Showing posts with label olympic peninsula. Show all posts
Showing posts with label olympic peninsula. Show all posts
Thursday, July 3, 2014
DamNation On Demand
For those who cannot make a film festival or show up to a showing at your local fly shop, click the link below to watch this great documentary at home.
DamNation OnDemand - Vimeo
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
First Trip Back
I left the Olympic Peninsula in September of 2005 after closing up my charter fishing business. Leaving started a journey of jobs and cities I might never have discovered had I remained. My journey back to the peninsula began in the winter of 2009.
My first trip back to the coast was in February 2009. I had some vacation time so I decided to make the long drive out to the coast from Colorado. What made this winter steelhead trip on the coast unique was the lack of rain for the entirety of the trip. The upside was that the larger glacial rivers were low and fishable for my entire trip as well as the bright, sunny weather. The bad thing was that there just were not a lot of fish around.
I fished hard for the first four days with nothing to show for it. What I could have never anticipated was that the years away from steelheading messed up my mind a bit. My memories gave more weight to the fish I had hooked in the past and had minimized the skunkings. The tough fishing I had experienced vanished from my memories as the trip approached. Of course the hyped-up fishing reports and blogs on the internet did not help. I had this laughable notion that I could just come back and quickly start hooking fish again. The first four days were a rude awakening.
The reality of steelhead fly fishing and my past memories couldn't have been further apart. I was unsure of where I should fish and really started to question my fishing decisions and my skill swinging the fly. I had entered a deep state of despair so I decided to take a break for a day and clear my head. I decided that a walk through the rainforest would be just the ticket to calm the static in my brain.
The next morning I arrived at the trailhead and just started walking. The hike was along a riverside trail but I was not wearing waders or carrying a fly rod. Three hours later I was well upstream and feeling much better. There is something calming about the simple act of walking and I sure needed it. I arrived back at the car feeling refreshed and ready to fish the next day.
During the walk I realized that I was probably not going to hook a fish during my trip. The low water and lack of fish were not working in my favor. I had to find another way to make the trip great. I came to the realization that the simple act of fishing the water well would have to do. I had to let go of all of the expectations I had before the trip and just simply enjoy spending time on the river regardless of the fish.
This realization did not come easy for me. It is hard to put aside expectations and push the ego aside and just fish for the simple act of fishing. Even today it can sometimes be difficult to go against the grain and do things your own way regardless of how everyone else is doing it (often with more success).
After setting aside my expectations and just working on fishing well you can imagine what happened. I ended up hooking a single fish about three hours of fishing "well." The fish was only on for maybe fifteen seconds but that single fish made the entire trip worth it.
I eventually moved back to the Olympic Peninsula about a year later. I try to remember the moment that fish grabbed the fly mid-swing whenever I am in the midst of a fish-less stretch or tempted to fish in ways I dislike just to catch a fish. I try to remember that fishing well is its own reward.
My first trip back to the coast was in February 2009. I had some vacation time so I decided to make the long drive out to the coast from Colorado. What made this winter steelhead trip on the coast unique was the lack of rain for the entirety of the trip. The upside was that the larger glacial rivers were low and fishable for my entire trip as well as the bright, sunny weather. The bad thing was that there just were not a lot of fish around.
I fished hard for the first four days with nothing to show for it. What I could have never anticipated was that the years away from steelheading messed up my mind a bit. My memories gave more weight to the fish I had hooked in the past and had minimized the skunkings. The tough fishing I had experienced vanished from my memories as the trip approached. Of course the hyped-up fishing reports and blogs on the internet did not help. I had this laughable notion that I could just come back and quickly start hooking fish again. The first four days were a rude awakening.
The reality of steelhead fly fishing and my past memories couldn't have been further apart. I was unsure of where I should fish and really started to question my fishing decisions and my skill swinging the fly. I had entered a deep state of despair so I decided to take a break for a day and clear my head. I decided that a walk through the rainforest would be just the ticket to calm the static in my brain.
The next morning I arrived at the trailhead and just started walking. The hike was along a riverside trail but I was not wearing waders or carrying a fly rod. Three hours later I was well upstream and feeling much better. There is something calming about the simple act of walking and I sure needed it. I arrived back at the car feeling refreshed and ready to fish the next day.
