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What if fishing was so important that you would change your life to pursue it? You would focus your entire life around it and raise your family to appreciate every aspects of the sport for themselves. “A Steelhead Family” walks you through a few days in the lives of the Clay family (Bob, Jed, Kaili, Kathy & Kateri), who have done just that. Headed by bamboo rod builder Bob Clay, this accomplished steelheading family makes the sport of spey casting look easy while illustrating the importance of the survival of these great fish in BC, Canada. A true fishing family in one of the last wild Steelheading strongholds left on earth.

Created, edit, directed and produced by: Andrew Hardingham – Ubiquitous water Media

by Doug Rose

THE EXPLOSIVE GROWTH in winter-steelhead fly fishing over the last 20 years has resulted in dramatically increased pressure on productive, accessible water. Unfortunately, fish that see a lot of fly lines every day don’t remain responsive very long. Many anglers have responded to the decline in quality at popular waters by setting off in drift boats, pontoon boats, and rafts. Other steelheaders simply hike to cover more water. The goal of these anglers is the same: Fish as much of the river as possible in the course of a day.

As a strategy, that is certainly logical. However, many of these increasingly mobile steelheaders forget a critical fact. Those crowded pools earned their reputations because they contain features that attract and hold steelhead.

All steelhead swim every mile of a river between tidewater and their spawning bed, and bait and gear anglers regularly take moving fish. But in nearly every case, the best fly water is holding water — the slower, softer stretches where fish rest between faster reaches. On even the most celebrated streams, the vast majority of water is simply a migratory corridor, and only a small portion of the remaining water is suited to fly fishing. Casting to every tailout, slot, and pool is an inefficient approach.

A more productive strategy is to concentrate on a handful of proven pools and to fish them as hard as you can. It takes experience to identify potentially productive water, and it also takes time and energy to accumulate a handful of sweet spots, because not all promising water is actually productive. But you will catch these elusive winter fish more frequently by figuring out where they hold.

Steelhead Stream Types

Before attempting to identify the areas steelhead favor, you must first analyze the nature of the rivers that support them. Every steelhead stream is unique, but it is possible to separate them into three broad categories. The first is made up of large systems, such as Washington’s Skagit River, that flow out of mountains and often have a glacial component. Then there are modest-size rivers, such as California’s Smith and Oregon’s Siletz, which are fed by rainfall and snowmelt. Smaller creeks and tributaries to major rivers make up the third category.

The Floating Line Dead-Drift At high water, steelhead often hold in pocket water and deep slots. To present a fly to these fish, cast quartering upstream (A) and make an immediate hard mend (B). Follow the fly downstream with your rod tip, making mends whenever necessary (C), until the fly swings below you (D). Jonathan Milo illustration

 

Each type of river tends to be most productive under different conditions, and their fish often respond to different presentations. In areas where steelhead rivers are concentrated — such as the Klamath Mountain Province on the Oregon-California border, the Olympic Peninsula, Northern Puget Sound, and the lower Columbia River — the decision about where you fish on a winter morning often determines whether you feel a tug on the end of your leader that day.

When they are in good shape, large glacial rivers offer a classic steelheading experience. Expansive gravel bars provide plenty of casting room, and the broad water is ideal for swinging a wet fly. In winter, glacial rivers are usually at their best during cold, dry spells, when smaller rivers may be too low and clear. This is when the glacial pulse of the river maintains the translucent shade of green that steelheaders call “color,” which usually signals good fishing.

The downside of glacial rivers and large, rain-forest rivers is their tendency to “blow out,” to be too high and muddy after major storms. When this happens, it can take more than a week for the river to “come in” again. High water on big rivers can also fill in holes and carve new channels overnight. In recent seasons, I have lost several beloved pools and tailouts on the Hoh and Queets Rivers — spots I had fished for 15 years.

Medium-size rivers, such as Washington’s Kalama and Oregon’s Chetco, display in-river architecture similar to freestone trout streams. For anglers with more trout-stream time than steelheading experience, these rivers are much easier to read. Their channels are well-defined, and they usually exhibit more of the classic riffle-pool-tailout sequences. They also run clearer than glacial systems and clean up much quicker after rain, a trait that allows you to fish many more days each winter.

