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April 2008 NewsletterA Day of Fishing A Day on the River It’s a wonderful day to be on the River. Early February after a cold snap, a high, thin overcast, and the water temperature at 39 degrees. The river is running low and clear and not another angler to be found. The banks are still showing ice and snow from last weeks storm and the air temperature is in the high 40’s or low 50’s depending on where the canyon shadow falls. Armed with only waders, a wading staff and a camera, I am dogging Frank Moore and Steve Rajeff as they are in the process of making the casting and wading of the North Umpqua look easy. They started in the Boat Pool and the casts and drifts they put through the pocket under the far alders occur for me only in my dreams. Any fish willing to take a fly had ample opportunity to make his presence known. As we left the pool, Frank stopped and pointed down the wide, expansive gravel bar. “When I started fishing here in the ‘40’s, this bar was a grove of big fir trees. They shaded the water until about 11 in the morning.” “What happened to them, did a flood wash them out?” “No, the Forest Service cut them down as hazard trees in the early 60’s. I was hopping mad and went to the Forest Supervisors office to raise cain, but he saw me coming and ducked out. It was probably a good thing for me that he did!” At the Kitchen Pool, Steve with his small spey rod, covers the lower road-side portion of the pool from the middle stand, a difficult thing to do and beautiful to watch when a good caster does it with ease. Steve finished each drift with a snap-T then sent a tight loop delivering the fly to the far side at an angle that didn’t need much of a mend. That portion of the Kitchen rarely sees such good drifts, but there were no cooperating steelhead there. During the conversation on the walk down to the Mott Pool, a frivolous, unvoiced question came to my mind. Why do they call it the Mott POOL? Sure, it was named after Major Mott, but how could that long, narrow torrent of fast water be called a POOL? Also, why do so many taking fish hold in that fast, relatively deep, water? I guess if we knew all the answers, fishing wouldn’t be as much fun. The casting is relatively easy in the Mott, but the wading is sloppy, slick ledge rock that is mid-calf depth at one step and waist deep at the next. On the way out, Frank points down to one of the deep drops and warned Steve to beware of it. Steve, a big strong man, grins, reaches out with a one-armed bear hug and sweeps Frank across it. Frank shrugs, looks up at Steve and says “Thanks”. After finding no fish in the Mott, we decided to tackle the wade out to the Station Pool. Following them as far as prudence, or fear, allowed, I watch from mid-river as they proceed lock-step, arm-in-arm to the pool. The bottom is big, slick cobble and the water runs waist-deep and fast. There is no need for a camera out there unless they hook a fish so this seems like a case of discretion over valor on my part. As they are wading back, something strikes me that I’ve never seen before. Frank is on the down stream side of Steve. In the 40-odd years I’ve been fishing with Frank, he ALWAYS takes the upstream side to break current for the other wader. He’s 84 now and apparently will finally allow someone to provide a current break for him. Steve is aware of being upstream, but unaware of the honor Frank has bestowed by letting him be there. The last stop on the way out of the Camp water is Saw Tooth. This is a good photo-op pool. There’s no wading, the arch of Mott Bridge for a background and ample snow and ice on the bank for mood and tone. They effortlessly cast their flies far down and across the river into a holding lie that rarely sees such perfect drifts. The animated conversation centers around the uncooperative fish while the camera clicks. None of the other pools offer such chances for a good photograph. As Frank mends his line, Steve asks, “how would you like to go to Ireland with me this summer?” Frank hesitates a moment, “I’d love to but I can’t afford it. I’ve got to replace my old VW Golf, it’s got over 300,000 miles on it, and besides, Jeannie would never let me go to Ireland without her!” “Jeannie was included in the offer. I’m going over to do some casting clinics and I want you to go along to help. The hosts will put us up in their homes and our fees will off-set the airfare, so it won’t cost a lot of money. Besides, we’ll be there in June, the peak of Salmon season and they have water available for us to fish.” With his best leprechaun grin and eyes