During the walk I realized that I was probably not going to hook a fish during my trip. The low water and lack of fish were not working in my favor. I had to find another way to make the trip great. I came to the realization that the simple act of fishing the water well would have to do. I had to let go of all of the expectations I had before the trip and just simply enjoy spending time on the river regardless of the fish.
This realization did not come easy for me. It is hard to put aside expectations and push the ego aside and just fish for the simple act of fishing. Even today it can sometimes be difficult to go against the grain and do things your own way regardless of how everyone else is doing it (often with more success).
After setting aside my expectations and just working on fishing well you can imagine what happened. I ended up hooking a single fish about three hours of fishing "well." The fish was only on for maybe fifteen seconds but that single fish made the entire trip worth it.
I eventually moved back to the Olympic Peninsula about a year later. I try to remember the moment that fish grabbed the fly mid-swing whenever I am in the midst of a fish-less stretch or tempted to fish in ways I dislike just to catch a fish. I try to remember that fishing well is its own reward.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Not Recommended
2013 WDFW Rule Proposals to Comment On
Looks like rule proposals to reduce harvest of wild steelhead and reduce angling efficiency will not be recommended by WDFW.
Sad that a no angling from floating device seems to have divided the wild fish advocate community. It seems that there were two types of disapproval of the "no fishing from floating device" rules.
The first was that people did not like the rule. Most in this camp fish out of boats and did not want to change their tactics.
The second were people who felt that they went too far and might have too much of an impact on the sportfishing community or only wanted the regulations to cover a watershed with minimal boat impacts.
I have a different take about a "pick one river" approach. I do think the rules should be approved for all of the rivers on the coast. If only one could be picked wouldn't you want the one not consistently meeting escapement, has massive boat pressure, and the data shows that up to 75% of the escapement is caught and released some years.
Forget the idea that it may cause the most impact to guides and anglers. Just based on the fish alone, the Hoh River should be the first with a no fishing from boats rule. It would have a real impact as long as WDFW still refuses to even deal with wild steelhead release, or bait bans.
We have made so much progress over the past few years. We have gotten hatcheries shut down. We have gotten wild steelhead management zones in place. We've won fights on planting Chambers Creek alien steelhead in the Elwha. We still have lots of work to do and time is running out.
Losing this is a step backwards. To hell if WDFW doesn't think we should comment on "no fishing from floating devices." Send them comments. Let them know that wild steelhead come first. They should come before the interests of those who fight every conservation idea such as most of the guides and the City of Forks. They were wrong on wild steelhead release, Snider Creek, Wild Olympics, and they are dead wrong on these issues.
More wild fish and a quality fishing experience are long-term economic engines that will benefit all of those who now oppose these regulations. Change is hard but it must come or the change we face is not what anyone wants to see.
Looks like rule proposals to reduce harvest of wild steelhead and reduce angling efficiency will not be recommended by WDFW.
Sad that a no angling from floating device seems to have divided the wild fish advocate community. It seems that there were two types of disapproval of the "no fishing from floating device" rules.
The first was that people did not like the rule. Most in this camp fish out of boats and did not want to change their tactics.
The second were people who felt that they went too far and might have too much of an impact on the sportfishing community or only wanted the regulations to cover a watershed with minimal boat impacts.
I have a different take about a "pick one river" approach. I do think the rules should be approved for all of the rivers on the coast. If only one could be picked wouldn't you want the one not consistently meeting escapement, has massive boat pressure, and the data shows that up to 75% of the escapement is caught and released some years.
Forget the idea that it may cause the most impact to guides and anglers. Just based on the fish alone, the Hoh River should be the first with a no fishing from boats rule. It would have a real impact as long as WDFW still refuses to even deal with wild steelhead release, or bait bans.
We have made so much progress over the past few years. We have gotten hatcheries shut down. We have gotten wild steelhead management zones in place. We've won fights on planting Chambers Creek alien steelhead in the Elwha. We still have lots of work to do and time is running out.
Losing this is a step backwards. To hell if WDFW doesn't think we should comment on "no fishing from floating devices." Send them comments. Let them know that wild steelhead come first. They should come before the interests of those who fight every conservation idea such as most of the guides and the City of Forks. They were wrong on wild steelhead release, Snider Creek, Wild Olympics, and they are dead wrong on these issues.