However, casting and presentation may actually be more difficult because trees and brush often grow along the bank, and it may be too deep to wade near shore. When it hasn’t rained for a while, the upper reaches can be too low and clear for productive angling and their exposed rock gardens too shallow for boats. These rivers are usually best during warming rains or when they are moderately rising or falling.

Creeks drain small, independent basins between the major rivers in many areas. Most are only a cast or so wide and are full of snags, root wads, and sweepers. Nonetheless, they can produce excellent steelheading and surprisingly large fish. Small-stream steelhead tend to arrive in waves as the water rises after storms. Fishing will be good for several days until the steelhead filter into the headwaters. Most creek anglers wade downstream and cover all the likely-looking water with tight, downstream roll casts. If you don’t like to compete with boats, guides, and crowds, small streams can be a godsend.

Identifying Sweet Spots

My favorite winter-steelhead water is a medium-size, non-glacial stream that I can almost cast across with a single-handed rod. Steep, braided rapids extend several hundred yards upstream and downstream. Three wind-blown alders tilt at a 45 degree angle above the head of the pool, and at typical winter flows, when visibility is about four feet or so, the water shimmers lime green. The pool is about 6 feet deep but extends roughly 60 feet from its head to the tailout. The deepest part of the pool, the part beneath the trees, is level, and its bottom is fine gravel. There are rocky shelves and emergent boulders at the edge of the tailout. A major spawning tributary flows into the river a quarter-mile upstream.

Over the last 15 years, I have taken more winter steelhead from that one isolated pool and tailout than my next half-dozen favorite spots combined. It is productive because it contains all of the ingredients that make for good steelhead-holding water.

The Sinking-Tip Swing Cast quartering downstream (A) and make a big upstream mend (B). Hold the rod upstream until you feel the weight of the line, and then allow the fly to swing under tension, making more mends (C) as necessary to slow the fly. Let the fly hang for several seconds at the end of the drift (D).
Jonathan Milo illustration

 

The pool and tailout provide critical resting water between the rapids. The fish favor the deep water at the head of the pool at lower flows because it offers security, and the current is softer along the bottom. At high water, the fish fan out in the slots and around the rocks of the tailout. The streamside alders provide the overhanging security that juvenile steelhead instinctively seek and that even adult fish seem to find comforting. The spawning tributary upstream means that fish often stack up in the pool, waiting for the right combination of flow, temperature, and ripeness to pull them upstream.

Although winter steelhead seek the same combination of resting water and cover on large rivers, the recipe for good fly water is slightly different from medium rivers. Biologists who snorkel these rivers tell me that winter fish do hold in big pools. But the most pleasant and productive fly fishing usually occurs on the broad flats between riffles and rapids.

Tackle and Flies for Winter Fish

Tiers of the Steelhead Flies Shown:
Two-Tone Marabou (top left): John Alevras
Optimist (top right): John McMillan
Orange Fox Tail Tube (center): John Alevras
Black and Blue Shank Fly (bottom left) : Dave Steinbaugh
Purple Shank Fly (bottom right) : Dave Steinbaugh

David Klausmeyer photo

A generation ago, an 8- or 9-weight single-handed rod between 9 and 10 feet long was the universal winter-steelhead rod south of Canada. Today, 13- to 16-foot two-handed Spey rods have become the norm on larger rivers. In addition to the obvious distance-casting advantages, two-handers offer tremendous line-handling capabilities and can manage heavy sinking-tip lines and flies. For creeks and tighter lies on large rivers, single-handed rods are better with sinking tips. In recent years, mulititip lines — which contain a floating running line and looped floating, intermediate, Type 3 and Type 6 tips — have become very popular.

Marabou Spiders, Bunny Leeches, General Practitioners, traditional upright-winged flies, and Spey flies are the principal winter-steelhead fly choices. Fluorescent colors, black and purple are productive in turbid water with poor visibility. Pink and orange are better in clear, cold water, and red and bright orange are good when the river has a green color. Black Bosses and black Steelhead Woolly Buggers are universal go-to patterns for the winter. Smaller patterns work better when the temperature drops into the 30s, possibly because fish are less aggressive and mobile.

Flies tied on tubes and Waddington shanks are increasingly popular on the Olympic Peninsula. They let you fish a large-profile pattern on a small hook, which results in better holding power. By adjusting the material and size of the tube or shank, it is possible to control the fly’s sink rate.

