The Creek and Stream 141 for Rick

Rob has been slumming it at The Creek three times a week since it opened (you'd think he'd be home brushing up on his Spanish and reading scriptures all day while he's waiting for Peru to open up so he and Mary can start their mission...) and he invited me up to join him this morning. I was happy to oblige - who doesn't like a clear stream in a beautiful desert canyon full of little redband rainbows?

One of the few open areas on this creek

This is such a happy place - memories of many trips with Dad and brothers, the smell of the blooming mock orange filling the air, grass hanging over the stream and sending out clouds of pollen when you brush by, sneezing, runny nose - OK, not all happy, but I can put up with the allergies to fish this little gem.

Fish found our renegades, most 7 to 9 inches with fat bellies. It was a little "slow" for the first hour, as the sun got higher in the sky the fish seemed to also warm up. By the time we were ready to climb out and walk back to the car, we had each probably had 40 or 50 to hand. I guess not too slow.

Nice rainbow, mangy lockdown beard

Now the fun. Stream 141, We stopped where a side stream came in from a spring up a side canyon. It could have enough water...A short distance up, there was a small fall with a deep pool in the basalt. Tossed the fly in, and a small rainbow hit it as soon as it hit the water. Stream 141 was in the books. Thanks for the picture Rob!

Stream 141 where Rick has caught trout in Washington, an unexpected addition today

Returning to the car, an osprey was posing for pictures in a tree above the creek.

 

Just love this place.

Flowers and Fish

Spent the day with my daughter Sarah taking pictures of wildflowers, then stopped to check out my local stream after waiting out a thunderstorm. Still running pretty high (about 260 cfs on the nearest downstream station). I could only comfortably wade up the side halfway up the first hole. Found 7 fish in about 20 minutes on the double psycho prince caddis green. Size ranged from 6" to 11". The floods earlier in the year have changed the stream quite a bit. It will have to drop a little more before it is fishable.

About the average size

Slow shutter on the phone...this one was 11"

Looking for Bass

Tom and I (Rick) and a friend Kirk Morris met at a walk-in basin lake where Kirk has done well for largemouth in the past and where we have also caught planted rainbows. This late in the spring we were hoping to find some bass. A cold front had blown through just hours earlier and few bass were to be seen. Kirk found some in the end of a cove, but we saw few cruising the shore. However, fishing the dropshot with a soft rubber worm in about 20 ft of water was the ticket for bringing up trout after trout, all about 14 to 16-inches.

Nice planter rainbow on a dropshot bass rig

I finally changed from the rubber worm to a balanced leech fished dropshot style, using a triple swivel with the fly off a short leader on the branch of the tee and a split shot weight at the bottom of about 12 inches of leader on the run of the tee. It worked as well as the worm. Kept catching them in up to 30 ft of water. Maybe a dozen and a half to hand. Tom also caught a bunch of trout, and one bass slightly larger than the rubber worm. I may go back later in the year and give it another try for bass.

Spring at the FRC (Fighting Rainbow Club)

Rob and I met for a morning of fishing at the FRC. Governor Jay Inslee was lifting restrictions on fishing in the state around this time, so I may be a little vague on the date. However, Rob did graduate from the University of Oklahoma (Sooners)...

No photos, quite a few fish. Rob mostly trolled in the boat with green and black buggers, and consistently hit fish. I mostly fished balanced leech and chironomids. Sporadic success, until the last hour or so I dialed in on the bottom in about 16 ft of water in the NE corner, olive balanced leech and black chewy chironomid. Was picking up a fish about every 5 minutes. I landed a 22-inch rainbow and 21-inch brown, lots in the 15-18 inch range. Rob about the same.
Rick

A Black Fishday to Remember

After spending Thanksgiving Day at Tom's, where the number of pies outnumbered the number of adults (pumpkin - 6, apple - 2, banana cream - 3, pecan - 2, blackberry - 1), we finalized plans for our perennial Black Fishday celebration, a calmer (and colder) alternative to the consumer driven, post-holiday madness. Given that the morning temps would be in the teens, we agreed to meet at "the ditch" around 10 am when the temps would be approaching freezing (from the wrong side). Joining us would be our nephew-in-law, Brad, a relatively new addition to the ranks of fly-fishing, and my friend Kirk, to whom I need to be nicer now that he has a fishing boat...