More wild fish and a quality fishing experience are long-term economic engines that will benefit all of those who now oppose these regulations. Change is hard but it must come or the change we face is not what anyone wants to see.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
It Finally Begins
Elwha Dam Removal Finally Begins
This upcoming Thursday is when the concrete starts coming down.
While there has been tons of recent discussions about some of the problems with the Elwha River fish restoration plan this week will be purely about celebrating the opportunity to right a giant wrong.
Wish I had tickets to the actual celebration, but will be looking forward to getting back to the Olympic Peninsula in time for this historic dam removal and the talk by Yvon Choinard.
This upcoming Thursday is when the concrete starts coming down.
While there has been tons of recent discussions about some of the problems with the Elwha River fish restoration plan this week will be purely about celebrating the opportunity to right a giant wrong.
Wish I had tickets to the actual celebration, but will be looking forward to getting back to the Olympic Peninsula in time for this historic dam removal and the talk by Yvon Choinard.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Gold Rush in Thar Hills
Good thing we can damage our fish bearing streams for Chinese pallet manufacturers.
Chinese demand boosting Peninsula log exports to ‘astronomical’ levels
"The phenomenon has boosted the wood products industry on the North Olympic Peninsula, he said, because it’s allowed for timber harvests that wouldn’t be happening otherwise.
It’s a bit of a gold rush mentality right now,” Stutesman said.
I don’t know when it will change, but let’s hope it doesn’t.....
The wood that’s going there . . . is primarily for forming material that they use to make the concrete housing units, also for packaging and pallet material.”
Chinese demand boosting Peninsula log exports to ‘astronomical’ levels
"The phenomenon has boosted the wood products industry on the North Olympic Peninsula, he said, because it’s allowed for timber harvests that wouldn’t be happening otherwise.
It’s a bit of a gold rush mentality right now,” Stutesman said.
I don’t know when it will change, but let’s hope it doesn’t.....
The wood that’s going there . . . is primarily for forming material that they use to make the concrete housing units, also for packaging and pallet material.”
Monday, March 21, 2011
How things have changed
I got a chance to read a recent article in the Tacoma paper about "fly fishing" for steelhead on the Olympic Peninsula.
Link to TNT Article
Here are some quotes.
"I could see it was a steelhead, bringing a smile to my face. I also noticed something amiss – I had foul hooked the fish in the tail. That explained why the fairly small fish was putting up such a fight....I was now 0-for-2."
"Fancy flies aren’t always necessary to catch steelhead. A plastic bead and a bare hook often do just as well."
You decide whether this type of article is good for steelhead, the pressure on the West End rivers, or gives an accurate picture of fly fishing for winter steelhead.
Link to TNT Article
Here are some quotes.
"I could see it was a steelhead, bringing a smile to my face. I also noticed something amiss – I had foul hooked the fish in the tail. That explained why the fairly small fish was putting up such a fight....I was now 0-for-2."
"Fancy flies aren’t always necessary to catch steelhead. A plastic bead and a bare hook often do just as well."
You decide whether this type of article is good for steelhead, the pressure on the West End rivers, or gives an accurate picture of fly fishing for winter steelhead.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Snider Creek - Part 3
The good folks at the Wild Steelhead Coalition have put out some comments and discussion points about the program and early wild winter steelhead populations.
Snider Creek Comments
Snider Creek Discussion Points
You still have time to send in comments to snidercreek@dfw.wa.gov
Check out the Wild Steelhead Coalition and if you're not a member, you should be.
Wild Steelhead Coalition
Snider Creek Comments
Snider Creek Discussion Points
You still have time to send in comments to snidercreek@dfw.wa.gov
Check out the Wild Steelhead Coalition and if you're not a member, you should be.
Wild Steelhead Coalition
Sunday, November 14, 2010
It Begins
It's that time of year, where chrome bright winter steelhead start moving up the rivers. The first part of the run is now mostly hatchery fish, but there are still a few resilient early natives mixed in. Yesterday I met one.
