I just got back from an extended session on the river that included guiding, personal fishing, poker, and some other general tomfoolery that accompanies the Dog Days of August on the river. Overall, fishing was typically tough but consistent and productive if you covered some water. I had action on every session out with some notable risen fish and memorable hookups.I batted a thousand in getting fish for all my clients the days I worked which is always a bonus. It doesn't always work that way.

All of those pale in comparison to the experience my buddy had. Brett has been hanging around the boys on the NU for 5-6 years now and he has definitely been paying attention! His casting and overall fishing prowess has improved dramatically since he first plied these waters. He has been a great student and has gotten a lot of tips from myself as well as a few grizzled veterans that have been fishing here seemingly since time began....you know who you are. Anyway, I want to relate this story because I want to highlight some key elements that make it so awesome.

So, Brett shows up and we fish together the first night. We raise a fish or two( I rose one 8 times that never ate) and have a blast hanging out and fishing together. I then guide for a couple days and don't see him much except at night. He has been hard at it, raising fish but no hookups. He raises a fish in a run at last light and puts it to bed. He tells me later that it was a way above average specimen. He watched as the whole side of the fish slowly came out of the water and missed the fly. It will be rested and ready in the morning and Brett has that fish and only that fish on his mind at dinner.He is present with us but I can tell that he is drifting away to that happy place where big fish hit skating flies and stick. I am right there with him after hearing his story of the first encounter.

Early in the AM he is gone. Gone to do battle with a fish that has captured his mind and full attention. I know the drill. He is rehearsing the whole scenario out in his mind as he drives like Mario Andretti to get to the run before someone blows his chances for a rematch. He arrives at the run to find that at least that part of the battle is won and he is the victor. He makes his way out to the casting station, knowing that now the run is his and he can have first shot at a fish that, if approached properly and carefully will almost certainly eat a fly today. The first time through he fishes a skating fly. As the fly enters into the window where he showed himself the night before, the anticipation,adrenalin and emotion of seeing that fish at any moment are so strong it's almost debilitating. It is hard to explain the feeling of knowing where a big fish is, fishing a surface fly closer and closer to his lie and trying to keep it together and still cast. The sense that something is about to happen is overwhelming.Every drift you are mentally calling the fish to make an appearance. As you get closer, you obsess with cast angle,mending, and swing speed. You wonder if he just may have left the run. Maybe I passed by him already, maybe he's not in the mood today, I'm never gonna get this fish to eat etc etc........and then WHOOSH! There he is! Your knees shake your breath gets shallow and uneven, you start to sweat, your head pounds with the beat of your heart which you are sure is on a PA system blasting over the entire river, announcing to the world that you just rose a fish. But the stillness of the morning is not disturbed in the slightest. You ask yourself," Did I just see what I think I saw?" Was that him?

Brett regains his composure after the fish is raised the first time. OK, he's still in there and he is still BIG! He changes flies to a traditional wet fly and sends it through.He waits like a coiled spring for the tug that never comes.....nothing doing. He changes flies again, a dark muddler of some sort. Same song third verse......nothing happens. A different wet fly nada. Back to a skater.......WHOOOOOOOOSH! but no eat. All told 6 fly changes and back to a purple Muddler.He actually hung up and broke off two flies on the shallow bedrock during this whole scene. He started to loose it, things were falling apart but he got his head back together and kept after it.Now he is pumped with adrenalin,furious that he has to retie a fly,doubting his chances all the more as the minutes tick by. He stays with it.

He shortens up and works his way down to the fish, more or less thinking that this fish just took him to school and it ain't gonna happen. The size 6 Muddler swings lazily across the current going exactly where the rod and the one directing it tell it to. Now this fish has seen an armada of flies come over it's head in the last 15 minutes. Why this fly is any different,who's to say. But it is. With shocking intensity and amazing power and speed, a mid teens buck absolutely hammers the fly going away and it's GAME ON BABY! Brett's 11 ft 7wt switch rod suddenly feels very inadequate as the fish uses every ounce of strength, current and ledge rock to his advantage, leaving little room to counter any of his moves. There is no moving this fish whatsoever in the strong current of this mid river run. If the fish leaves the pool there is no chasing it. They slug it out for a round or two and then with a couple of head shakes and a flip of the tail, the fish does what a fish of this size can and will do. Take you to school. In and out of the ledge rock, a tug of war battle royal ensues. And then just to prove a point and have the last laugh the fish bolts for the back door, wedges the line in the ledge rock, promptly snaps the fly off and leaves Brett a quivering, shaking,hyper-adrenalized shell of his former self.

