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Bytes, bits, and a life of bites.

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I enjoy the slower side of life. Being 28 I feel as if I stumbled on some secret almost a decade ago. Fly fishing seems to be the driving force behind my, “enlightenment” if you will.

I fell into a field of study at college that fed on the technology this country has such an appetite for. Even as I type this app and manage my website, check Facebook, send emails, and listen to internet radio while doing it, I realize the irony that sometimes presents itself here. Using the very tools I am somewhat condemning to write and promote myself, for a lifestyle that feeds on the complete opposite.

We live in a world of bytes and bits. Bytes of computing speed, bytes of internet speed, small sound bits, small clips and bits of video, bits of text coming on bytes of data, fed directly into your eye and ear holes. The more we use it the more they pump into it. Now I can watch how to tie a fly on the Internet, while watching a video of fishing in New Zealand, filling out a fly tying order, and checking my facebook feed, while also looking at whats trending, checking the flows for tomorrows float, and reading the news and blog articles. Oh wait someone just messaged me, and I have a new guide trip inquiry, and a voicemail!

Its a never ending comma stream of things we do every day on auto pilot at mach 10 going full speed all the time! Its exhausting to even type it all out.

STOP…

Fly fishing is the complete opposite. For me it all about the river. The river moves slow around the bends, fast through the drops, and light and airy through the riffles. It has deep slow troughs that can move trees, it carves canyons and hews rock with its very touch…slowly over time. A slow powerful giver. All a river does is give, it gives life to the valley, it carves beauty into the mountain side, and is home to species upon species of life. The river is the matriarch of the wild, if the mountains are the father.

They give the angler many things. Why everything starts with the river for me is two fold. It brings me silence, and it demands patience.

I suffer from some wicked tennittus, playing drums in bands when younger will do that do you. The ringing never ceases. Like most who suffer from this annoyance of a problem, it can make things rather uncomfortable sometimes. Sleep is a big problem at times, crowded areas with lots of crowd noise make it worse making it difficult to hear, staring at computer screens for extended periods also make it kick up. The river…is the ultimate cure all for it. It combats the ringing with its constant running and the silence that surrounds the river makes the annoyance disappear and I find relief. It sounds silly but it works. It doesn’t work for any real scientific or health reason. It works because of what the river does to me.

All that noise, the plugged in nature of everyday life today, can flare up all sorts of problems for people. Stress being the biggest. The river takes that all away. She gives me my cure, by drowning it all out and I can focus and find a sort of peace in the form of chasing trout and all that it entails.

There is none of the regular life on the river. The river doesn’t care for any of it. Mobile phones should be off in her presence, not always a reality, but try it sometime. The river demands your attention, your focus, and your patience. She gives, but not without testing. The gift I love most is the silence.

The river is anything but silent but it is silent to the world away from the river. She drowns out the world around with her subtle flow, birds sing and chat along her banks, squirrels talk at one another, a river otter chirps, a beaver slaps its tail, a bugle of a distant elk in the fall, or the loud call of an osprey or eagle riding the air in search of prey. The river uses all of this to clear out all the noise and fill me with silence. A silence we have lost touch with. Imagine a world without the noise? Just you and nature….some people can’t handle it. Its intoxicating to some who find a place of such silence. A mountain top where no plane flies overhead, a river with a roaring rapid around the bend, a snow filled day and the sound of a cutting ski, these bring silence to the noise.

Patience. A skill hard learned for an angler. The world off river is a fast paced one. I find that if life doesn’t slow down, insanity will ensue. It starts with that cabin fever you get. Some people don’t realize its cabin fever and they snap after 30 years of doing the same grind everyday and buy a sports car. Screw the car, buy a drift boat!

I get cabin fever about every three days to be honest. I find myself yearning to be outdoors and on the river more and more. The winter has not been kind, and even when I am not on the river she is teaching me patience. Be patient for spring Nate, its coming.

I hone my patience through tying when not on the river. Sitting and focusing on a singular activity for extended periods of time that is not plugged in helps my patience. All the while I am thinking about trout and the river that holds them. I’m like a drug addict. A patient, angling addict.

That patience has trickled and infiltrated into my everyday life. I am patient with my children, my lady, my co workers, the general public. I keep a cool, calm, steady, and patient demeanor, a giving outlook on things, and deep powerful passion; the river has no room for anything else so why should life? Why do those with money, large houses, and lots of things, envy the trout bum with a simple happy life? Because life is slower, and they see it, and they want it. It’s worth more than any amount of money. Pretty sure we are missing something about this thing we call life. Fly Fishing reopens a door for me. I enter into a world that is devoid of the very things we think make up life. Money, job, car, family, bills, the stuff that clogs up what life actually is, isn’t on the river. Where would it be…there is no room for it.

