FLY FISHING NORTHEAST OREGON'S RIVERS
First Steelhead on a Fly
By Bill Schneider, 4-04-08
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| Wild Bill's first steelhead on a fly, not a big one, but huge for him. Photo by Ron Solberg | |
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Last year, I caught a steelhead and it gave me Steelhead Fever. So bad was the infliction that I immediately advanced to Phase 2 of the disease, the need to catch one of these silvery torpedoes on a fly.
I’m just back from fly fishing three incredible steelhead rivers in northeast Oregon, and I actually did it, caught my first steelhead on a fly. This hardly makes me an expert on fly fishing for steelhead, but if you have the fever and want to try it, this article might save you a little time.
Some rivers are more suited for fly fishing than others and very few rivers are set aside for fly-fishing-only. This means you can feel lonely--or special, I suppose--because 90 percent of the steelheaders you see will be using spinning or baitcasting rigs and be fishing with jigs or bait. And you can almost hear them thinking, “Flycasters, they don’t like to catch fish, just cast a lot.”
That’s a little closer to the truth that I’d like it to be, but I knew it going in. I’d have a better chance of catching steelhead with bait or jigs, but I left my spinning rods home, lest I suffer a moment of weakness, and only took my trusty 7 weight Loomis and the few steelhead flies I had. I picked up few more flies at two local fly shops, Four Seasons Fly Shoppe in La Grande and Blue Mountain Anglers in Pendleton. Both shop owners, incidentally, took the time to talk fishing with us and help get us started.
Northeast Oregon is a good choice for satiating your fly fishing fetish. Here, you have at least four amazing rivers in this almost forgotten corner of the state--Grande Ronde, Imnaha, Umatilla and Wallowa--all nicely suited for fly fishing.
After doing enough research to know northeast Oregon was a great choice, we decided to stay at Enterprise at a nice motel called the Ponderosa, walking distance from of our favorite places, the Terminal Gravity Brewery, where we enjoyed a great burger and a pint or two after a hard day of flycasting. Then, I reserved a day with Mac Huff of Eagle Cap Fishing Guides who has been guiding in the area, mostly on the Grande Ronde, for more than 20 years, specializing in fly fishing for steelhead.
He picked us up in Enterprise, and after a great breakfast at the only commercial establishment in the area, Bogans Oasis, we hit the Grande Ronde in his drift boat. The first thing Mac had to do was tactfully tell us to forget almost everything we knew about fly fishing for trout because very little of it worked on steelhead. With trout, for example, you usually fish a hole a few minutes then move on. Your best chance to catch a fish is probably your first cast, but according to Mac, steelhead often take your fly after seeing it twenty times or more. And these sea-run rainbows basically never hit a streamer or bugger when stripped in like trout do. Instead, you use a method called swinging, which involves letting the current swing your streamers downstream with no stripping.
But one method used on both trout and steelhead is nymph fishing with a strike indicator, which Mac had us do, using a two-fly set up much like I’ve used for browns and rainbows, only using bigger flies.
Sure enough, just like Mac said, after a couple of hours of drifting my strike indicator and the same flies though the same run dozens of times, it disappeared and I had a steelhead on. After about a five-minute battle, the big fish came up for an extended tail walk and threw out my fly.
Drat! But that’s why they call it fishing--and it only makes the fever stronger.
Discouraged but not deterred, I made what seemed like another thousand casts that day, but no more hook ups.
Mac gave it his best shot, and I learned a lot from him, but no steelhead. I’m quite sure it had nothing to do with his skills. If you need a good guide for steelhead in northeast Oregon, call him (800-940-3688).
Then, we were on our own--no guide, but significantly smarter about steelhead, so we decided to try the Wallowa, a smaller river flowing out of famous Wallowa Lake on the edge of the Eagle Cap Wilderness for about 50 miles before disappearing into the Grande Ronde. We started at a little motel and market at Minam, the same place I’d taken the Steelhead Train last year where I also spent a whole day casting but not catching steelhead.
Instead of taking the train, which was only running on weekends when we were there in late February, we walked a couple of miles down the railroad track following the river to a good hole. The hike cut down the crowds, but there were still plenty of steelheaders on the river. There always are.
Then, it happened. My fishing partner was doing some rigging, so while waiting for him, I ended up fishing the same seam over and over, At least two dozen times, I drifted the same flies the same way through the same water, and then a hook up. Steelhead on.
This time, after a great ten-minute fight, I had it by the tail. Not a big fish by steelhead standards, only 23 inches, but enormous for me.
Later that day, I had two more hook ups and one more fish by the tail, the other one lost at my feet when my knot failed. You think I’d know how to tie a knot after 50 years of fishing!
Nonetheless, a two-steelhead day, definitely above my expectations--and on my fly rod! So, it can be done.
The following day we probably should have gone back to the Wallowa, but since amassing local knowledge was one of our goals for the trip, we headed for the Imnaha River, a historic favorite of the Nez Perce that, like the Wallowa, flows out of the Eagle Cap Wilderness.
Getting there wasn’t easy. It’s almost a two-hour drive from Enterprise, including 14 miles on a rough, backcountry road that requires a high-clearance vehicle. The bumps and ruts and sheer drop offs didn’t detract from the scenery, which was worth the trip even without the prospect of another steelhead hitting my fly.
At the trailhead, we hiked a mile or two down a beautiful trail following the stream for four miles to the point where the Imnaha melts into the mighty Snake River just above the Hells Canyon Wilderness. We didn’t go all the way to the Snake because the classic pools and runs kept seducing us to stop and cast, which we did all day, but no hits--a great day fishing, but no catching, even though the river had a very “fishy” look about it. There must have been steelhead holding in those stunning pools and deep runs.
We talked to bait anglers who had caught fish, but for us, nothing, except a great day on the river, which is never a disappointment.
The next morning, we headed back to Montana, and as we drove, we planned our next trip. We’d be a little better next time. And with Steelhead Fever, there’s always a next time. If fact, my fever might progress to Phase 3, having to catch one on a dry fly.
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