Ok, maybe not quite a bonanza. Blogging celebrity Matt Stansberry (fresh off a trip to DC lobbying for climate change legislation), Wild Bill and I descended onto our favorite backcountry stream. Descended is the word to use since we fell 1300 feet over a little less than 3 miles over rugged unmaintained trail to reach our destination. The way in though is relatively easy–it’s coming back out that’s the killer. We reached our destination about 9:00 am and started rigging up.
It was around this time that Stansberry realized he had a problem. His Sage had been rode hard and put away wet and while theoretically good for horses it isn’t that great a tactic for fly rods. The wooden insert had swollen and the reel seat was fused to the insert. Inertia can be a bummer.
The Onemule team crew of one, me, who had committed to making a solid fly rodding effort faced a dilemna. I could give him my 9′6″ 8 wt. Sage rod for the day or I could give him my 8′6 Lamiglas Cascade Pro Series 8#-12# level wind outfitted with a sweet Pflueger Supreme. Leaving him lying in the sun like a rock lizard as we fished didn’t seem a viable option. I opted to hook him up with my fly rod. Why? Well, Matt’s steelheading experience consists of fly fishing and I imagined his day–picking bird’s nests out of the Pflueger just wouldn’t be that fun for him. I knew that I could have fun fishing my gear rod and so it was decided.
Matt, overcome with my generosity offered to let me fish the first good hole. I was pretty behind the game since Matt was holding my intact Sage and I was struggling to get my Lami rigged–I told him to go ahead. Just getting my reel seated on the Lami, I heard Matt yelling ‘Fish on!’ He waited about 12 seconds . . . ‘Fish on!’ . . . (12 seconds) Fish on!’ I scrambled to get my camera and ran down to the stream.
Matt did an admirable job fighting the fish as I took pictures or stood on the ledge that jutted into the river hoping to discourage the fish from running over the ledge and popping the leader. Matt does battle:
He led it into the shallows and I tailed the fish.
(This is what a guy looks like who just caught a steelhead on his third cast on his buddy’s fly rod–and he called me smarmy!) We told Wild Bill that we would continue heading upstream and I briefly fished a spot that is always good for a salmon (but not steelhead, or so I thought) and moved on. Matt moved in behind me and picked my pocket. It was with a mixture of emotions that I took some video, misidentified the fish as dark during the battle, helped him land a nice buck and snapped a few pictures.
We continued to head upstream to a hole that almost always holds fish. No dice though and Matt opted to head back saying he wanted to check on Wild Bill-but I suspect the real reason was that he had a turkey sandwich back at camp. I continued to head upstream past a giant old-growth spruce laying across the creek. My interest was piqued as I explored and fished new water. I cast my spinner into the first productive looking run above the spruce and felt the tell-tale grab. Finally a connection! I fought the nice hen and slid her onto the bank, taking this photo:
(Biggest fish of the day, for the record.)
After giving her mouth to mouth she swam away under her own power and I kept moving upstream. I found a hole beneath a susbtantial drop and worked my spinner though it. Within a few feet of me a large buck took a swipe at the lure but missed. I continued to work it for a couple minutes and my rod slowly buckled–just a steady pull. I thought I had the bottom but realized an instant later that it was the fish again. Too late.
I continued to walk upstream but it looked shallow for about a quarter mile and a long walk to the rig was in front of us. My knee was screaming at me and I don’t remember the last time I felt so beat up after a few hours of fishing. I took lunch and met back up with my friends. The finally tally, 3 fish hooked solidly and three fish landed. Not too shabby.
Every other step on the way out was agonizing and this old Mule plans on adding another tool to the fishing arsenal: the knee brace.
Biggest catch? Unverified!!!
And yeah, I look smarmy as hell.
I verified it with my two peepers that saw every fish caught, sorry you get the prize for most caught but biggest caught goes to the mule. I am also in the process of some serious mathematical work with which I will come up with the length and weight.
You need all the glory or something?
The fish was approximately 32.5 inches in length (32.410).
Girth was approximately 16.750.
((16.750 x 16.750) x 32.410)/ 800 = 11.36#s
[...] 18, 2008 by mstansberry So if you follow the Mule, you’ve probably heard. I caught not one, but two wild winter steelhead last weekend. [...]
Good job boys! It sounds like it was worth the grueling hike out, except maybe for the dude who got skunked. You guys are super lucky to have discovered a “backcountry” steelhead stream. Have you ever spent the night there? How do you get your picture to show up when you post a comment?
Yeah, I spend several nights down there every year. This year was Matt’s initiation to the secret spot and I’m sure he’ll be down there on a semi-annual basis too. Even for WB I think it was worth it . . . new beautiful country. It was his first time down there. There are some Doug firs and Sitka spruce that will knock your socks off. I don’t think my avatar shows up on your site when I post a comment so I think it might be a publisher thing and it just shows up when commenting on other wordpress blogs. Any fishing down your way?
Yes, I fished on Saturday and Sunday. I will post about later today.
[...] Karl said the hen, the first fish ran about seven pounds. It slammed my fly on the third cast, actually on the swing and not dead drifted. The buck, which was a little bigger, I hooked on the dead drift, upstream in a boulder garden. [...]