As on freestone streams, the best areas tend to be level and of relatively uniform depth. The areas downstream of long gravel bars and islands, where two channels come back together and create a softer “gut,” are promising. So are the seams where dimpled water and slicks meet. The presence of feeder creeks and tributaries increases the odds that fish will be present, as it does on smaller rivers. When you find a stretch of any river with two or more of these features — resting water, cover, and feeder streams — learn it as intimately as you know your living room.

Matching Tackle to the River

It may seem counterintuitive, but you can usually fish the broad glacial rivers with lighter sink-tips or heads than you can on smaller rivers. The wide flats and their relatively uniform flows do not require complicated presentations. You cast across or slightly upstream, throw a large upstream mend, wait for the line to straighten, and then follow the fly downstream with the rod tip. The long swing gives the fly time to sink before it reaches the holding water, and you can slow it with additional mends (upstream or downstream depending on the current) or by feeding line into the drift.

Type 3 or 4 sinking-tip lines or 150- to 250-grain heads are usually adequate for this type of water. A Spey rod is a great asset because the mending reach and line control lets you fish large water much more efficiently. Just as important, a beefier rod allows you to throw much larger flies, as long as five inches. You often need big, high-profile patterns on glacial rivers, where two or three feet of visibility is considered clear.

Slightly heavier and shorter shooting heads or sink tips are sometimes more productive on medium-size rivers, especially those that contain a lot of pocket water and broken flows. Holding lies tend to be discrete areas on these waters, containing only a fish or two, and conflicting currents prevent you from setting up a long, deliberate swing. The trick is to get the fly down quickly. For pockets and tailouts, Type 5 or 6 sinking tips in the 10- to 15-foot range accomplish this with fewer mends. Longer and heavier sinking tips or high-density shooting heads get you into deeper pools and heavier flows. Smaller but heavier flies sink better, and a more acute downstream casting angle overcomes conflicting flows in pocket water.

Many anglers prefer to pick pocket water and seams with a floating line. Dry lines are most often associated with creeks, and the conventional approach involves a double-taper line, a leader as long as the rod, a box of nymphs and egg patterns, and a strike indicator.

However, my good friend, John McMillan, fishes the largest rivers with a floating line, no indicator, and both Spey and traditional upright-winged patterns. These include his own Optimist on 3/0 to 5/0 hooks, and a fly created by his father, Bill McMillan, called the Winter’s Hope. John is an expert at reading water, a fearless wader, and often casts well over 100 feet. “I need that much line out for the big mends I need to sink the fly,” he says.

I’ve described the characteristics of steelhead rivers and holding water with broad brush strokes, but remember that streams of all sizes share some characteristics. Even sprawling glacial torrents have pockets and narrow tailouts, especially the farther you travel upstream. And although the dimensions will be less impressive, most smaller rivers have gravel-bar-flanked runs where you can set up a fat, slow swing. Winter-steelhead rivers are incredibly dynamic, rising and falling as storms buffet the coast. When they are high and turbid, sometimes your only chance is at daybreak in the shallows near shore, where the fish have rested overnight.

But anglers who discipline themselves to identify and then focus on the most productive water will always enjoy more success than those who see how much river they can cover during one outing. After all, on a short winter day, you don’t have any time to lose.

Doug Rose is the author of Fly Fishing the Olympic Peninsula and The Color of Winter — Steelhead Fly Fishing on the Olympic Peninsula (Amato 2004). This article first appeared in American Angler Magazine. Copyright © 2005 Doug Rose. This article’s illustrations are by Jonathan Milo, 2 Fish Illustration, Ph: 203-382-1379, email: Milofish@aol.com.

Well, last week I got an unassuming box in the mail that held the fruits of their secret labors. Have to say I’m pretty impressed. So I decided to share some photos and information for you here:

Reaper 6wt reel seat and ferrules

Reaper 6wt reel seat

Reaper 6wt guides and wraps

Another view of Reaper lettering

Beauty shot of the hook keeper and lettering

Reaper 6wt with Tube

So there’s the proof that its a ‘purty’ rod with no short cuts in fit and finish, but the next question is always “how does it cast?”. The answer is nice – it’s a nice rod. It is different than the M-Series and while lacking the refined sweetness of that awesome rod series, it has a progressive medium-fast flex that casts nice tight loops with ease. It has plenty of authority for aggressive casters but can float a light fly with delicacy. All in all it’s a winner.