When you spend enough time on the river you start to figure some things out. The biggest one for me always comes back to patience. Life, much like the river, necessitates patience. My life has slowed down. I take my time to go about my day. Always trying to stray from feeling rushed or constrained. I take my time on the little things: the mornings are for slowly waking early, with the sun is best. A strong cup of tea is recommended, always taking the time to drink it fully. I typically enjoy a tea and a read, or I will write in the mornings. This sets up the rest of the day. Taking the time to enjoy it is the best method for a proper day. A good groom of the beard and a curl of the mustache in the morning makes for a dapper day as well.

I spend time enjoying the simple things. The turn of the thread while at the vise or holding my baby daughter and listening to her tell me all about her day requires attention and patience. Brushing things aside and rushing everything means you miss the whole point. You don’t jet boat down the river fishing one cast in every hole and moving on! You float or walk, with the river, at her speed, you slow down to spend more time and give each fish the proper attention. Should life be any different? Why not approach life as if I were approaching a wary rainbow lurking in the under cut. When you spend enough time on the river….you learn things.

The pace of my world has slowed so much I enjoy the simple pleasure of rolling the perfect smoke, tying the perfect fly, making the perfect cast, or spending hours with legos and a couple of kids, all of them making me fill fulfilled for the day. I may work 8 hours a day a few days a week and get a paycheck every month but it does not fulfill me. It pays for the off river world that is a necessity and allows me to spend more days on the river and chase trout with friends and clients. There is always the hope that my days of work are always ones that involve trout, but taking your time to accomplish your goals seems to be the best strategy in my experience. Rushed never works and sometimes doing things solo is the best method, much like a walk and wade trip into the mountains in search of trout and solitude.

So there it is! A few insights about life from a fly fishermen. Going the speed of the river seems to be a better way to get through things. Making a goal everyday of downloading less bytes and bits and making the only bites I have…from trout keeps me happy and content.

Tamarack

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Cars Suck, Drifboats are Better

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I hate driving, with a passion. In fact I don’t much care for anything that is motorized really. Its just not my speed. My speed is foot speed. A good 3 mile an hour pace with a pack on my back, a fly rod in my hand, and a good pair of boots. Headed farther up the trail to secret fishing spots and undiscovered riffles and pools.

My speed is more around that of the river. A slow but powerful churn, that can be swift when needed but calms and ebbs just around the bend. More my speed indeed. The speed of a drift boat and a strong back row for one more cast, feels more right than most.

While most around the river enjoy the winter from the back of a snowmachine. I never cared for snowmobiling in the winter months. Far louder and too fast to enjoy the outdoors properly in my opinion. You miss the softness of the winter. The quiet fall of the snow, the light babble of the low river, the lack of wildlife noises opens a world of solitude and silence. I for one, find it utterly refreshing,

I found that the winter months were better spent skiing or snowshoeing into the woods and discovering the wonderfully different side of them, This winter has made that rather difficult but I have fond memories of past seasons. Winter also offered me something even more desirable and just as intoxicating.

The river typically goes through the winter with little angler presence. The few die hards and anxious trout bums like myself will venture out when conditions line up, or even when they don’t. Sometimes just being on the river casting a rod to troublesome and sleepy winter trouts is all that is needed. The winter brings a stillness, peace, and absolute quiet that cannot be found any other time of year.

I have always enjoyed the lonely winter months along the banks of the river. A nymphing rig set up on a fast rod, a double haul with a big open loop, a 30 foot cast to the top of a deep trough, and that sweet sight of an indicator going down, the powerful tug of a hungry trout at the end. I have never been much of a streamer angler. While I love to strip flies for bass, and occasionally when the time of year or conditions demand it for trout, but I have a deep love for nymphing. A high stick drift, over the cross currents into that small soft spot between the boulder and the seam, the trouty place that only a large winter trout would hold in, ya…thats the stuff.

Tricking the quarry of an angler on the nymph requires patience, determination, and damn fine mending skills. A small bit of insanity is also needed. While dry fly fishing is…well dry fly fishing, nymphing is a game of fine tuning and dialing down to the result of tricking the trout. A proper dry fly placed in the correct lane with a excellent drift will entice a strike. A nymph through the fishiest water 300 times may never produce a thing and you would never know the difference, and miss an opportunity at the pod of 12 fish 2 feet deeper below your rig. An understating of current and hydrology helps immensely, spending time observing fish feeding on nymphs with a snorkel also opens up an entire world of enlightenment to the nymph angler.

Studying how the nymphs run through the water column and how they react to water temperature, air temperature, pressure, and the time of year all factor into where the trout will hold in order to feed. Try fishing the Salmon Fly Migration before the hatch, so many fish are left uncaught by the dry fly fisherman because they are full on nymphs. Some of the larger smarter fish as well. During the winter this process becomes a slightly tougher game mostly because less fish eat and fish need to eat less.