That's why we fish.

He later told me,that particular fish was easily the most satisfying fish he has ever matched wits with. It all started with a chance encounter.That was then followed by a chess match which was followed by a 15 round tittle fight where only a knock out will win. It's OK if the fish wins
As one of the people that has watched Brett become an amazing caster and fisherman in a very short time I was proud to see that he stuck with this fish. Despite obstacles both mental and physical he played the game that very few can. It was a well planned hunt from start to finish.He kept it together and sealed the deal and got this fish to go. He knew early on in the fight that landing the fish was probably not an option but he still tried.Very admirable buddy, nice job! His success always encourages me.

I never landed a fish in the 3 or 4 days I fished but that fish was in my mind for most of the time I was down there. In fact it still is.

That was a fish we can all share in.....won't you join me?

So I had the extreme honor and privilege to guide country great Dierks Bentley last week. What a hoot! He had a few hours to fish before he had a night show at the Douglas County Fair. He wanted a small taste of the goods and he knew that catching a steelhead on the spur of the moment was probably not gonna happen. He didn't care.For him, it was a chance to jump in the old Jeep CJ that he tows behind the tour bus and flee the "scene" for a while. He just wanted to see the river,get in the water and see what all this steelhead talk was about.We met in the early afternoon and it was warm enough so he just wet waded. He was a good caster and he covered some nicely shaded water in the small window of time we had. The fish were not willing but we had a great few hours together in the beauty of the river I love....I think he loves it now too!A super down to earth guy that couldn't have been nicer. Just a regular guy who just happens to be super talented in the music department.

He generously invited my family and I( who were all on the river camping) to the show and took care of all the arrangements. He got us reserved seats down front and we were treated to an absolutely killer show! A great showman and singer he had the rowdy Douglas County crowd whipped into a frenzy in short order.He has a very tight band that was high energy and very animated. They were all having a great time up there and obviously love what they are doing. I was surprised when after the show, he invited us all on the bus where we met the band and just hung out with them for about 45 minutes. We were the only ones on the bus besides the band despite the hundreds of rabid fans still trying to get him to come out. We felt pretty privileged to be there that's for sure. It was just so cool. He gave my kids a tour of their rolling home which was quite impressive. They will never forget it that's for sure. I can't say enough about how humble and mellow Dierks and the whole band were. They made us feel right at home and were in no hurry to see us leave.But, eventually we had to go as they were heading North for another show and were heading out soon. My son wanted to ride in the bunk bed to Lake Chelan. We dragged him off the bus. An amazing night of fun!




Now to the fishing. As is typical for August it was tougher fishing for sure. I of course was fishing dry lines and dry flies and a muddler or two and couldn't get a sniff for a day and a half. I didn't fish super hard, and was enjoying some time running with the family. It was fun to watch my wife fish and try not to be a guide while I watched her. She is a great fly fisher and I wanted to see her get one.






 Debi fished hard in the afternoons and didn't get a sniff. I rose a fish one morning and then got one to go on a dry this morning. Despite heavy pressure on the river, I slipped right in to a spot that is often overlooked. It is a very difficult place to fish but it works and it didn't disappoint today.It was a way cool take. I watched as the fish moved from his lie and slowly circled the fly and then lazily grabbed it of the surface and went back to his lie. It happened so slow I actually let him almost get back to where he was sitting before sticking the hook in him. After a quick tussle,I released a nice buck. A great long weekend and I am feeling very blessed to live where I live and have the family that I do. Making memories can be very fun.

