Shocking

The wife and I decided to check out the coastal cleanup happening today along the Washington Coast.  Their site is Coast Savers.

I've spent some time hiking the coastal beaches in the past and must have had blinders on.  I cannot believe the amount of garbage we were able to pick up in a short time.  Tons of rope, plastic bottles, fishing floats, tires, tuna cans, and miscellaneous junk all along our beaches.  I wish I could say this was an urban beach where the garbage came from local residents or industry, but this was a beach along between the Hoh and Queets Rivers in Olympic National Park.  Shocking that there's so much garbage on the beaches, but just as shocking is where it's coming from... our oceans and our consumption of plastic crap.  We've been working on reducing our plastic consumption before this cleanup and will work even harder now.

I'm ashamed at my past obliviousness towards the garbage on the beach.  Look forward to next year's cleanup along with carrying my own bag to pick up items whenever I get back out there.

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.

 

  

  

 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.