Search for Big, Fall Brown Trout

The Owyhee River at the far east side of Oregon has been on my radar for some time, but it is just far enough away to require a little more planning than a simple day trip. After Dad's burial in Utah, I would be driving home alone and had bereavement time from work, so I decided to take an extra day for a little time alone in a beautiful place, with my thoughts, my fishing rod, a beautiful desert canyon, and a stream (supposedly) full of fish. We each grieve in our own, personal ways.

I left Sunday morning from Salt Lake after visiting my oldest daughter and son-in-law. Having all day, I took a circuitous route, driving back roads to The City of Rocks in Southeast Idaho, where I spent a few hours exploring in solitude, then continued on my way, arriving at a gravel bar on the banks of the Owyhee River well after dark. I set up my bed in the back of my "RV" (i.e., my RAV4 with a memory foam mattress topper and a sleeping bag) and walked down to the river, where I spooked a good sized brown with the light from my headlamp. It was hard to go to sleep, with the mix of emotions from the weekend's activities in Utah coupled with the excitement that always arises with the sound of a tumbling stream on the other side of a wall of willows.

Morning came late at this far end of the time zone, and first light found me at the head of a stretch of running water that flowed through a couple small bends with deeper stretches before entering a large, deep pool. While the water was fast moving and mostly clear with just a bit of color, the rocks were largely covered with moss/algae. I started with large streamers, thinking that the browns would be aggressive with the approaching spawn. But fishing through the moving water, I didn't have a strike. I reached the pool with the sun finally rising above the walls of the canyon, and saw many large browns, rising, swirling, jumping clean out of the water. Fishing around the edge of the pool, I had two strikes on the streamers (one on a white bunny leach, one on a purple), but no hookup. Reaching the outlet of the pool, there were a couple dozen large trout visible, with others moving up from the running water below, but no interest was shown in any fly I tossed their way, or even an 8-mm peachy-pearl bead. Moving down from the pool, I found another fisherman on the fast water below, so retraced my way upstream to the inlet of the pool. I noticed a number of small flies above the water, and thinking of the Provo River tailwater below Deer Creek dam, tied on a size 20 baetis nymph below a size 12 caddis green psycho prince nymph. I immediately had action all the way up through the run I had fished down through at dawn. Many decent rainbows, all 12" to 13". Some strikes that may have been larger fish, but nothing hooked. 

With more confidence, I moved upstream past a long stretch of slow water to where the water tumbled over and around basalt boulders into the head of the hole. Again I found similar sized rainbows, a small brown, and a big brown that thought my indicator looked better than the flies. Most were on the small fly, but a couple took the psycho.

It was well past mid-day and time to start thinking about starting the 5+ hour drive home, but I couldn't quite leave without trying another place or two for one of the big browns found here. I hopped in the car and headed downstream, carefully scanning the river for likely moving water between the long stretches of flat water found on this river (I have always told my family that if I die in a car accident on a road winding along a river, they will know without a doubt it was because I was distracted watching the river rather than the road). I stopped once and found moving water, but only a few more rainbows and no sign of browns. Not ready to give up yet, I checked the satellite image downloaded onto my phone for more likely spots - longer narrow stretches where the water would be moving faster - and made my last stop at such a spot a couple miles further downstream.

Climbing down to the river, I found a fast, narrow chute spreading into a still narrow stretch of  moving water with overhanging brush on the far side. It ran 18" to 24" deep for 20 yards or so before it began to broaden and slow. I quickly found several rainbows on the flies, but could see a larger brown or two holding in the water in front of me. They had no interest in the flies, so I switched back to a bead, this time a 6-mm bright pink one left over from Alaska. First cast, a brown in the range of 20 inches or so grabbed the bead, exploded out of the water, and spit the hook. This happened three or four more times before I finally got one to stay on and come to hand.

The next hour was amazing, with about ten browns to hand, all 18" to 20", fat and healthy, and many more lost as they spit the barbless hook with the first jump.

I found a few more in the next run upstream, and when I finally broke off on yet another big brown, decided it was time to call it a day and head for home. A magnificent desert canyon, a stream full of trout, and peaceful solitude have wonderful restorative properties. Though I can't call Dad and tell him about this day, he will be there with me as today's memories join in my mind with all those of past trips together. Always, he will be there with me.