I don’t normally count fish. But steelhead are a special case. They can be hard to find, hard to hook, and hard to land. You can do everything right, and still lose the fish. So every one you bring to the hoop and safely release is to be savored, even treasured.
Last Friday morning found me on Elk Creek in western PA at first light. The tally at that point was 175. I figured that 200 might be in reach on this three-day trip, and that five on day one would be reasonable. (In retrospect, it’s a little foolish to plan on catching a certain number of steelhead. You just never know what stream conditions, the elements, or the fish will throw at you.) I was flying solo, and got to the creek early enough to secure a prime mark. Within ten minutes, I was one-for-one. Then things slowed. I worked down the run and bagged another, a shiny fresh hen just in from the lake. Then nothing. By now the sun was up and I could clearly see into the tailout. It looked barren.
Every substrate is different, and ever-changing light also affects how well you can spot fish. As you can see, steelhead are masters at adapting their coloration to the environment. Sometimes you see them; sometimes you don’t. Learning to determine where they might be holding in any given condition, especially when you can’t see them, goes a long way toward improving your catch rate. I fished a couple pools and runs that certainly must have held fish — except they didn’t. At least not on that day and hour. If you’re not catching and you’re not snagging the bottom, you’re not fishing deep enough. And if you are fishing deep enough, and you’re not fouling a fish or two, there probably aren’t any steelhead in the pool. I lost many a rig in one indescribably sexy pool without a single hookup. But once I found the fish, it was go time.
Since another angler had jumped into my original spot, I decided to take a chance and walk upstream. As I neared some prime water, a guide materialized from the river banks to deter me from slipping in below his client. I gave them both a friendly wave, and announced that I had no intention of crowding them. This put everyone at ease, and I struck up a conversation with Glen, the client, and T (dagnabbit, I forget his name) the guide. Cigars were offered, flies and pleasantries exchanged, and before you know it I was fishing in a nifty slot above their pool. Funny how kindness and politeness goes a long way!
Friday was a tricky day. Whether due to pressure or other environmental factors, the steelhead went through stretches where they just would not eat. I got pretty good at recognizing early if a fish was fouled, and at taking steps to quickly de-hook the fish. I did land every fair-hooked fish, and on a challenging day where many anglers reported slow-to-no action, I was delighted to land eight steelhead. Many thanks to Glen for taking net duty, then this photo.Glen’s on! I can’t say enough kind words about Glen and T, who were kind, matey, and so generous with their water. In a matter of minutes, it was as if we were all old fishing buddies . You can see the different colored strata on the stream bed. The basic rule of thumb on a creek like this is to fish in the dark water, and near the edge of ledges. I hooked up several times by targeting a deeper, darker slot just downstream of a ledge. I’d toss my rig onto the ledge upstream, then let it drift down into the hole. If there was a player steelhead holding there, it would eat the egg fly the moment it dropped off the ledge.
I gave myself a hard stop of 1:30pm. I had to drive to OH to pick up Cam at college. Tomorrow, we’d be fishing in OH with a guide, and I wanted to be rested and ready. 183. We’re getting there.
currentseams.com 