So, the other night I show up at a favorite run and am gearing up. I am alone in a spot that has access to 3-4 killer runs.The sun has shaded the water and it's GO time. A car rolls in and parks next to me. A fellow fisherman.The guy sees that I am wadering up and he comes over to chat.

" Are you gonna fish XYZ pool?" He politely asks. 

I say " I'm gonna be a minute getting ready,feel free to fish anything you want" and "Hey,thanks for asking"

He says"Well you were here first"

I say "Seriously, go have at it man,there's lots of places to fish."

"Are you sure?" He asks again.

"Yes,I am sure." I say.


Just then a guide friend of mine rolls in with clients and says to me"Hey, did you fish the lower end?"

I say " No, it's all yours, no one has touched it since it shaded." He nods his approval, says "Thanks" and heads down the road to ZYX pool and is gone.

I exchanged a few more pleasantries with the first angler who then went into an upper run and he was gone. I decided to leave him the middle water as well and I got in my car and drove away with a smile on my face.
I felt good about what just went down. I met a cool dude and potential friend in the first angler and the guide was a good friend already yes, but that stuff comes back around so giving him the lower run was a no brainer. I just gave up all freshly shaded unmolested water and really didn't care. I'm serious, I didn't even flinch. I guess I have learned a few things since I was a kid. There was no stress, no competition, no angst. I was confident that I would find a fish somewhere else.....and I did.

Now I mention this incident because as I grow older and hopefully wiser I really don't care near as much as I used to about fishing any one run.I fish the whole river,letting it dictate where I go, not peoples attitudes on the river,good or bad. Having a Plan A-Z is a good thing on this river. You can't be a one trick pony. I don't care how crowded it is, I can always find somewhere to fish. I want to have a good exchange with the people around me.Things go smoother that way. I know the river too well to get mad about not getting every pool I want every time.I almost had to laugh as I thought about talking with the first angler and almost arguing over who could have the water. It reminded me of that cartoon with the those little chipmunks.Remember "After you sir" "Oh no I insist, you first" Oh I couldn't possibly go first, you must go first"

I found my way to another stretch of prime water that was amazingly open. I fished through a series of runs with nary a person in sight, anywhere. I fished a skater with confidence as the water has finally dropped into reasonable shape and I could wade around without swimming. As I got into the "sweet water", just as I was stepping down, I saw and felt the object of my pursuit as it solidly grabbed the swinging skating fly. If I had stayed where I was one more second before stepping down I would have pinned this fish I think. But as I moved down and gave ground to the fish as it ate, I never got a solid hook into him and the fish plucked the fly solidly and was quickly gone. I was OK with that.I rose a fish to a skater and it ate it, I just couldn't seal the deal.

What a great night! It is August, I am fishing a dry line and skater, I am working the kinks out on a new rod and liking it. I am healthy and wealthy in family and friends, fishing the river that I love....what could be better?In addition,I had a very positive exchange with some fellow fisherman out enjoying the resource. Just a perfect night all the way around.

In conclusion I will say this: Please be courteous and respectful out there when you fish. Talk to people, see where they are fishing. Don't crowd or push people around. Also on that note,don't hold water etc.  If you are in a run, FISH IT.! Don't stand around waiting for it to shade etc. It's all about timing get there at the right time and you are golden.

The experience I had mirrors one of the reasons that I love the river. People that fish here are by and large friendly and ethical. The North Umpqua is still a place where history and tradition run deep. Let's all help to keep it that way forever.


There is so much more to this game than the catching!

The water was up significantly again yesterday as well as having a decidedly dirty twinge to it.Despite these less than favorable conditions , I got this boy to go. He took me to the rodeo and I used all my skill,fast footwork and wading abilities to land him. He fought exactly like a fish of this size and condition should fight......lights out! He stayed in the water for the most part,jumping only once,but tried to leave the pool on several of his powerful runs into the main current. The strength of some of these early fish rivals any I have encountered.

Maybe summer will show up soon,on this river............... it could still be  awhile.