If there’s a new trend that’s arisen on trout streams in recent years, it’s the proliferation of different nymph-fishing “methods,” “tactics,” and “strategies.” It’s interesting to see the great interest in these types of fishing. Many of them are being introduced as revolutionary, and some of them truly are. Some though, are old methods given new names and presented to new fly fishers, which is fair enough also.

At the heart of many of these nymph-fishing methods is the effort to accomplish two things: first, to get the fly down to the bottom of the stream; and second, to devise some way of knowing what’s happening to it when it’s down there. These are the reasons most hard-core nymphers use one or more heavily-weighted flies, often with additional lead attached to the leader, and a large, buoyant indicator somewhere between the flies and the end of the fly line. By my count that’s somewhere between two and five things attached to the leader, all of which are either heavy, wind-resistant, or both.

This, friends changes everything when it comes to casting. Conventional, rhythmic, aesthetically-pleasing-to-watch fly casting is out the window. There’s an unfortunate irony in all this. The typical beginner learns to cast with either nothing or a small piece of yarn on his leader. He learns to throw nice loops, straightening out the leader with a classic, drag, flick, stop move. Then someone, either a guide or a more experienced friend takes him fishing. “The nymphing’s been great here lately,” the friend says, “here, let me rig up for you.” Onto the leader go a weighted San Juan Worm, a weighted stonefly nymph, two BB split shot, and an indicator the size of an Easter egg. Our neophyte steps into the water and starts to cast, using the motion that he’s trained his muscles to know by heart. But, instead of drag, flick, stop, he gets drag, flick, clunk. The fly smacks into the rod so he untangles the mess, mutters, and starts again: drag, flick clunk. Curse. More untangling and another try: drag, flick, clunk. “Ouch!” Our friend has just learned one of the new truths of fly fishing: There’s fly casting, and there’s “weight casting,” and they are completely different from one another.

In order to cast with a bunch of additional stuff on your leader, you must first stop trying to cast in the conventional way. You must in fact, break most of the rules you spent so much time learning. Then you must implement a few new rules:

Casting Techniques
1. Cast with the whole rod, not just the tip. Do this by moving the rod through a large arc, nearly touching the water at the end of the both backcast and forward cast.

Big streamers like the one this bull trout ate can’t be delivered with a conventional cast
2. Allow the back-cast to straighten completely before starting the forward cast.

3. Minimize or eliminate false-casting altogether. Each false cast raises the possibility of something bad – and potentially painful – happening. It’s okay, and even beneficial to use what’s called a “water haul,” laying the line down on the water briefly at the end of each back-cast and each forward cast, and using the surface tension of the water to help load the rod on the next cast.

4. Don’t under power the forward cast. There is an understandable tendency to make the forward cast gentle, so that if something goes amiss and the fly hits you in the head, it won’t be going too fast. In truth, it will be precisely because the fly isn’t going fast on the forward cast that it hits you in the head. A powerful forward cast keeps the fly and weight high in the air, well above your head.

5. Cast in an oval. Make the back-cast sidearm and the forward cast overhead. This helps reduce tangles.

Don’t discard what you’ve learned about conventional casting; just save it for those times when you’re casting a dry or unweighted fly.

A long-time fly fisher and outdoor writer, Jim McLennan has written four books about fly fishing. “Blue Ribbon Bow”, “Trout Streams of Alberta”, “Fly Fishing Western Trout Streams” and his most recent work, “Water Marks”. He hosted two seasons of the television series ”Iron Blue Fly Fishing” and was one of the first guides on Alberta’s legendary Bow River, working the river from 1976-1982.

If there’s a new trend that’s arisen on trout streams in recent years, it’s the proliferation of different nymph-fishing “methods,” “tactics,” and “strategies.” It’s interesting to see the great interest in these types of fishing. Many of them are being introduced as revolutionary, and some of them truly are. Some though, are old methods given new names and presented to new fly fishers, which is fair enough also.