Trout slow down and almost hibernate during the winter. Typically in pods in deep slow water, trout hang out and literally chill while the winter months pass along. The fish all eat, but depending on the day they may eat just enough, not eat at all, or eat very little. This means anglers must pay close attention to temps and flows as well as sunlight. Warmer days with warm nights keep the water temps up which means fish need to feed. The greatest thing about winter fishing, especially on the Yakima, is that the larger fish are much easier to catch during the winter months. This is because the biggest fish need to eat more. The little fish may only need a small helping of nymphs to keep their energy levels at nominal for winter time. Larger fish need to eat, and therefore are easier to target.

During the regular season fish will gorge themselves on naturals, mostly because they require more energy to keep up with higher water temps which fuel their metabolism and they expel enormous amounts of energy during faster currents. Factor in fattening up for spawning in the spring and holding for the winter; and the regular season fishing is fairly straight forward. Winter fishing is an exact science surrounded by absolute frustrating chaos within the mind of an angler. A process of whittling down the sections of fishy water until the river takes the win or the angler gets a chance to prove oneself.

The typical single and double nymph set ups work just fine. I find myself light line nymphing with midge and pheasant tails frequently, but a large stonefly nymph and a zebra midge usually will result in success during the winter. I enjoy taking a piece of water and working it out fully. Picking lanes 6 inches apart from each other and casting through them, adjusting my depth every few casts looking for that sweet spot where the trout are holding.

Hitting them on the head is the best method and if you have ever seen trout feeding under water during December, let me tell you, they move very little most of the time, even for food. Working and entire section of water patiently and methodically will usually result in a proper winter trout. Winter nymphing is a matter of working all the variables out until you get that trouty result. You may only get one shot at a trout in the winter. Mostly due to time, the window for good fishing most winter days is under 3 hours. Fine tuning and finding the trout can take up most of that time but an ambitions angler with a good mind set can get the job done.

I spend the winter months tying and chasing the larger 4 and 5 year old fish that live in the deep pools and runs of the Yakima. The river is peaceful, and nothing is better than a soft snow and a quiet river. The silence being broken only, by the sound of a reel slowly fighting against a deep pulling trout.

Our destination is only a couple hours now, I look forward to a change of scenery, a different river, and a new quarry.

Tamarack

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Sharing the River

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I had the pleasure of sharing the river with a few anglers yesterday. It has been a while since I had fished with other people and the company was most welcome. I miss having new faces in the boat and learning about other people’s experiences, life, and how fly fishing works its way in there.

I got to float along with an old mentor of sorts, he was the first person to ever take me on the river in a drift boat. He may not know it but I was so incredibly intimidated by him and his brand new Clacka back then. He and his daughter were gracious enough to let me ride along and help clean up trash from the Yak. I remember a particular stretch where the current was fast and we had to wade on either side of his daughter. I remember being inspired to share the river with my own daughter who was only a wee one at the time. I will remember that float forever, it made me realize that I wanted to row a boat for trout more than ever. Thanks dude.

Floating the river yesterday was a much needed respite from the world. The river was gorgeous even if she was unwilling to relinquish any of her trout to us. Even with the lack of fish the ability to row for once was intoxicating enough. I love to row. I love to slow the boat down and watch the river from just above it, waiting for a trout to flash in the current or rise to the surface. Rowing the river is almost as enjoyable to me as fly fishing. Almost. My body is slightly sore after being on the sticks, and my prior day of wading a few miles but its a sore I relish. I wish I was able to feel my muscles strained from fishing every day.

The other part of fishing with others is even when the fishing is bad the socialization can be the saving grace of the day. Laughing at fishing stories, swapping tales and lies, the hilarity of what is said between a group of anglers riverside can be a cure all. I look forward to more days riverside with anglers as the season approaches.

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After fishing I jumped out of my comfort zone and socialized off river. I am not much of a people person but can wear the hat and be involved. A good strong dark beer helps as well. I attended the Trout Unlimited meeting and got to see a lot of familiar faces and meet a lot of new ones. I loved talking with the old timers. The older generation may not fish as much but they have fished a lot. They are always willing to relay stories and information and learn about how things have changed and what has stayed the same. I mentored under an old timer, or THE old timer, for the Yak and I always find gems of information when conversing with the elder anglers. That makes them sound all mystical and shit…The Elder Anglers, I like that.

I also was very interested in the science behind some of the new projects developing on the river from other organizations and look forward to learning more about them as the year moves forward.

Trout Unlimited is a great organization and I am looking forward to being a part of thier mission here in the Headwaters of the Yakima River. I have kids and I want them to be able to fish these rivers and have better days than I ever did. I want my grandkids to be able to fish this river. While I focus mainly on the fishing I understand that this water is connected to everything and it is my duty as an angler here to make sure that the trout are not forgotten about. The trout tell you everything you need to know about the river. If I can help this river and all that in entails through TU then its kind of a no brainer. I am not just a young trout bum who wants to fish. I have invested almost 10 years of my life into this river and I want to give back what I can in return for what is has given me and continues to give.