It was a classic NW Winter day. Low cloud cover, mid-40's temperature, and drizzle where the green of the forests is almost washed away by the oppressive gray pushing down from the sky. The river was dirty with about one to two feet of visibility, adding another surface of gray to the pallet. I worked my way downstream floating and fishing. I arrive at the run I wanted to focus on and start fishing. The fly is swinging well and about twenty casts into the run I feel a grab, and then nothing. The grab always feels like lightning going through your veins, but the lack of connection is always disappointing. This time of year, the question with a large grab is "what was that?" Was it a king, coho, or steelhead? A question I will never know.
I continued to work down the run as the current mellowed the fly started ticking the bottom and hanging up occasionally. The answer was a lighter tip, so I looped on five feet of T-14 and continued to fish. Then a swing was interrupted once a again by a pull. My mind quickly shifts back to fishing from gazing at the bald eagle squawking on the tall river side tree. I feel a second pull, then feel line start coming off my reel, and then come tight to a fish. Instantly the fish is running. I look towards the line streaming downstream and see white, the color of backing. Then a jump, and all I can see is a distant flash of silver in the air. I start moving down the gravel bar gaining back some of the line. This fish is strong and feels heavier than the fish I saw jump. I wonder if I have foul hooked a salmon because of the heavy feel. But I can gain line easily when the fish stops so that thought passes. Another couple fast runs and one of my favorite types of jumps happens. The fish jumps ten feet to the side of where your line enters the river. I work the fish quickly towards the beach. As I get it in the shallows I see that it is a steelhead with a big fat adipose fin and any thoughts of being foul hooked are gone when I see the fly lodged in the fish's mouth. I quickly grab the leader and tail this magnificent twelve pound hen as the hook falls out. I take a quick look at the perfectly clean fins and release my grip. She quickly charges off back into the gray water. After the release I am struck by this fish. The power and speed combined to make this one of the hottest fish I have ever hooked, including fish on rivers notorious for their hot steelhead.
I fished for a few more hours with the only other grab was a small bull trout, but I am struck by what a rare experience I had today. Early run native winter steelhead were historically much more abundant than they currently are. Decades of hatchery plants along with non-selective harvest have made this segment of the steelhead population a rarity. The fact that native fish continue to hold on in the face of everything we can throw at them amazes me. Sometime we fishermen get to see and hold a trace of the past, but far too often we are only left with the stories from old timers of what it used to be like. At least for today those are not just stories.
It was a classic NW Winter day. Low cloud cover, mid-40's temperature, and drizzle where the green of the forests is almost washed away by the oppressive gray pushing down from the sky. The river was dirty with about one to two feet of visibility, adding another surface of gray to the pallet. I worked my way downstream floating and fishing. I arrive at the run I wanted to focus on and start fishing. The fly is swinging well and about twenty casts into the run I feel a grab, and then nothing. The grab always feels like lightning going through your veins, but the lack of connection is always disappointing. This time of year, the question with a large grab is "what was that?" Was it a king, coho, or steelhead? A question I will never know.
I continued to work down the run as the current mellowed the fly started ticking the bottom and hanging up occasionally. The answer was a lighter tip, so I looped on five feet of T-14 and continued to fish. Then a swing was interrupted once a again by a pull. My mind quickly shifts back to fishing from gazing at the bald eagle squawking on the tall river side tree. I feel a second pull, then feel line start coming off my reel, and then come tight to a fish. Instantly the fish is running. I look towards the line streaming downstream and see white, the color of backing. Then a jump, and all I can see is a distant flash of silver in the air. I start moving down the gravel bar gaining back some of the line. This fish is strong and feels heavier than the fish I saw jump. I wonder if I have foul hooked a salmon because of the heavy feel. But I can gain line easily when the fish stops so that thought passes. Another couple fast runs and one of my favorite types of jumps happens. The fish jumps ten feet to the side of where your line enters the river. I work the fish quickly towards the beach. As I get it in the shallows I see that it is a steelhead with a big fat adipose fin and any thoughts of being foul hooked are gone when I see the fly lodged in the fish's mouth. I quickly grab the leader and tail this magnificent twelve pound hen as the hook falls out. I take a quick look at the perfectly clean fins and release my grip. She quickly charges off back into the gray water. After the release I am struck by this fish. The power and speed combined to make this one of the hottest fish I have ever hooked, including fish on rivers notorious for their hot steelhead.