At the heart of many of these nymph-fishing methods is the effort to accomplish two things: first, to get the fly down to the bottom of the stream; and second, to devise some way of knowing what’s happening to it when it’s down there. These are the reasons most hard-core nymphers use one or more heavily-weighted flies, often with additional lead attached to the leader, and a large, buoyant indicator somewhere between the flies and the end of the fly line. By my count that’s somewhere between two and five things attached to the leader, all of which are either heavy, wind-resistant, or both.

This, friends changes everything when it comes to casting. Conventional, rhythmic, aesthetically-pleasing-to-watch fly casting is out the window. There’s an unfortunate irony in all this. The typical beginner learns to cast with either nothing or a small piece of yarn on his leader. He learns to throw nice loops, straightening out the leader with a classic, drag, flick, stop move. Then someone, either a guide or a more experienced friend takes him fishing. “The nymphing’s been great here lately,” the friend says, “here, let me rig up for you.” Onto the leader go a weighted San Juan Worm, a weighted stonefly nymph, two BB split shot, and an indicator the size of an Easter egg. Our neophyte steps into the water and starts to cast, using the motion that he’s trained his muscles to know by heart. But, instead of drag, flick, stop, he gets drag, flick, clunk. The fly smacks into the rod so he untangles the mess, mutters, and starts again: drag, flick clunk. Curse. More untangling and another try: drag, flick, clunk. “Ouch!” Our friend has just learned one of the new truths of fly fishing: There’s fly casting, and there’s “weight casting,” and they are completely different from one another.

In order to cast with a bunch of additional stuff on your leader, you must first stop trying to cast in the conventional way. You must in fact, break most of the rules you spent so much time learning. Then you must implement a few new rules:

Casting Techniques
1. Cast with the whole rod, not just the tip. Do this by moving the rod through a large arc, nearly touching the water at the end of the both backcast and forward cast.

Big streamers like the one this bull trout ate can’t be delivered with a conventional cast
2. Allow the back-cast to straighten completely before starting the forward cast.

3. Minimize or eliminate false-casting altogether. Each false cast raises the possibility of something bad – and potentially painful – happening. It’s okay, and even beneficial to use what’s called a “water haul,” laying the line down on the water briefly at the end of each back-cast and each forward cast, and using the surface tension of the water to help load the rod on the next cast.

4. Don’t under power the forward cast. There is an understandable tendency to make the forward cast gentle, so that if something goes amiss and the fly hits you in the head, it won’t be going too fast. In truth, it will be precisely because the fly isn’t going fast on the forward cast that it hits you in the head. A powerful forward cast keeps the fly and weight high in the air, well above your head.

5. Cast in an oval. Make the back-cast sidearm and the forward cast overhead. This helps reduce tangles.

Don’t discard what you’ve learned about conventional casting; just save it for those times when you’re casting a dry or unweighted fly.

A long-time fly fisher and outdoor writer, Jim McLennan has written four books about fly fishing. “Blue Ribbon Bow”, “Trout Streams of Alberta”, “Fly Fishing Western Trout Streams” and his most recent work, “Water Marks”. He hosted two seasons of the television series ”Iron Blue Fly Fishing” and was one of the first guides on Alberta’s legendary Bow River, working the river from 1976-1982.

If there’s a new trend that’s arisen on trout streams in recent years, it’s the proliferation of different nymph-fishing “methods,” “tactics,” and “strategies.” It’s interesting to see the great interest in these types of fishing. Many of them are being introduced as revolutionary, and some of them truly are. Some though, are old methods given new names and presented to new fly fishers, which is fair enough also.

At the heart of many of these nymph-fishing methods is the effort to accomplish two things: first, to get the fly down to the bottom of the stream; and second, to devise some way of knowing what’s happening to it when it’s down there. These are the reasons most hard-core nymphers use one or more heavily-weighted flies, often with additional lead attached to the leader, and a large, buoyant indicator somewhere between the flies and the end of the fly line. By my count that’s somewhere between two and five things attached to the leader, all of which are either heavy, wind-resistant, or both.