I look forward to this new Chapter. I will be leaving for Idaho on Saturday for a week. I am hoping to get some fishing in while I am there. Maybe a brown trout, but there will be blogs from the road. It’s time to tie some flies and pack a few things.

Tamarack

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January Sun

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Hit the river for the day. I tied a few flies this morning and hit the river around 10:30 ish. The fog was just starting to burn off when I got to the first spot on the upper river. The flows were up from the shot of rain and snow we got so wading was tough but I managed to fish a few good looking places before moving on. The river was too swollen near Three Bridges for me to try my luck at a few of my favorite winter fishing spots up and down river of there.

I decided to head back into town and hit my old friend the Cle Elum. This river never ceases to amaze me. I hiked upriver today to a spot I haven’t visited in a while. I remember hiking the banks on a early summer day after they start to back the flows off from the dam above. There is a great drake hatch and some of the most perfect looking water I have seen on a river hidden up in the trees. The only way to access it is to walk it or float it and you have to walk a bit so not a lot of people fish it.

The sun was burning off the left over water still clinging to the rocks, moss, and trees when I stripped out enough line for a proper cast. The section I was standing below is where the river narrows between some log jams. There is a deep trough, a shelf, and a large deep eddy on the river right side. A nice 30 foot cast to the top of the trough along the seam between the slow and fast water dropped. Another 30 or so dropped before I finally hooked a fish.

The sunlight was shining brightly through the trees. It hit the water and lit up the mossy and algae covered stones below. Midges flew from the surface of the water and congregated along the edges of the river near still water between the pebbles and rocks. I could see a shape holding in the seam. It flashed. My excitement grew almost uncontainable. I cast far up river, knowing there were probably other fish in the hole. I finally got a proper drift through the cross currents while trying not to spook the fish that was still flashing and feeding below. I did not want to miss my opportunity as the sun could be off the surface at any moment and all could be lost.

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My indicator shot down and I set the hook with a high stick and a pull on the slack line. The fish hung in the fast water and shook slightly. I thought for sure it was a bloddy white fish but as I worked the fish into the slow water near me it spooked and woke up. It took line out with a slow hard pull and went deep. Then the head shaking came and I thought I was going to loose the fish since it was on the bottom size 16 zebra midge. One roll without tension and its over dude. My Winston bent and arced and vibrated as the fish tried to move into deeper water below me.

The trout took too much time in the fast water and I was patient. The beating the river gave me last week I was determined to do this correctly. The fish admitted he had been outsmarted and I pulled him into my nets embrace.

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A beautiful Rainbow Trout. Bigger than I thought as well. A delightful surprise. I did not measure but a proper 16 inches of healthy wild rainbow would have been my guess. A hefty fish as well. The water was bitter cold so I kept it in the net as not to shock it too bad. I took my flies from the trouts jaw, had my moment that I have been longing for all winter long, and released it from the net. I gave the tail a light touch and the trout darted back into the deep water on the other side of the river.

Content. The river only graced me with one trout today. I only fished for just over an hour and spent most of it walking upriver. I saw several trout working the midges underneath but they were easily spooked being in the sunlit water. Sometimes, especially in winter fishing, one is all you get.

I will be floating the upper river tomorrow and we shall see if she will give up a few more for a moment or two.

Tamarack

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Thoughts on Flies…and Winter…or Bleh as it shall be referred to.

In my Harry Potter room, tying a MB Emerger.
In my Harry Potter room, tying a MB Emerger.

Yet again we are given a dose of warm weather and rain.  The river has jumped up a few hundred cfs.  It should settle by the end of the week again.  That seems to be the mode of operation for this winter.  No snow, lots of rain, and a fluctuating river.  Why doesn’t it just be March already, without any consistency its like a precursor to Spring.

UGH! MEH! BLEH!  Its kind of a downer really, all this pretty great weather in between all the rain and frozen H2O particles coming down, and no fishing.  Water temps are still topping out around 39 degrees which is damn cold but fishable, so when the river is in shape it is worth it to nymph or streamer fish some holes.  I am not getting my drift boat out until it decides to officially be spring and with February looming and big snows still anticipated for that month, it looks like it may be a late one.

If I have learned anything about the winters here its this (this is applicable to the months of November through March): “Winter is Coming…eventually…maybe around February 4th…but maybe next week…I don’t know…get back to me.”

DAMNIT!
DAMNIT!

Where is the bloody snow!?  Literally everywhere else in the country that it is supposed to be snowing it is, but not here.  While I have no doubt that it will snow, and it will probably be one of those miserable snows that just never stops, causes problems.  Then when it all settles it will be March 15th and everyone will be bitching about how the winter was too short.  Dude, the winter was shot like two weeks ago.  Its so late now anyone that has a weather dependent business has already took the hit and is just playing the waiting game like the rest of us.  The upper elevations are finally starting to get better but with crummy snow, warm winds, and rain mixed in, the conditions just plain suck.  I haven’t even got my skis or snowshoes out of storage and at this point I may never this season.  It’s too late to be playing in the snow, too much stuff to get ready for the spring…if it ever shows.  My fear is that the winter will finally arrive…and then never leave.  Like a few years back when the damn snows up high didn’t melt until late July.