The late start proved to be a wise choice. Although the sun was shining brightly and the temp was up to 27°F when we arrived, the north wind had not yet calmed down and it was bitterly cold. Having rigged up the night before, and knowing that Tom would never wait for me, I was off to get the first casts into the water. Although we had fished here a couple times before with some success, the visits had been short, at the end of a day of fishing somewhere else. Today we were planning to explore a little more of this little ditch to see what we could find, and what we found made for a pretty exceptional day.

I started with a black conehead leech under an indicator, a setup that has worked well for us in the past in this type of water. After just a few casts into the first run, I saw a huge silver flash, but not a bump on my indicator. With clear water and the aborted take being straight across the small stream from me, it was easy to judge it as a fish in the 20+ inch range. But no amount of effort or change in flies could entice it to approach the fly again. The others had joined me by that time, and Tom broke his chironomid dropper off on a hit a little higher in the same run I was fishing.

After that promising start, the fishing was as cold as the wind through the next few runs. Some beautiful water, but no signs of fish. Finally, about a half-mile up from our starting point, I had a solid take down and hooked and fought a nice fish for some time before it came off. That was the start of a mile of fishing that rivals our best days at Nunya, a day set apart not by the numbers, but by the size of the fish.

Tom and Brad had moved upstream, where Tom had found five fish swinging a black leech, the largest being a healthy 18 inches.

I dropped in behind Tom and found another, probably in the 15 to 16 inch range, that got off as I was getting ready to net it. Tom continued upstream, where he found several more, including two over 20 inches (and it appears because of their size, Tom momentarily lost his mind and thought they were steelhead from our days fishing in BC when we pulled fish up on the bank and bonked them).

I almost didn't post this to save Tom the embarrassment of showing he was fishing with an Okuma reel, usually reserved for fishing cheapskates like me

Kirk got into the action in the same run, finding another thick, colorful rainbow.

That will bring a smile to any fisherman's face

I moved upstream to the next likely run, ditched the indicator, and promptly lost my fly as a large, silver shape rolled and broke my fly off before I could even react. I tied on another, and a few casts later my swing stopped and I could feel a solid fish. I set the hook and a dark, colorful rainbow erupted fully out of the water a short distance downstream. After a good fight, a solid, 21-inch rainbow made it into my net.

Fat, 21-inch rainbow

Continuing upstream, we came upon Kirk, who had found some fish rising to BWOs in a run, and was now trying to entice one up to his small dry. I told Tom we had made his day, as there is nothing he like more than fishing small dries to big fish. It will keep him entertained for hours. We watched for a bit and mocked him (all in good fun) as he missed a couple rises to his fly, then continued up to see what we else we could find. I had another solid fish on that I never saw, and we found a couple small ones, before turning around to head back to the car. We watched as Kirk landed his fifth fish from the same run. He had finally got a 13-inch on the dry, then switched to swinging black and picked up four more, including the 20-plus inch fish we saw him catch.

Although the sun was getting low, the day was not quite done yet. Tom and I stopped at the run where I had hooked my first fish of the day. My first toss into the current was almost immediately stopped by healthy fish that fought hard in the current. Tom tossed in a little further downstream, and promptly hooked a similarly sized fish. Brad caught up with us just as I was netting my fish, which I held in the net until Tom landed his so Brad could take a picture of the double. Perfect timing!

Twin, 21-inch rainbows

Brad, who is relatively new to fly fishing and had only indicator fished before, had had some solid tugs on the swing, but had yet to get a fish to hand. So we moved upstream to the run where Tom had caught five, to see if he could find one there. We watched and coached from the bank above, jeered when he missed a strike and cheered when he got the hook into one. It might not have been the size of some of the others we caught that day, but it was his first caught on the swing, a skill that will serve him well as he continues his development as a fly-fisher.

The smile of success

I found one more small one, and Kirk landed another beast right where we had started the day, a fitting way to end one of the best Black Fishdays ever.

Between us we logged ten fish over twenty inches in a mile and a half of stream, the kind of day that is unlikely to happen again, at least until next year's Black Fishday...