This, friends changes everything when it comes to casting. Conventional, rhythmic, aesthetically-pleasing-to-watch fly casting is out the window. There’s an unfortunate irony in all this. The typical beginner learns to cast with either nothing or a small piece of yarn on his leader. He learns to throw nice loops, straightening out the leader with a classic, drag, flick, stop move. Then someone, either a guide or a more experienced friend takes him fishing. “The nymphing’s been great here lately,” the friend says, “here, let me rig up for you.” Onto the leader go a weighted San Juan Worm, a weighted stonefly nymph, two BB split shot, and an indicator the size of an Easter egg. Our neophyte steps into the water and starts to cast, using the motion that he’s trained his muscles to know by heart. But, instead of drag, flick, stop, he gets drag, flick, clunk. The fly smacks into the rod so he untangles the mess, mutters, and starts again: drag, flick clunk. Curse. More untangling and another try: drag, flick, clunk. “Ouch!” Our friend has just learned one of the new truths of fly fishing: There’s fly casting, and there’s “weight casting,” and they are completely different from one another.

In order to cast with a bunch of additional stuff on your leader, you must first stop trying to cast in the conventional way. You must in fact, break most of the rules you spent so much time learning. Then you must implement a few new rules:

Casting Techniques
1. Cast with the whole rod, not just the tip. Do this by moving the rod through a large arc, nearly touching the water at the end of the both backcast and forward cast.

Big streamers like the one this bull trout ate can’t be delivered with a conventional cast
2. Allow the back-cast to straighten completely before starting the forward cast.

3. Minimize or eliminate false-casting altogether. Each false cast raises the possibility of something bad – and potentially painful – happening. It’s okay, and even beneficial to use what’s called a “water haul,” laying the line down on the water briefly at the end of each back-cast and each forward cast, and using the surface tension of the water to help load the rod on the next cast.

4. Don’t under power the forward cast. There is an understandable tendency to make the forward cast gentle, so that if something goes amiss and the fly hits you in the head, it won’t be going too fast. In truth, it will be precisely because the fly isn’t going fast on the forward cast that it hits you in the head. A powerful forward cast keeps the fly and weight high in the air, well above your head.

5. Cast in an oval. Make the back-cast sidearm and the forward cast overhead. This helps reduce tangles.

Don’t discard what you’ve learned about conventional casting; just save it for those times when you’re casting a dry or unweighted fly.

A long-time fly fisher and outdoor writer, Jim McLennan has written four books about fly fishing. “Blue Ribbon Bow”, “Trout Streams of Alberta”, “Fly Fishing Western Trout Streams” and his most recent work, “Water Marks”. He hosted two seasons of the television series ”Iron Blue Fly Fishing” and was one of the first guides on Alberta’s legendary Bow River, working the river from 1976-1982.

http://www.flyfishingtechniques.co/2011/01/fly-casting-techniques-weighted-nymphing/

After the work was done (like talking about fishing and fishing gear to other fishing nuts is work) I spent two days living out of the back of my rental car traveling up and down the Kenai Peninsula as a fully committed fishing bum. By the end of the week I smelled so bad I bought baby-wipes to clean up a little bit.

The temperatures never got above 39 degrees and at nights I slept in all of my layers and a cold weather sleeping bag to ward off the 20 degree and below nights. Upside to that is I never had to worry about my food going bad as I had a built-in freezer / refrigerator. Below are some shots of the first section I fished – side note: I don’t take a lot of fish photos unless they are somehow different from the ba-zillion other fish I have caught (yeah, I said ba-zillion).

The second and third day I spent fishing an area that I shall not divulge, even under extreme duress, to any one who does not offer large sums of money. This area was by far the best in all respects. It was more remote with a lengthy hike into it. The landscape was full of awe and beauty, and the fish were much, much bigger.

Day two in this beautiful spot.

Usually by this time of year there is snow. I really don’t like snow and was grateful it hadn’t arrived yet. I hope you enjoy the photo essay of my trip (click on the photo for more info):

Who is Craig Black? Craig is a leader in innovation, quality and commitment to the fly fishing industry. Craig Black started some of the original tying factories in Thailand in the 1970′s working for his father Dennis Black, original founder of Umpqua. Since then he has been tying some of the most creative fly patterns in fly fishing with his own factory. Other factories have attempted to match his production and have failed. Its simple, other factories can’t match the quality, creativity or delivery.

Now that Emerald River Marketing is working with Wetfly.net even greater service and attention will be given the specialty fly fishing retailer. I’ll be seeing you soon.

So here’s a pic of some dudes fishing, and other stuff, you might enjoy.