I keep looking longingly at my fly rods all secured in their tubes propped up in the corner by the door.  My wading boots have a permanent spot next to the heater in the bathroom where I dry them between wade trips.  I say permanent because I have been out two times since November.  Its driving me bonkers really.  The saying, “Winter is Coming,” can suck it as far as I am concerned.  Pretty sure Winter got lost and when it does show up its just gonna make everyone mad with its tardiness.

The tying has been my salvation.  Without the ability to unplug from the day and the world by visiting the river, my cabin fever gets the best of me.  Anglers everywhere know what I am referring too.  That need to be outside, in the river, the smell of trout on your hands, bugs in your beard, a strong tug, a tight fly line, and a filled net, its becoming overbearing now.  Late February is so close but the weather may have other plans.  The vise is the only refuge I have, besides youtube videos of New Zealand and the Lapland.  I have been taking my time and relearning a few techniques, fine tuning a few newly acquired ones, and getting creative but simple with my patterns.

I love developing new patterns, trying different materials, working out different ways to replicate and imitate the natural.  My need to get into a decent fly shop with a plethora of tying choices, and a wad of cash is increasing dramatically as we get farther into this snow-less winter.  My supplies are dwindling which is a good thing, I get a kick out of perusing the feathers, hair, and synthetics for flies, much like some anglers look at the fly bins.  The other thing that short supply does is it forces you to try new things.  Shit, I ran out of that, well lets try this instead.  Then, bam!  I have a sweet ass new fly to try.  That’s how a few of my more productive patterns came about.

Is this the river of my dreams? No seriously I found this pic and don't remember what river it is.
Is this the river of my dreams? No seriously I found this pic and don’t remember what river it is.

For me the trip starts at the vise.  Every time I tie a new March Brown Emerger, or Skwala Stonefly Nymph I fish it in my head.  With each turn of the quill or wire I cast the fly into another riffle or run.  When I head cement the fly at the finish, in my head, I am releasing the fish and casting for the next.  Sitting at the vise didn’t use to be that way.  I sat at a vise before I ever picked up a rod, but now, every time I tie its like a little dose of fly fishing on the river.  It gets so bad sometimes I tie flies in my sleep and come up with new patterns for the rivers of my dreams.  It sounds super dweeby but hey, I am a nerd for fly fishing.

The one thing that I am missing is that angler to angler connection.  My Lady listens to me talk about trout, flies, rivers, and everything in between all the time.  We stay up after the minions go to bed and talk about fishing.  Well I talk and she listens.  She thinks its cool.  A little nerdy but she has been watching me develop into an angler and tier closer than anyone.  While I love talking to her about fish, she doesn’t share the same passion for it that I do.  She wants to travel with me to rivers, learn how to better row the drift-boat, and there isn’t another lady I know that can rough it in the outdoors like she can.  She’s the best kind of fishing partner…the one that doesn’t fish, but can row.  My Lady is not an angler and that’s cool and she knows it.

I do miss tying with a group of anglers, talking shit and telling lies.  I saw that the local fly shop is having tying on Sunday mornings and I will try and hit it, but work gets in the way.  I should look into a group of anglers getting together somewhere like a coffee shop or something and tying for an hour or two one day a week.  It would be cool to be amongst other anglers, share patterns and techniques, talk about fish and the river.  I don’t get a lot of that in my tiny little room under the stairs where my vise and materials sit.

I love to tie, but I love to fish even more.  With tying for guiding now its a bit more fun because I am tying a huge amount of flies that I normally wouldn’t.  For myself, I typically tie a set of flies at the beginning of the season and that’s all I need.  A set being 6.  I do not intend to tie all of my flies but a majority of them will be tied and not bought.  Why not?  I still tie a set at a time, but I was taught that tying the same pattern 24 times in a row can make tying really boring and mistakes happen when you get lazy after about the 20th fly.  I switch between two and three patterns until I have 2 sets of each.  The next day I may repeat the same patterns or move on to the next hatch.  It keeps it from getting dull or feeling like a chore.  I finish a set of March Brown Emergers, I get tired of tying tiny little mayflies, and move onto a large Salmon Fly Dry, then maybe a Green Drake nymph, and then back to the Emergers.  I get special requests from friends for sets of flies, Craneflies are a big one, as well as my super tasty October Caddis Pupa, and those also give me an excuse to change it up as well.

A little troutsnack party
A little troutsnack party.

