded the fall/winter/spring back to back to back knockout punches.  Living in sunny Boulder, Colorado I became used to rainy days coming a dozen times a year and sun otherwise.  And I realize I have obviously been spoiled.  I can remember when a rough day on the water involved that nasty storm rolling through in the afternoon and me being without my rain jacket.  The rain would shower down for 15 or 20 minutes and I would take cover under a tree and try to stay somewhat dry.  Then the sun would come out and fix my pathetic inability to be capable of surviving in the wilderness, and I could continue fishing.

But what severely disturbed me recently was some time I spent on a nearby river last weekend.  The start of the day was overcast and rainy and cool so I layered up and sported my GoLite rain jacket.  I fished away the late morning and early afternoon with minimal success, but high spirits.  Then in the afternoon the sun started to poke through and I started to lose my interest in fishing.  I keep telling myself it's not that I was enjoying the rain but I know that I am, in the immortal words of Mikey, deluding myself.

There's something comforting about putting on a couple extra layers and zipping up your rain jacket and standing in the rain.  I think it has something to do with a primal sense of overcoming adversity through the intellect and ingenuity of mankind (even though the jacket and clothes weren't my own ideas/products).  This has always been a part of me and is why, since a child, fall has been my favorite season.  It's not the falling leave piles and subsequent leave-pile bonfires we would have in the backyard.  It was the simple act of putting on that long sleeve T and zipping up a light jacket before heading out of doors.

Then again, maybe it's just that the cold and rain makes one of my favorite things that much better....dark beer!

Dropping like flies

Just a couple weeks back I was talking with a friend and follower of this blog and we were joking about what a great job I was doing of reaching my goals for the year.  At that point with 8 out of 10 months gone I had crossed off a grand total of one out of ten.  It wasn't looking good.

Last week I headed out to find some sea-run cutts so I could at least cross one more goal off before the year came to a close on me.  I did succeed, although I didn't tell you all.  The pics I took either turned out way too dark or way over-saturated.  Such is the life of a poor photographer.  But at least that makes it 2 of 10.

Since I was on a roll I figured it would be a good idea to go try for some salmon on Saturday.  The entire Portland fishing area is new to me, so I stayed with one of the few rivers I have been to:  the Wilson.  It was a little more popular than last time I went out, which isn't surprising since then it was very rainy and this time it was nice a sunny.  But eventually I found a spot to park and fish.

The first thing I saw when I got down to the water was a nice big fish 20 feet out from the bank.  I couldn't tell if it was a small salmon, a huge sea-run cutt, or a stealhead but who really cares.  It was a big fish.  The section of river was moving very slowly and the surface was glassy....not the best condition to make a stealthy cast.  I gave it a go anyway and managed a number of casts near the fish before he took off.  No luck yet.

For the rest of the afternoon I worked my way downstream hole after hole with no luck besides a bunch of little fish chasing my streamer around and nibbling at it.  When the sun began heading down the canyon walls I decided to move upstream and work the water above where I had started the day before calling it quits.

Finally I struck gold fishing a fast moving riffle.  There was a strong take and not long thereafter I got a glimpse of what I was in for.  Light glimmered off a huge silver side in the seam of the riffle, and I couldn't help but say "holy $#!T!"  It was on!

Right away the fish turned in the current and headed downstream.  Line spun off my reel and I tried to move down quickly with him.  Luckily for me the fast current was short and he dropped into the big pool just 25 feet downstream.  From there he was easier to control, but I was still somewhat regretting adding some 5X to my 4X leader.  Reliable knots sometimes elude me.  When I had tied this one I wasn't all that happy but I tested it and was too lazy to redo it.

That knot was all I could think about as the fish came up to me then turned and swam back down into the deep pool.  Over and over again.  Each time the fish came up near me and I tried to get down to him he ran.  A number of times his turn involved me getting a splash of water in the face.  I pulled my net out of my vest and got that close to him once too before realizing it would be of no help.

I've seen it done in the movies and apparently you can just grab big fish by the tail.  I have also always thought it was made to look way easier than it was.  But that was my only choice, so I kept fighting the fish to tire him out.

Finally after an hour in fish-fighting time, or 15 minutes in real time, he came in close enough for me to attempt the tail grab.  I grabbed his tail, put my rod down and picked him up.  As easy as that!  If someone had been watching they would have been fooled into thinking I had done this before.  With a better look at him I became a little confused.

I had assumed I was catching a nice Chinook or Coho, but it looked more like a steelhead to me.  The only information I had to distinguish were the few things I read in the past week or two.  What I remembered was something about spots on the tail and that Chinook have black gums, Coho have white gums with a black outline and steelhead gums are all white.  This guy's gums were solid white so I am left assuming he was a massive steelhead.

I set the camera up for a quick self portrait and took a couple pics to make sure I got a decent one, then got him back in the water.

My best guess is he was somewhere north of 30" in length and weighed however much a fish that big weighs.

Also notice the adipose fin still in tact, which means he's not from a hatchery.

And that crosses two more goals off my list.  One for catching a steelhead not on accident, and another for making a new notch on my belt for my new largest fish.  Congratulations to me!

Now I just need to bag a Salmon...

The Unpossible

I was out on an Oregon coastal stream this weekend to chase some sea-run cutts and ended up stumbling upon some salmon.  They were ominously out of place in the small stream, and actually startled me when I saw the first one.  Then I started to get excited.  There were a few of them cruising around in a pocket of slowly moving water.  I'm not good at estimating size/weight, but my best guess would be in the 30"+ and 15+ lbs.  One of them could easily have been 34" and 20-30lbs.  Ginormous by my standards.  And probably uncatchable on my 7/8wt with a 4x leader.

And then I saw one of the monsters porpoise, presumably to eat something!  I stopped tying on the big ugly streamer I had just grabbed and instead pulled the biggest hopper pattern I had out of my box.  No, I didn't expect this to work, but just imagine if it could!  With my camera in place I snuck out into the river and gave it a few casts.  Here's the video, sorry I'm not in the frame but you should be able to see the casts and you will also see the fish...

I gave up after that and moved upstream to catch some cutts.  Later I came back down here and gave a big ugly streamer a bunch of casts.  It swam right by one of the smaller salmon's mouths a number of times but no bite.  I even accidentally snagged the streamer on the fish's dorsal fin without it noticing, but I didn't want to hook the big fish that way so I gave a couple soft pulls and it came loose.

Maybe next time.