I fished for a few more hours with the only other grab was a small bull trout, but I am struck by what a rare experience I had today. Early run native winter steelhead were historically much more abundant than they currently are. Decades of hatchery plants along with non-selective harvest have made this segment of the steelhead population a rarity. The fact that native fish continue to hold on in the face of everything we can throw at them amazes me. Sometime we fishermen get to see and hold a trace of the past, but far too often we are only left with the stories from old timers of what it used to be like. At least for today those are not just stories.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Good for the soul
Ventured out to the coast over the past few days. I find the area therapeutic. From long hikes through the rainforests to swinging flies through glacial colored rivers. Truly a paradise, and every time I venture there I remember those who fought so hard to create the National Parks and protected areas that now are oasis's for our souls. Also a reminder that the fight is not over and we need to continue to protect not only the land that sustains fisheries but the practices that cause harm that habitat cannot fix. Maybe it was the beautiful native fish I tailed for a quick release but I cannot help but feel somewhat hopeful that change, however slow, can be implemented and conditions can improve.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Freak Out
The drift started uneventfully, worked my way down river stopping and swinging through one run in the cold morning shade. That was interesting. The rod, guides, and reel froze up quickly making working a good length of line with a short head pretty difficult. No fish, so I kept moving downstream. As I approached a drift boat plugging a tailout I saw them jump up as a steelhead took their plug. "Not a bad sign," I thought as a drifted past into the next run.
The next run already had anglers from boats in it, but they were focused on the lower end and drift fishing. I walked down to one of the anglers and asked if I could work the head of the run, further upstream. "No problem," was the response I was hoping for so I walked back to the raft, grabbed my rod and stepped into the water. I flipped my line out and thought my fly looked funny. I grabbed it and realized it was frozen solid... it was more number 2 pencil than a fluffy intruder-ish type fly. I warmed it up and started working my line out swinging the fly through the water. I was about to start stepping downstream after working my line out when I felt that pull. The cold probably slowed my reactions down as line started coming off the reel... but quickly the frozen thoughts warmed up and I went crazy. I lurched back on the rod like I was going to set the hook on a tarpon. I picture myself with my back angled 45 degrees from my hips pulling the rod backwards. Of course, I'm gonna blame the loss of the fish on a dull hook, a grab closer to the hangdown, or something other than the fact that I went beserk after months away from steelheading and then a massive slump since moving back to the Northwest fishing interior rivers enjoying record runs of steelhead. I'm sure a muttered a foul word or two before getting back to business and working this run twice before drifting further downstream.
I didn't encounter any other fish that day, but I swung some beautiful water and tried some water types I might have passed over on previous trips with the hope that come warmer temps and warmer seasons (spring) some native fish might be resting just primed to jump all over a swung fly.
Hope to get back soon and find my steelhead slump-buster. Hope these pictures get you thinking about swinging flies through emerald green glacial streams for your slump-buster, however long or short the slump is.
The next run already had anglers from boats in it, but they were focused on the lower end and drift fishing. I walked down to one of the anglers and asked if I could work the head of the run, further upstream. "No problem," was the response I was hoping for so I walked back to the raft, grabbed my rod and stepped into the water. I flipped my line out and thought my fly looked funny. I grabbed it and realized it was frozen solid... it was more number 2 pencil than a fluffy intruder-ish type fly. I warmed it up and started working my line out swinging the fly through the water. I was about to start stepping downstream after working my line out when I felt that pull. The cold probably slowed my reactions down as line started coming off the reel... but quickly the frozen thoughts warmed up and I went crazy. I lurched back on the rod like I was going to set the hook on a tarpon. I picture myself with my back angled 45 degrees from my hips pulling the rod backwards. Of course, I'm gonna blame the loss of the fish on a dull hook, a grab closer to the hangdown, or something other than the fact that I went beserk after months away from steelheading and then a massive slump since moving back to the Northwest fishing interior rivers enjoying record runs of steelhead. I'm sure a muttered a foul word or two before getting back to business and working this run twice before drifting further downstream.
I didn't encounter any other fish that day, but I swung some beautiful water and tried some water types I might have passed over on previous trips with the hope that come warmer temps and warmer seasons (spring) some native fish might be resting just primed to jump all over a swung fly.