The other plus side of tying for the guiding season is I feel like I am working.  Not just tying for myself but tying for clients is a big push for me.  I have tied for anglers and sent sets of flies off in the mail from time to time but never the amount I’m tying for guiding this season. The guides at the shop I used to work for would have me tie certain flies for them.  It saved them having to buy a few before their trip. We also used to tie for each other all the time. Carp flies, for trout flies, a particular guide had some amazing bass flies that I still use, and we all shared patterns and tying lessons. They were notorious for stealing flies from the table before heading out on trips though. So don’t leave flies hanging around.  I always got very critical but always constructive feedback on patterns of mine so I welcomed the less flies in my box.

There is something quite satisfying to hear a guide or angler praise a finely tuned, personally tied fly pattern.  It always made me feel like I was doing something right when my flies were in other anglers’ boxes.  I never got nervous about my flies being out there, but I have always been laid back about my flies. Fish eat ’em for me.

It’s cool that not everyone can tie them, you can’t find them everywhere, and just because you have one doesn’t mean you are fishing it right.  I have met a lot of anglers that just put the fly on/in the water.  Its always a riverside treat to meet an angler or anglers that see you catch a decent fish and ask what you used and you show them something they wouldn’t have in their box.  I am always handing out flies on the river.  I never want someone to get off the river with a bad taste in their mouth.  If a few of my flies help make their day better than of course I am gonna hand them out.  What really get’s me is when they ask how to fish it!  Oh man, yes, lets talk about that.

Flies do a lot of things besides catch trout; they inspire anglers, help concoct stories of grandeur, enlighten and educate on the ways of the river, and each one is a tiny work of art.  Such simple but intricate things; much like the trout they catch, much like the anglers that tie them on.

Tamarack

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Uncooperative Weather

A spot on the Cooper.
A spot on the Cooper.

Well, the weather once again is being uncooperative.  We now have a hydrologic warning in effect as we are expected to get 2-4 inches of new rainfall over the weekend.  What does this mean, it means the river will probably turn into a wonderful muddy high mess.  Anxious anglers like myself will be stuck fishing the trout in our heads while tying at the vise.  Some of you may venture forth to the Basin to fish Rocky Ford.  A way to stifle the fever of chasing trout but I grew up over there and the fish of Rocky Ford no longer appease my need for trout.  Its a bit too much like going to a zoo and fishing for me.

There are plenty of other trouty places to fish but I tend to keep those areas to myself.  Spring creeks and private property, its all about who you know over there.  Fortunately I know just about everyone after growing up there and marrying the daughter of an irrigation worker who introduced me to all the farmers and land owners.  When Bass season hits you will find me over there chasing them down with a streamer and an 8WT.

I will say this about the basin.  Crab Creek is not a place to shy away from.  It is full of several different species of fish including three different trout species.  It can be hard to access with the ranch and farmland property, but there are stretches that are open if you know how to use a map and have a full tank of fuel.  Its typically a streamer gig most of the year.  Chronomids…if you are into that.  I fished myself out of that water living over there and not having access to the river so I don’t go back there very much.  Unless I am bass fishing.

When the Yakima gets all moody and fishing comes to a halt; I tend to spend most of my time at the vise.  I have been tying 12 to 24 flies a day prepping for the coming season.  I tie a lot in all the standard patterns, it saves me a little money, gives me something to do, and keeps that skill fine tuned.  Plus I always end up going to the fly shop and never finding exactly what I want.  There is nothing worse than going into a local shop and not finding the fly you want or need.  I just resort to tying my own.  Ya I could buy that Pats Rubber Legs Stonefly and save myself some time but I tie.  Not every angler does, for me though, the fishing trip starts at the vise.

The other thing I do is start looking at maps.  Just today, I got out the good old Green Trail Maps, of which I have over 30 now, and started looking for blue lines to explore.  I spent a lot of time in my early years of fishing, blue lining creeks and streams because I didn’t have a boat.  That made the Yakima and lower Cle Elum un-fishable during the summer months for me.  I started following the river up.  I found that the farther I hiked in the better the fishing was.  The Yakima above the lakes where it runs wild and a torrent, the Teanaway and all its forks, the Tanuem and its forks, the Naueum, the Cle Elum all the way up to its headwaters, and the Cooper above and below the lake, I explored them all.  There are many others too but I won’t name them here.  Some have no names and are just little marks on my maps and a quick entry in my journal.  Trout in all of them.  Some not so big, and some bigger than anyone would believe.  I did it, not to become the best guide, or to be the best angler, or to chase the trout really.  I did it because I wanted to see it, understand it, I needed to know what was going on up in the headwaters of the river I loved so much.  Its all connected, and the fish are throughout and I wanted to know, just to know.  The angler in me is constantly looking for new water and instead of traveling all over the state or the world I thought it was best to start small and start here.  If in the process I get to share it with others great but I am enriched to this day because of the time I spent wading upriver.

