Haven't posted in a while, as I haven't been on the water much lately. However, last week on a family vacation to Olympic National Park in Washington State I managed one day on the Hoh River to fish for steelhead.
I've never fished the Pacific northwest and knew relatively little about the fishery up there, other than that salmon, steelhead and trout swim the rivers leading out to the ocean. I only had one day to spare but didn't want to miss the opportunity to cast a fly for these fish. I contacted Waters West, a fly shop in the town of Port Angeles on the the Olympic peninsula. They rented me waders, boots and set me up with a guide for a trip down the Hoh River, which at this time of the year is the only stream with enough flow to float a boat.
My guide, Curt, picked me up outside the motel at 6:30 a.m. and we set out for an access point on the Hoh, which is about 75 miles from Port Angeles.
Once we arrived at the river, Curt handed me a Spey rod and gave me a casting lesson. Spey casting is the primary method for presenting a fly to steelhead when wading up there in the Pacific northwest. I've never casted a long two-handed rod before. It took me a bit to figure out how to fling the fly at the end of the line most of the way across the river, where it would then swing across the current and possibly attract a steelhead. Meanwhile, Curt got busy dunking his trailer off the inflatable raft we'd be fishing from for the day. Inflatables rather than drift boats are used at this time of year because they make less noise when scraping across the rocks when you are floating downstream.
I think I could get into Spey casting, given enough practice time, but I was glad when Curt said we were ready to set off in the raft down the Hoh. He switched me from the Spey to a conventional 8 weight Sage with a nymph and indicator rig. Actually, the rig was two orange egg flies below a couple of split shot and a bobber. We stuck with this set-up the entire day, never changing flies at all. Since steelhead don't feed when in freshwater streams, it apparently makes sense to lure them with bright egg flies rather than natural-looking nymphs.
Curt estimated the flow that day at around 600 cfs. It hadn't rained up there in quite a while. What sustains the river is melt-water from the Mount Olympus glacier, which is the primary source of the Hoh. In the upper stretch where we put in, the river only covered about a fifth of the gravel stream-bed. A couple times during the day Curt had to get out of the boat and pull us over rocks when we bottomed-out. Due to the lack of rainfall, Curt said the salmon had yet to make their fall migration up the river. Nevertheless, we might find some summer steelhead and possibly some sea-run cutthroat trout.
I have always assumed that northern salmon and steelhead rivers that connect to the ocean on either coast hold populations of resident trout. That's the case in Great Lakes streams, which also have salmon and steelhead. But Curt told me that the only resident fish in the rivers up there are whitefish; the state doesn't stock trout in the coastal rivers and so the only sport fish worth catching are anadramous, i.e. salmon, steelhead and sea-run cutthroat. This was news to me. When Curt had asked me a couple days earlier what kind of fishing I had in mind, I had told him if the steelhead were scarce, I'd be happy to catch trout all day. Well, I found out that wasn't an option. Since the cutthroat, like the salmon, hadn't made much of an appearance yet, it was going to be steelhead or nothing.
Early in the trip down the Hoh I hooked and brought to the boat what turned out to be a whitefish. I know whitefish are considered the bane of western trout anglers, but I was glad to get the skunk out of the boat.
Around 10:30, as we were passing through a deep pool with submerged rocks, my indicator dipped again. I lifted the rod tip and saw something flash at the end of my line. "That's a steelhead," Curt said.
The fish didn't jump or make long runs. I let it take line off the reel via the drag whenever it wanted. Meanwhile, Curt started rowing us over to a gravel beach where we could land the fish. He only carries a small net in his boat suitable for trout, preferring to seize larger fish by the tail in shallow water when they have been sufficiently tired out. Once the raft was beached, we both climbed out. I kept tension on the fish and reeled in slack whenever possible. Curt waded out toward the fish. I tried sliding it several times to him. Seeing Curt, the fish headed for deeper water each time he approached. Finally, exhausted, it allowed him to close his hand around its tail. I got out my camera and snapped some photos of him holding the fish, then he handed the fish off to me (slowly, carefully) and took the picture with his cell phone you see above. He said it was a male in the 7-9 pound range, probably a hatchery fish and not nearly as big as the wild 20 pounders that enter the river with the high water in the spring, but a beautiful fish nonetheless. I was certainly thrilled to have caught it!
We released the fish and got back on the river. After we ate lunch, I waded out into the river and had another go with the Spey rod in a broad, deep run that Curt said was suitable for swinging a fly. After about 20 minutes, I'd had enough and we resumed our journey down river. Curt maneuvered us through various runs, riffles, rapids and rock gardens, directing me where to cast my indicator rig. We did hook another small fish that came off before we got to identify it as either another whitefish or possibly a small cuttie.
All day long it had been bright and sunny. Perhaps the summer steelhead would have been more active with cloud cover and rain. But in terms of comfort and aesthetics, you couldn't ask for better weather. It was also very enjoyable to be able to talk fishing all day with someone who's as passionate about it as you are.
The final stretch we fished is called the Oxbow canyon (I think). Here, the river pours through a narrower gap between the trees on either shoreline and you find faster and more turbulent water. Many times we passed over a spot Curt considered fishy and then, once we reached the end of that run, would work hard on the oars to pull us back upstream so I could fish it again. I'm assuming he's seen fish come out of those places before and wanted to cover it as thoroughly as possible. But that morning steelhead turned out to be the only significant fish I caught. Still, it validated the day--not to mention the money it cost to be out there.
We exited the river around five o'clock. Curt re-loaded the raft on the trailer and we drove back to Port Angeles, arriving there around 6:45. It had been a very full day. I may never get back to fish that area again. But I'll definitely take the opportunity, if another one comes my way.