Hope to get back soon and find my steelhead slump-buster. Hope these pictures get you thinking about swinging flies through emerald green glacial streams for your slump-buster, however long or short the slump is.
Finally, The River
The next morning was cold and the alarm clock is especially jarring when tucked into a warm sleeping bag. I shoved a quick breakfast into my stomach and started the car with enough time for the heaters to melt the ice on the inside of the windows. I drove to the takeout, packed everything I'd need for the day into the Water Master bag and started walking.
Walking along the frost covered roadways was interesting. The occasional log truck heading to work blew by. I quickly turned off the headlamp as the half moon illuminated the clear morning. Slowly, the gloves came off and then the hat was replaced with the hoody from my base layer. Carrying a 45 lb raft plus my gear was at least keeping me warm. Thank god for the Nice frame and sling I ordered from Mystery Ranch company (Mystery Ranch). Nothing like being able to put some of that weight on my hips.
I eventually made it off the main road and onto the dirt road leading to the launch. I walked another mile and a half as the distant sun started lightening the sky. Eventually I heard the rumble of a couple vehicles coming up from behind. The rattle was a sure sign one was towing a drift boat. Even though I was within a half a mile of the ramp, my thump shot out to attempt to save a bit of energy. The first vehicle passed but the truck towing the drift boat stopped. I jumped into the back of the pickup, although jump might not be the best term for climbing into the back of a pickup with a 50+ pound pack on. Off we drove to the launch. We drove out onto the gravel bar and I hopped out, gave a quick "Thanks!" to the driver and started getting my gear together.
I was still toasty from my human-propelled shuttle, but I was struck by something I hadn't seen before on river rocks.... hoar frost.
Walking along the frost covered roadways was interesting. The occasional log truck heading to work blew by. I quickly turned off the headlamp as the half moon illuminated the clear morning. Slowly, the gloves came off and then the hat was replaced with the hoody from my base layer. Carrying a 45 lb raft plus my gear was at least keeping me warm. Thank god for the Nice frame and sling I ordered from Mystery Ranch company (Mystery Ranch). Nothing like being able to put some of that weight on my hips.
I eventually made it off the main road and onto the dirt road leading to the launch. I walked another mile and a half as the distant sun started lightening the sky. Eventually I heard the rumble of a couple vehicles coming up from behind. The rattle was a sure sign one was towing a drift boat. Even though I was within a half a mile of the ramp, my thump shot out to attempt to save a bit of energy. The first vehicle passed but the truck towing the drift boat stopped. I jumped into the back of the pickup, although jump might not be the best term for climbing into the back of a pickup with a 50+ pound pack on. Off we drove to the launch. We drove out onto the gravel bar and I hopped out, gave a quick "Thanks!" to the driver and started getting my gear together.
I was still toasty from my human-propelled shuttle, but I was struck by something I hadn't seen before on river rocks.... hoar frost.
After getting geared up with foot warmers (the adhesive toe warmers work great), I pumped up the raft and slowly started floating down the river.
Friday, December 11, 2009
The Frigid Dusk
Just returned from my first trip back to the rainforest since last February. I always feel refreshed after spending a day fishing these beautiful wild rivers. I am a huge fan of the National Park system as well which only adds to the joy of being in such a place.
I arrived the night before and decided to see if there would be any space available in a coastal campground. Luckily for me, there was a spot or two to choose from. The truth is that I don't think any one else was there. The cold temperatures seemed to keep everyone away. I backed into the spot and built a fire and enjoyed some dinner.
I arrived the night before and decided to see if there would be any space available in a coastal campground. Luckily for me, there was a spot or two to choose from. The truth is that I don't think any one else was there. The cold temperatures seemed to keep everyone away. I backed into the spot and built a fire and enjoyed some dinner.
The sounds of the surf were soothing as I watched the sun slowly set over the clouds sitting offshore.
I enjoyed the view and as the skies darkened the stars came out. The milky way seemed to dive from the heavens into the pounding surf. The occasional shooting star grabbed my attention but I knew that it was going to be an early morning so with visions of grabby steelhead dancing in my head I fell asleep to the Pacific's roaring sound machine.
Next.... an even colder dawn.
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