Happy Thanksgiving

Here's the view from Spencer's Butte this morning.

Wednesday at the Met

Since this is the first year I won't be in Maine for Thanksgiving, I decided to take advantage of the break from school and go fishing. Today was a perfect November day, sunny, cool and NO WIND. Fish may like cloudy days, but I like sunny days and being able to cast. I put the new snow tires to the test and headed over the mountains to the Metolius River.

The day started off cold. (It ended cold and was cold in the middle as well, but not as cold.) The fish were sluggish and so was I. While nymphing a deep, slower run I felt I slight pull. Probably a rock, but I set the hook just to be sure. I felt a slight shake. Probably a stick or weeds. Nope, still shaking. The apparent fish was too lazy to be bothered with this inconvenience so he just sat there until I started to pull a little, thinking it was a smaller fish. The fish started to swim lazily away and without giving any warning shot into the air. I was amazed to see a large trout on the end of my line, but figured this leap was going to send the hook free. No, I was still in luck. Just as I felt like the battle was almost over, he rolled on the surface and my line went limp. I was left wondering what happened and if I was going to have any more luck.

About an hour later there were bugs in the air, but no fish to be seen so I walked downstream. Around the bend I noticed a few fish rising. Some of them sizeable. After several rises and a couple long distance releases things had died down. Just as I was about to move a couple fish rose again. Great, I thought, they're not going to let me leave, but won't be caught. To my surprise a couple casts later I had a solid hookup. The seemingly small fish was full of energy and ran me all through the pool. When I brought the rainbow in I was surprised that it wasn't bigger, but still happy with the fish.

I was able to fool more rainbows and a couple browns, but none were bigger than a foot. Always nice to catch fish on dry flies. While bringing in a small rainbow I suddenly noticed I was looking at a much larger trout. I was wondering how such a big fish could be putting up so little resistance, when this bigger fish made a lunge toward my smaller trout that I had lost sight of. I suddenly realized my small trout was in danger of being swallowed alive. (I'd be lying if I didn't say I thought about letting my smaller fish work as bait for me, but I knew I couldn't let myself do that.) I pulled up hard to pull my fish out of the water and as this 6" fish came flying out of the water, a big brown head came up after it. The little rainbow made it to safety, kind of, and I quickly let him go. I have never gotten a fish off the hook faster. I think he somehow knew that he'd be better off staying still and letting me take the hook out quickly. He darted off and hid, probably thanking the all mighty fish god. The big, dark shadow disappeared just as mysteriously and quickly as it had appeared.

I knew this meant only one thing. Bull Trout. My first thought was to grab the 6 weight and have at it. My second thought was, " Would I really want to catch such a remarkable creature?" Plus, my 6 weight wasn't rigged up properly and fish were still rising. So I caught a few more small trout and decided it was time. I had come to catch a Bull Trout and that's what I was going to do. I put on a white Double Bunny and starting swinging my streamer. I wasn't sure where this fish was, but I figured it was still around. I decided the area with no fish rising due to fear was where I should try. This was right by a big downed tree that was sticking into the water. Perfect ambush water. First cast, no luck, but I didn't get enough distance on it. I stripped out a little more line and tried again. As my fly swung by the log it suddenly stopped. Please don't be the log, please don't be the log I prayed. With the first head shake I knew who it was. I wish I could say it was some epic fight, but it wasn't. After a fast and furious start, it was more like bringing a stick in than a fish. After a few quick photos and release, I was thankful for having caught my first Bull Trout. (I had to throw in being thankful in since it's Thanksgiving tomorrow.) I decided things could only get worse from here, so I headed for the truck. What a great day, it had everything you can hope for. A good "fish story" of the one that got away, some dry fly action and some unexpected excitement to go along with a new trout (native I should add).

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Who says packaging doesn't sell?

High Lake Snow

I actually didn't watch the Penn State game today. Can you believe that? I decided I needed to take advantage of one of the last nice weekends of weather and probably my last weekend with free time. So, we decided to hike into a high lake (by Oregon standards, only around 3000 feet) for some fishing and camping.

It was a short hike and the weather was holding out for the most part, switching between sun and spitting rain. When we got to the lake, there were fish rising. By the time I got my fishing stuff set up, the fish had a change of plans and were nowhere to be found. I decided to fish a streamer for a while when all of the sudden I looked to the other end of the lake and saw these whisps of clouds coming over the lake. It looked like snow, but it just didn't seem cold enough for that. Quickly these clouds made their way over and I was hit by a wall of cold air and snow. That was more than I had bargained for and I started to pack up my stuff when just like that the weather cleared.

With the weather clearing, the fish started coming up again. I waded out and waited for a rise near me. When finally a couple fish near me started rising I tried to cast in front of them and intercept their path. Didn't happen. I tried again. Nothing. I finally realized the fish were moving so slowly in the cold weather I needed to cast much closer to the initial rise. I tried this tactic and was rewarded by a violent (by lake standards) rise. I pulled tight and felt the sweet head shake of a fish. Then I felt the not so sweet feeling of no resistance. I had been broken off. Heartened by the little bit of success I tied on a new fly and managed to catch a nice 16" brown trout. (Unfortunately, my camerawoman was too busy trying to stay warm to take a picture.) My short window of nice weather and good fishing closed and it started to rain (luckily it had warmed up a little). The fish shut down and I decided it was probably a good time to go. With both Britt and I wet and cold, we changed plans and drove back to Springfield. It sure felt nice to be warm and dry again.

Metolius River and First OR Backcountry Lake

Went with Britt on a fishing trip to the Metolius River and a lake in the Cascades. Left Friday after class and drove a couple hours into the middle of nowhere, actually it wasn't far from places, just felt like the middle of nowhere. After a quick mile hike, we were at a small lake that I was hoping would have Brook Trout, but the stocking record the last couple years made it seem like it'd be more than likely Rainbow Trout. The lake was muddy and I decided to use the downed trees as my casting platform. As you can see from the picture, I've fished from steadier ground before. With very little light left in the day, I only had about an hour to work my magic. Unfortunately my only magic was getting trout to viciously attack a skated caddis, but not to be hooked for more than a second. One 12" fish made like a great white and flew threw the air after hitting the fly. How I managed to not catch any of these fish is beyond me. In my world the only thing better than fishing a secluded lake at the end of a day is to fish a secluded stream at sunset (other than a Penn State victory, of course).

Metolius River

This big spring creek turned into a river was beautiful and seems like it should be full of fish, but you could fool me. I only caught a couple small Rainbows and an ill gotten Whitefish. I did see two big Rainbows cruising around by the bridge, but they seemed to have lockjaw from being continuously harassed. Oh well, in such pretty country you can't always expect to catch a lot of fish. Maybe next time there will be a more serious hatch and I might see some fish rising. That'd be nice.

Next to the Pacific, to be specific

I just had to use that line.

First Oregon Trout

I did catch fish bigger and, somehow, also caught smaller fish. This is my first Oregon fish. Hope to catch many more (and much bigger).