 A great opportunity to meet a legend. Here is something I would like to pass along from steeliemikes blog:

 

Trey Combs this Weekend

 I had the opportunity to mix a little business with pleasure this week. I actually had legitimate work looking at the transmission corridor that runs above the North Umpqua from Soda Springs to Dixon. Rugged country is an understatement. I hiked in to the lines behind Bogus Creek Campground and looked at a section that had been worked recently by the tree crews. I took a shot or two from this unique perspective of a couple of classic runs.

So after I got my exercise in stomping around in the hills, I of course had to wet a line......DUH! At this time of year when the water is still so high, I try to think like a fish. Where would I be if I were swimming up this ditch? The popular spots right now are the easy spots to fish and thus everyone is in them. I avoided those places and went to an old familiar spot in the lower river. There was no way I would get out to the heart of the run but I could make it out to a pretty stable area and cast a longer line and cover most of the juicy stuff. I had been fishing a skater earlier in the evening, but my intuition told me sink tip. I stripped out some line to get beyond the boil from the rock we usually stand below. I made one cast and pulled it in"I didn't like that"I said, and set up for another slightly longer version . This second cast was a total train wreck, the line landed with more squiggles than a bowl of spaghetti, along with a huge belly being sucked in and held by the eddy from the rock. Basically the worst cast and placement of a fly as I possibly could have done, just terrible......and then the line went tight and a healthy fish grabbed my misplaced offering and headed for the back door. After a quick but spirited fight, I landed a chrome hatchery hen of about 8lbs. I should have given her the rock shampoo but traveling on the road early the next morning,did not bode well for fish retention at this time. I gave her a reprieve and she swam away strong. I fished a couple more spots, switching back to a dry line and skater on my new switch rod. As I find the button with this rod, I enjoy it more and more. I am fishing an 8 wt Rio Steelhead line on a 7110 Red Truck and I fish it mostly with one hand. It likes a high hard stop and that is what takes some getting used to, arm strength wise for sure. It roll casts like a dream and I just like fishing the longer floating lines on a  rod like this. A very good North Umpqua rod if you can master the technique to wield it. I'm working on that, always pushing myself to fish the way I like to fish not always what is easy or popular. Anyone can take a skandi head and chuck it a mile.....not so with the setup I fish. I will be working on it till I am an old man for sure.


Feeling pretty good after having a little action, swinging some skaters around etc.I again went to a spot that was just barely coming into decent shape. I started in way up high wading out to a spot I could get into a little of the deeper water in the main flow. I again opted for a tip in this situation, I just felt confident it was the right thing to do here as well. I fish drylines most of the summer and in these levels have no problem putting a light tip and unweighted fly through to just get into that mid water column. I worked my way down into the lower end just enjoying the run and the rhythm of casting and swinging. I was throwing a nice line and the drifts were on auto pilot. I was getting a slow swing into an area that holds a lot of winter fish as well. The water clarity was good enough to see why they liked it in here. A fast outside current with a mix of plate rock and basketball and bigger sized rocks just inside of that. A great place for a fish to move through quick or rest and hold.

I was about at the end of my casting and wading limit but had enough for a couple more before I called it. I make a nice cast and it hits and starts to swing, tap,tap,tug,tap,tug, I wait for the line to tighten but nothing, tap,tug,OK that's enough of that,time to SLAM THE DOOR!  I set the hook after what seemed like an eternity, not knowing for sure if waiting was the right thing to do. I haul back on the rod and half expect the fish to be gone, just a nipper and I missed him, but no, positive vibrations come from the other end as I find myself tied fast to another fish in  this short evening outing. This fish is big, wild and not very happy with me. He runs hard and fast all over the pool. I can barely keep up with him. He swims right at me and I struggle to gain line back and keep good tension. He sulks out in front of me but I know he is far from done. I pressure him from the side to get him to budge, he resists and slowly heads out to mid current. I again try to put the wood to him and he pauses for a second and momentarily comes towards me and then he bolts. In the span of 10 seconds he jumps four times, ripped off all my running line and  30 or 40 feet of perfectly good backing. He jumps two more times and makes another run for the tail but I am having none of that. I duke it out with him for another minute or two and get him up to a rod length away and the hook pulls free and he slowly swims off, the victor in this battle. I like it when I don't have to touch them.The ending for me on this night was a perfect ending to a perfect day. And I worked all day too! I don't need to land all of them.