Rain, Wind, and Trout

Last Sunday, Boyd Robertson, a friend at church, asked if I wanted to go fishing on Saturday. He wanted to check out Big Four Lake, a small, fly-fishing only pond along the Tucannon River east of here. If that didn't pan out, we could stop at the T where we can almost always find some trout. When Friday came, the forecast for Saturday was rain all day, heavy at times, with winds 20 to 30 mph. Not a good forecast for fishing, but since you are reading this, you know that we decided to go anyway!

At 6 AM when Boyd came by, it was steadily raining, but no W. Picked up a pair of #6's at McD's on the way out of town to make certain it would be a good day. Rain all the way to the lake, but still no W. A short hike brought us to the man-made pond that every year is stocked with larger fish and managed as fly-fishing only water. We were hoping to find some good-sized fish looking for a few last morsels before the winter freeze, but it was pretty slow. I was fishing a balanced leech (olive or black, size 12) that I had tied the night before, hanging under an indicator. My first take was subtle, more like bumping across some weeds, but after lifting the rod to set the hook, the rolling, splashing, pink-sided hog quickly dispelled that thought. I got it on the reel, but then it dove and the barbless hook quickly came free as he spun round and round in the weeds near shore. It was a nice fish, probably in the 18 to 20-inch range. Over the next hour and a half, I hooked two more fish and had one other take down. One was 13 or 14 inches and also got off in the weeds, the last one was 16 to 17 inches and made it to the net. 

Big bow from Big Four

Boyd had one take down that broke his dropper on the set. Other than that, there was not much action. The fish were either hunkered down, or there may have just not been that many left from the planting at the start of the year. With the wind starting to pick up, we decided it was time to visit some moving water that rarely disappoints. 

Driving back over the hill, the rain began to fall harder, and the wind began to blow. We parked at my usual spot alongside the stream, which was still running low from the summer despite the rain. Looking down on the stream full of so many memories, my heart always races with anticipation of the first cast, the first drop of the indicator, the first fish. With the wind, there were leaves everywhere, on the bottom, floating down the river, flying through the air, but it didn't interfere with fishing. I started with the psycho prince, caddis green, size 14, and picked up a nice little rainbow pretty quickly, so I tied on the size 18 psycho as a dropper, which ended up catching most of my fish. After starting with a small leech, Boyd also tied on a pyscho and soon we were both catching fish, ranging from 2 to 10 inches, most in the 6 to 9-inch range. 

Not so big, but still pretty

We had the river and all the surroundings to ourselves, as no one else was crazy enough to be out in the blustery weather. At times we could look upstream and see a whirlwind of leaves, other times our line would lift off the water from the wind. But we still caught fish. Plenty of them.

I called Carlynn as we were leaving for home, and told her it had poured rain all day with howling wind. She responded that she hoped we still had a good time. I told her I hadn't even noticed it; we were catching fish. Beautifully colored rainbows that brightened the blustery day. 

Columbia River Bassin'

I got a message from Kirk Morris, a past guest on this blog and a fishing buddy who had disappeared since he got a boat a couple years ago and didn't have time for us lowly wade and float tube fishers anymore (OK, it is true that I never reached out to him either...). He wanted to know if I'd be interested in coming along for some late season bass fishing in the Columbia. My answer was of course, not just for the fishing, but because Kirk is a great fishing companion. Along with another friend, Dan, we headed out early Saturday morning for the confluence of the Snake and Columbia rivers.

Kirk had everything set up, so this was just a ride along and cast where Kirk said. He'd been out several times in the last few weeks, and although fishing had been slowing down, he'd still been catching fish. Drop-shotting was the ticket of the day, fishing a swimmy rubber minnow on a hook 12 to 18 inches above a small lead weight. Cast upstream, bounce it on the bottom while retrieving it slowly with the current. Takes were really soft, barely noticeable at times. Never a hit and run. We found a decent number of smallies like the one below, with a short diversion in the middle of the morning to a shoreline full of 8-inch largemouth that would often hit a small rubber worm before you could reel in the slack. That would have been a hoot on the fly rod.

Rick and a nice smallie

The action was consistent enough throughout the morning to keep things interesting. Bass were actually a lot of fun I really need to expand my horizons a little. We stopped by a bridge abutment on the Snake on the way to the ramp to search for just a few more, and after a couple small fish to the boat, Kirk hooked the monster of the day (and year), a 4-lb 11-oz smallmouth. Great way to end the day! Thanks Kirk!

Kirk and his biggie