The pursuit of winter steelhead can challenge your faith: Are there any fish in the river? Are we fishing with the right flies? The appropriate techniques? Does it hurt our chances that we are following thirty other boats down the river? . . . (OK, actually 29).

A recent weekend of fishing was a case in point. On Saturday, the Siletz looked like someone had organized a drift boat flash mob. Guys parked in the middle of the river, pitched their offerings to both banks, and then yelled at you for floating over “their water.” The river was running high from a spate of rain but dropping and green, and the bait guys were getting some fish. Marky and Jamie fished hard and convincingly. We got to witness 3 fish landed in others’ boats while enjoying a complete skunking on flies.

Day two, we met later in the morning and dug in our heels early in the day. By lunchtime, the last of the boats floated by, and we had the river to ourselves for an afternoon of pleasant spring weather and emerald steelhead water. But the steelhead remained elusive. Marky had a hookup on a backtrolled plug, but we never saw it before it came unbuttoned. Jamie landed a sea-run cutthroat. We had a nice lunch.

Seven hours into our second day (15 hours of fishing into the trip), and the steelhead still eluded us. Jamie suggested we might as well be fishing for unicorns, as we’d probably have as much chance of success. But faith in the river and the method will always be rewarded eventually, right? In a way, the lack of success that often characterizes steelheading is what makes it so special. The dues paid distinguish true steelheaders from the average angler.  And when your faith is strong, every day is worth it as long as there is a chance, a hope for success.

Did Jamie really land a perfect chrome-bright wild hen in the last hour of the weekend adventure? Do unicorns exist? See for yourself. The truth is out there.

The recent stretch of dry weather and low water conditions on the lower McKenzie enticed Fred and me into a float yesterday in search of some Mid-Winter Redsides.  The scene was austere:  cold water, grey skies broken occasionally by sun, lone red tail hawks, kingfishers, and herons winging silently overhead.

A sparse blue-winged olive emergence did little to excite the trout, but nymphing with larger offerings consistently brought some excellent rainbows to hand.

The 2013 trout season is quietly getting underway.  Don’t forget about the Two Dudes Spring McKenzie Special:  $275 for 1-2 anglers from now through April 20, 2013.  Let’s shake the dust off that trout rod.  

During a recent mutli-week visit to the US, two of the top Taimen Fly Fishing Guides in the world took a few days to visit Eugene and the Oregon Coast. Bayaraa Bataar, Ganaa Enbenesh and I were joined by High Desert Drifter and 2008 Taimen Camp alumna, Jeff Coughenhour for a mission into the wilds of the Oregon Coast Range. The weather was perfect, the steelhead fishing was slow (not unlike Taimen Fishing), and the trip was a roaring success. Here are a few images from the adventure.

The “second season” for winter steelhead is now in swing.

Warming water temps and longer days are in store in the coming weeks. The steelhead are in and more are coming. Tight Lines!

On a recent family visit to the Puerto Vallarta region of Mexico, I had the opportunity to join one of my old Mongolia guide buddies, Chip King, for a day on the waters of the tropical Pacific. Chip crews all winter on the “Redneck,” a 75′ luxury yacht geared for heavy duty ocean outings in pursuit of Dorado, Yellowfin Tuna, Marlin, etc.  I jumped at the invitation to try a kind of fishing I’d never experienced. I’d always assumed that this kind of fishing had the potential to be soul-crushingly boring but hoped for a chance to see something completely out of scale from the normal world of Oregon fly fishing.
We spent the night before the trip on the boat. Entering the marina in Nuevo Vallarta, we passed a prominent reminder of a previous glory day for the Redneck.

Chip and I drank a few beers and fished live baits pilfered from the Redneck’s livewell under the dock lights in the marina.

We caught a corvina, some red snapper, and saw a few snook. Something unidentified that looked like about a 40 pounder swam through in pursuit of the minnow, but it never closed the deal.
The next morning, I tried to be helpful without getting in the way. Tim, the Redneck’s captain got me quickly out of his hair by sending me off to swab the dew off the owner’s other boat (which we wouldn’t be using that day).
Around 6 a.m. the Redneck’s owner and his famlly/guests arrived. We left the marina in full darkness.  On the hour and a half run out of the Bahia de Banderas, we saw whales basking on the surface and dolphins dancing on the wake off the prow.

Once out to the open waters, the crew was on full scan for birds and spinner dolphins which would indicate feeding yellowfin tuna schools.

I was on call to deploy and reel in the rubber-skirted jigs that we trolled behind the boat. I had a hard time getting comfortable with the cartoonishly-scaled tackle.

And then. . .  nothing happened. We trolled around for about 12 hours, the owner and his guests got roaring drunk (or slept), and Chip served some excellent meals at strategic intervals. All in all it was like a first class transpacific airplane ride (with turbulence).

In the last 10 minutes of trolling with light failing, I saw one of the baits in the wake get grabbed. Line buzzed off the heavy reel and we all brought in the other rigs before pulling the rod from its holder. It fell to me to reel in the fish. I saw it jump: a large dorado that looked to be 40-50 pounds. I reeled it close to the boat sensing that the fish was still very green. Before we could get a good look at it, the fish made an astonishingly powerful lunge, and the 250 lb. shock tippet parted. Captain Tim howled with dismay, and that was that. We headed for port.

A unique fishing experience to be sure.  Thanks, Chip, Murray, Nick, Luis, and Captain Tim for the day.
In the future, I’ll probably stick to fly fishing.

Check out this video about a local project that Scott has been consulting on. A heartening environmental success story in the dark days of winter.

In no particular order, here are some cool shots from the 2012 season. Happy Holidays! See you on the water in 2013.

At the end of the 2012 Taimen season, Bayaraa and Ganaa stuck around to host some members of the Mongolian Fly Fishing Asssociation for a few days around the lower camp. They are currently working hard during the offseason to foster taimen conservation.  Check out the video that they created to increase awareness of proper catch-and-release technique.

In between rain events, the fishing has been pretty good wherever one chose to wet a line. From salmon on the coast to redsides in the valley, the fish are where you find them.

As the rain drums on the roof overhead, our attention shifts to the coast and the promise of fresh chome in the months to come.  But before we move on, here’s a look back at the magic of Autumn in the Valley.  Enjoy!