Some ask me if I count the fish I don't land.....some people have different ways of counting things.

A big,wild, North Umpqua buck steelhead at the peak of his strength that just gave you a ride you wont soon forget......I say it counted, oh boy did it count!

I spent a brief few hours on the river and it was awesome as always. The water is still unseasonably high and it appears it will be that way for a while. We are probably about a month off our normal snow melt schedule and as frustrating as it is for wading and fishing, it is a good thing. Water level is close to a 1000 cfs above normal for this time of year. That's a lot of water folks.

Looking longingly at favorite runs in the ledge rock that are no doubt holding fish and not being able to reach the casting position was a humbling experience. I am comfortable wading on this river and get to many places before anyone else tries, but I had to admit I was beat.No mater how hard I looked at a spot and rationalized how I could make it to the casting station, the river said "Nice try Skippy, not today!" A little later,as I was trying to get to a spot I had no business going, I fought with the river,I challenged the river to a duel. My passion to get to where I knew fish were holding was clouding my better judgement. I ignored the voice in the back of my mind that said " You're pushing it dude" The river again said "I don't think so" and to emphasize the point, a powerful surge almost took my legs out from under me as I foolishly exceeded my wading limits. I moon walked out of danger and sheepishly headed for the bank. Things can happen so quick in this water and I realized that as much as I wanted to be in control, I was not. There were hidden dangers and forces under this seemingly tranquil surface.I was reminded once again that the river demands respect, no matter how well you know it. It was a good gut check, I should have been swimming, I DESERVED to be swimming.

After looking at,and fishing many of my usual early high water spots, I decided to fish a more popular spot. In fact one of the few places you could wade without swimming, thus the popularity. I watched as 5 or 6 people filtered through the run. Finally, the run was mine, in fact a series of runs were all mine as the groups of anglers that seemed to be everywhere were suddenly gone. It was 7 pm July 7 and the river was mine. I love it when that happens! Even though this particular run had been fished multiple times, I was confident that no one had actually made the proper drift to elicit a grab.I started in at the top of this very tricky run that has no less that 4 different speeds of water. Very fast water at your feet, medium current speed just out from that, a slow almost dead middle seam and a very fast outside current. The trick here is to get your fly to swing in the slower middle current where the fish hold without letting the line get yanked out of there by the close fast current. You need to use the fast speed of the outside current to help straighten things out, then hold line up over the close fast current and raise the the rod, lean and grit your teeth to get a long drift before the inside current catches things and rips it out of there. Line manipulation and management are crucial or you never get a drift anywhere slow enough for a fish to eat it. I start busting some string out and am now casting in the 80ft range. The drifts are sweet. The fly swims slowly in the middle section in perfect drifts and everything feels good. The line tightens agonizingly slow as the head shakes of a very lively summer steelhead start to transfer their wave lengths up the line and through the rod. The rod suddenly corks as the fish turns into the fast water and heads out the back end of the run, getting ready to show me some kite string. As the reel sizzles and my mind fizzles, I try to comprehend what has just happened in the last 30 seconds. The first fish of the year is always a surprise and this was no different. I let the reel spin, not comprehending that I could palm it to slow the fish down. Total mind meltdown as my instincts are not fine tuned like later in the year.And then without warning and as fast as it was on, it was off. It just inexplicably came unpinned. Why does this happen? Who knows and who cares! I just hooked a North Umpqua wild summer run that cleaned my clock and left me shaking and I was loving every second of it,about 45 seconds to be exact. I cranked in my line and looked around. Deserted. No one anywhere in one of the most storied sections of water in all of steelheading. I let out a small whoop as I let the excitement of what just happened wash over me. That feeling will never get old. The feeling of being tethered to a wild swimming creature that you just fooled with a hunk of feathers, with nothing more than a flimsy buggy whip and some string is something you can't describe to people.



The water is high, and the fish are few but if you get out there you just might have an experience that will soothe your soul.

Tight lines and smoking reels

Mark