There is one river that I visited two times last year.  It is no secret that I have hiked around 1500 miles in this area over the past few years.  I have been on most of the major summits here and hiked to a long list of lakes and creeks all over the area.  This one river though, it has haunted my days and nights since the fall.  This little known river is passed by hikers, backpackers, backcountry horsemen, and hunters every season.  I have only heard of a handful of locals fishing it.  I hiked along this river last fall and will be returning this summer to really get intimate with it.  I took bug samples the last time I was there.  A heavy presence of Caddis, but also mayfly nymphs, and some of the smaller stoneflies were all present.  The reports from over a decade ago say that there was not a very large population of anything in the river.  Once a hallowed stream for native Westslope and Bull Trout this area has been left basically un-fished since the early 90’s by my research.  The Waptus is a very inviting river.  The area I encountered is in a very well known area but very little people fish it.  The few locals and backcountry horsemen that would give up any bits of information were encouraging but secrets were withheld, you can just tell sometimes.  I have seen some very angler inviting things during my time on the trails in that area.

In my hiking and backpacking the river seemed to let a few secrets slip through.  Maybe because I didn’t have a fly rod with me.  There was the time I saw a large male bull trout lording over a pool in the upper Cle Elum last year.  Or the time we spotted a pod of them where the upper rivers come together near Salmon La Sac.  WDFW guys still don’t believe me but agree its totally possible.  I also have caught enough rainbow, cutthroat, and brown trout out of the upper rivers and streams to make me wonder why the Waptus and a few other places are left alone.

Access is a big issue.  If you can’t guide it then people don’t know about it.  With the majority of the area I am concerned with being on National Forest or Alpine Lakes Wilderness Land, the chances of guiding or sharing it with others for commercial use is never going to happen.  But that’s okay really.  It means it will only be shared with those willing to make the trek, put in the time, and means I get solitude or friends to fish with.  I do know of one outfit that can guide on some of the upper stretches outside of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness but demand is low and the good water is still off limits in my book.  Again, not a bad thing.  Some water just shouldn’t be anything other than for the angler or anglers to discover.

A baby brown trout from a small blue line.
A baby brown trout from a small blue line.

The other thing I have found is the old “keep that a secret” which I get, I just don’t always agree with.  I also don’t like someone telling me that I shouldn’t fish an area because others may get the same idea.  If you tell me not to fish something, I’m gonna fish it.  I have hiked a lot of the trails…I mean a lot, so blue lining a river or stream through the mountains is just normal for me.  Taking a 3WT and seeing what I find is always an experience.  Even though you have some issues with access and landowners I have only ever had one shotgun pulled on me for trespassing; I wasn’t, but the old guy was afraid I was going after his gold claim.  While I have never actually broken the law, I have met some scary land owners that didn’t take kindly to me fishing in front of their cabin.  I even had a Ranger ask me what I was doing fishing a certain stretch as he said there were no fish in it.  I proved him wrong with a quick look at my phone and the dozen or so trout I had caught that afternoon.  Secret places are good, but without people knowing about them how can we protect them?  I keep several areas to myself still but I share a lot of them as well.  If an angler actually takes the time to hike into some of these areas and discover them, then they have earned my respect and the right (in my eyes) to fish them.  Some of these places are not the easiest to get too and all of them make an angler feel respect and awe.  Most anglers understand what that is and they cherish it, some don’t, but they aren’t the ones hiking in for a few days with a backpack, living off of freeze dried food, getting lost in the wilderness for trout.

The Waptus is one of my main areas of exploration and discovery for the season once the snows let me in.  I also am looking at areas on the Peninsula and would like to go after Sea Run Cutts again.  I spend a lot of the winter planning out trips and jotting down notes on areas of interest.  My maps are colored with circles and notes for areas.  I may never get to all of them but that is part of the fun.

I am also traveling to another state this month.  My Lady and I are taking the minions to Idaho to visit family for a week and I have been reading river reports, calling shops, and looking at maps for the areas of South Central Idaho.  While my family is visiting and what not I will be chasing trout on new grounds.  I visited a few of the rivers in the Idaho area a few years back.  The Big and Little Wood, Snake, Silver Creek, and a handful of others.  Its January so I don’t have my hopes up but it beats having to look at the muddy Yak for a week.  Plus a change of scenery is always nice for a while and my cabin fever is telling me I need a change.  Montana is also very close and I am making a return trip to the family in the spring so a whole new set of maps and phone calls will be made.

That’s one of the things I love most about fly fishing.  I can spend almost a decade learning a river and then take all that knowledge and apply it to others and learn all new things about trout, flies, and rivers.  Fly Fishing is a never ending process.  There is always something new to add to the arsenal.  There is a reason why people get so involved in fly fishing, its just rather hard to explain to those who aren’t.

Tamarack

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Sometimes the river and trout…win.

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I took the opportunity to fish an old but familiar section of the upper river Tuesday afternoon. The weather was somewhat pleasant and the river was calm and warmer than usual.