flashing, Frank replied, “Jeannie has always dreamed of going to Ireland, when do we leave?” It’s late afternoon, the temperature is falling and a big crab feed awaits at Frank’s cabin, but the lack of fish wears on the psyche. A drive up to Lower Red Man is in order. There, the fish can be seen and a good steeple caster can cover them. Several minutes of scanning the gravel bottom from the road reveal no fish, so no effort is made to crawl down the high, steep bank to make a few casts. We head back down the river and stop at the Thunder Mountain Pool across from the road to Frank’s cabin. With no back cast room, Steve and his spey rod gracefully present the fly to the ledge on the far side of the river. After watching several minutes of this, there is a severe temptation to go home, break my fly rods over my knee and take up golf. Back at the cabin, a wonderful evening is in the making. Jeannie is even more animated than usual and I suspect that news about a potential trip to Ireland has something to do with it. There is laughter aplenty, platters piled with fresh crab, potato salad, hot bread and cold beer. Those things, mixed with good company, are a hard combination to beat for memorable times. There is something about the North Umpqua that is strangely magnetic, and not all of it is the beauty of the river and the canyon or the mystery of its Steelhead. Much of the magnetism for many of us is from memories of fun-filled evenings around the Moore’s table. Their myriads of friends from all over the world, the wonderful tales told and the piles of good food from Jeannie’s wood stove make for a delightful finale to a day on the North Umpqua. North Umpqua Chronicle - April 11,2008 April 11, 2008, flow 2,500 fts. Water 42 degrees F. It is a fine sunny spring day, but this morning before I head upriver I receive an email from Rich Grost, with pictures of a semi truck and trailer that crashed into the river this morning about 6:30 at mile post 51, in the vicinity of the Copeland Creek Pool. The pictures of that wreckage sitting out in the middle of our river are rather jarring to see. I’m hoping I’ll be there in time to see it first hand. I am in high spirits as I head upriver and when I round the corner at Rock Creek and get on the straight stretch past Deadline, I can see that the Famous is open. Excellent! It’s been a very busy pool this spring, I assume for good reason, although I have fished it several times without a touch. But recently I got a tip from someone that will remain unnamed, about a different stand than I have been using, and I am anxious to try it. It is in the midst of a brushy area, and a little bit of a son of a bitch to cast from, but after several attempts, I get it right, and the fly swings nicely towards the holding lie, and I am thinking “wouldn’t it be nice if”…when WHAM! That’s a fish! I’ll be damned!! There are several heavy head-chugs and twisting and turning, then “poink,” the hook pops out…it wasn’t well hooked, but I’ll take it any way, it’s a fine way to start the day. As I cruise on up river I see the smashed up cab of the semi and the chip trailer come down river on individual trailers. I am amazed they got them out so fast. I never do find the exact location of the accident. I spend the rest of the day fishing Middle Clay Creek, the Circle “H,” Charcoal Point, the Gauge Pool, and Lower Mule Bridge, but never touch another fish. For the month of April so far, I’ve fished 5 days and had 3 hookups, for a ratio of 1.67 days per fish, which at this point is better than my 1l year April average of 2.82 days per fish. Hope it holds up. fishbum North Umpqua Chronicle - April 4, 2008 April 4, 2008, flow 2,400 cfs,water 40degrees F. For days, the weather has been sunny and pleasant, and the bright light has driven the fish into hiding and I seem to go days between hookups. There have been more fishermen out than I have ever seen on the winter river and they seem to know what they are doing. From time to time, I hear reports of fish caught at places like Upper Smith Springs, and the Circle “H”.
This morning we awaken to the sound of rain on the roof…a little weather system has blown in. I decide to leave the crowds behind today and go to the upper river, but when I pass by the Light rain falls as I start at I pull over at
The fishing has seemed slow this winter and I am surprised when my records for March show that I am hooking up every 1.8 days. My 10 year average for March is 2.43 days per. I’ll be damned, maybe catch and release has contributed to this improvement. |
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