Salmon River Steelhead Report: Turn and burn

May17

The plot is simple enough: drive five hours. Sleep for four-and-a-half. Up at 4:30am, on the river by 5am, fishing at 5:30am. Hard stop of noon. Drive home six hours (traffic and construction accounting for the added time). Collapse on couch.

Madness, you say? Perhaps. But this is, as Guinevere sang in Camelot, the month “when everyone throws self-restraint away.” There is something quite liberating about shedding your fleece and breathable jacket — not to mention responsibility — then standing in a river in the sunshine in your shirt sleeves catching steelhead.

I had this pool to myself for a couple hours. It produced a nice drop-back, already shedding its winter color for brushed aluminum flanks, and two skippers. The skippers were fun, taken during a caddis hatch on a mended wet fly swing with a Partridge & Orange soft hackle. The fish were slashing at emergers in the slack water along the far bank. There was a big steelhead doing likewise in the tailout, but I couldn’t get him to take. Now that would have been something to write about.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

A rusting skeleton that served a more dignified purpose in a previous life. I still can’t believe I was catching steelhead in the middle of May. What a contrast to the skunk and freezing rain of the April trip.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I Can’t Get No (but Gordon can)

Apr17

Booking a steelhead trip months in advance is a sure way to not only reserve a spot, but also play the weather and bite lottery. It’s a game I’ve done very well at when it comes to steelheading and losing.

Like Sunday, when Gordo and I fished some Lake Ontario tribs. 34 degrees, wind, rain, freezing rain, high & cold water, bite all but shut down. (I try. And I try. And I try. And I try. The fact is, dammit, I’ve blanked on three of my last four days up there. And oh, the crappy conditions I’ve endured. Insert long sigh here.) Of course, you can’t control the elements, so you might as well make the best of it.

We started off with some crik stomping at Trib A. Dad blanked, Gordo landed a dark horse buck before the bite shut down. Trib B was the Salmon River. After a couple hours we decided it wasn’t going to happen, and the lack of boats, anglers, or witnessing any hookups made us feel good with the decision as we paddled down to Pineville. Off to Trib C. First hour: blank, blank, blank. Last two hours: a fresh run of fish from the lake. Unfornately it wasn’t dad’s day, and I couldn’t even manage a touch. Gordo dropped two and landed two, so I got to play the role of proud papa, which, as any of you dads can testify, takes the mightiest stink out of any skunk.

Given the choice between 10 degrees and sunny or 34 degrees and raining/icing, I’ll take Option A any day. Sadly, we didn’t have a choice. I think I’m finally starting to warm up.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA ~

Kids. You take them fishing and they have the nerve to outfish you. Decisively. That’s OK. I’ve got a lot of yard work planned for this young man this week. Talk about a trouper — miserable conditions, spotty bite, and Gordo never complained once. Having finally lost a steelhead and for becoming a member of the Frozen Chosen, he’s now officially a steelheader.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Gordo rides again, or: First steelhead of 2017

Apr26

My status as a fly fishing personality gets me all kinds of cool perks. Like walking into Stefano’s and telling the hostess, no, we don’t want that table in the blinding sunlight, we want that one over there in the shade. Turns out we were seated next to some fellow Nutmeggers who recognized me, and we got to talking. They’d been up for several days and, like everyone else, were finding the fishing challenging. But on that day they’d discovered a whole bunch of steelhead that were willing to jump on. Hold that thought for a moment.

It was below freezing when we launched from Pineville. We focused on high percentage holding water, but the height of the river (1.65K dam release, 2K at Pineville) and its temperature (42 degrees) meant that the drop backs really hadn’t started dropping back in earnest. I found this natural work of art during a little shore leave.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Look what Gordo found! At least the skunk was off for him.

GordoSRBrown

The river looks totally different at 2K. Here Gordo takes us through Upper Sportsman’s. Talk about winning the weather lottery! We fished hard, but by 11:30 we realized that the numbers weren’t on our side. So we decided to trailer the boat and focus on some recently acquired intel (thanks, guys!)

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

We made the right call. Third cast, I was on. Small fish, but now the skunk was wholly vanquished. A half-hour later, I was working upstream, picking pockets, when I tied into a nice post-spawn buck. He gave me a few firm head shakes and surface boils, and made one impressive run toward the lake. Problem: no landing net, no good LZ, Jim and Gordon upstream out of assist range. Solution: improvise. I got him into a relatively shallow micro-eddy, gently corralled him between my legs and the bank, then lifted his head out of the water for a quick selfie.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

And if you want proof that steelheading isn’t fair, they started dropping the flows the day we left. Jim tells me the fishing has been great the last two days.

(Insert sighs and grumbling here.)