I cut through the woods and was invigorated when I stepped into the rifle before me. It had been a while since I had been on the river. October was a great month and I fished through the first part of November before the cold snap hit. But too much time had passed.

I brought my trusty Winston due to its ability to chuck nymphs and streamers equally. I swung streamers on my way down river and was brought no luck. When I had hiked and fished a mile or two down I switched to the nymph. I worked my way back up river through the pools and deep runs. I worked the water with patience and a game plan. I cut the water into sections and worked lanes and changed depths until I found fish. It worked.

I found a large pool with a root wad halfway sunk in it. I worked my way closer to the structure adjusting my depth as it got deeper. I was fishing a single Skwalla nymph under a small yarn indicator. The indicator bounced and bobbed faintly as it drifted closer to the roots. I set the hook with a light lift and then a strong tug when I felt the fish shake. I was late on the draw and the fish was off as quickly as it was on. Unfortunate.

A few pools upriver I had my chance at a proper January trout. My indicator shot down. I had switched to a the typical turd sandwich of the Yakima with a stonelfy nymph trailed by a zebra midge. The shit sandwich is when you trail a San Juan Worm. At least that’s what I was taught. A productive method when fishing on the nymph and nothing is happening.

This fish hit hard and did the typical rainbow pull to deeper water. I saw a quick flash as it started taking more line. I let out the slack I had pulled in.

Now this is where I noobed it up and the river and the trout beat the angler.

I let out too much slack as the fish pulled. Of course a smart large fish took the opportunity to make me feel like I did when I first started fishing this river. It rolled and shook off after teasing me with its immensity. Bad Luck. Drop the ball. Angler Fail.

That was the fish of the day. Sometimes you may only get one chance at a fish during the winter. I mishandled both opportunities that the river saw fit to grace me with. There in lies the truth about fishing sometimes. Every once in a while, the river and the trout, win.

For those of you who are heading out this weekend to fish. Grab the streamer and the nymph boxes. The water will still be up a little but I would recommend sink tips or long leaders on your nymphs rigs. I tie a hand tied leader for winter nymphing that is 10 feet long with a super stiff butt section to turn over double and heavy rigs. I also use a sink tip with a nymph and swing them under the top currents in the deep runs. Small Olive streamers, skwalla nymphs, or other standard nymph patterns are typical. You might get lucky and see midges coming off and can get fish to take the zebra as a trailer.

Let me know how the fishing is if you get on the river. I will be working and tying through the weekend. Trying to find enough time to chunk out 2 sets of flies a day as we get closer to the season.

Tamarack.

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Prepping.

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So the river is going to have a window of fishable goodness this week and I am prepping for some good old January fly fishing. Instead of breaking out the drift boat this weekend like everyone else. I’m taking my usual two weekdays off from the day job to visit some faithful “secret” winter holes I have had the pleasure of discovering early on.

Tying flies and searching for the warmest socks I own, while anxiously thinking about which places to visit and what techniques I should use. I’ve been watching the flows and water temps every few hours. Things are looking pretty good. Grab the streamers, the sink tip, some trusty nymphs and the thermal underpants and hit the river if you get a chance. I know of a few anglers just itching for some time on the river. Okay, more than a few, I’m hoping to beat the madness, if there actually is any, with some early week fishing and an early report for the weekenders since I’ll be in the office.

Till I’m off the river,

Tamarack

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The Truth about fishing in January

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January is typically a month that…well kinda sucks, for fly fishing. At least concerning the trout fisherman like myself. I have chased steelhead in the winter months of the northwestern rivers, but I don’t much care for it in all honesty. I’m a trout angler.

I had to make a run for work and got a chance to drive along the river. A green milky hue runs through the river, swollen from warm winter days and rain. The angler in me was intrigued at how inviting some of it looked. A 6WT with a sink tip and the slow strip with a green streamer was running through my mind. A possibility if the river drops just a tad more and keeps its temp up.

The overnight lows are in the low 30’s and dropping into the high 20’s later next week. If the gods allow it there may be a short window of opportunity to fish the river before the cold nights set back in. I wonder what other anglers are contemplating the same thing? A lot? Should I think about a less known spot if the window opens? Should I prep my boat for a short float? Is there a hole I know that could produce at least one fish to satiate my complete desire to catch a trout? There is and its soaking up my thoughts as I watch the river intently.

An opportunity to fish in January is something to cherish really. Most of the time the river is a slushy trout flavored death trap. Ice chunks, bitter cold, snowstorms, and sleepy fish are all that usually greet the angler on the gray and white days of winter. This is my 10th January on this river. Could be one that goes by like any other. Or maybe it might get a day or two of surprisingly decent fishing.

The truth about fishing in January, in most cases, is cabin fevered anglers, anxiously waiting for the next 40 to 60 days to pass. Tying fervently or torturing themselves by watching fly fishing videos from New Zealand and Argentina.

Tamarack