Set out to fish this morning at 0830.
I departed from the spot I'd been regularly fishing to try out some new water.
My first step into the river flushed out a large salmonid of one species or another. I never saw the fish but the V-wake was immense as the fish plowed through the soft water and into a nearby riffle. Likely, it was a winter-run salmon resting before navigating her next upriver migration.
I worked the seam water of a small tail out and then all potential holding water at the head of and on both sides of the island. My spoon went untouched and I saw no potential takers anywhere I fished or looked. I got down to the bottom of the island where the side channel meets back up with the main stem of the river. Perfect water... small to medium-sized gravel interspersed by larger cobbles. The island extends underwater for 75 ft. and breaks rapids from the main channel as the deeper, slower water of the side channel meets up with it to produce a long, wide seam of holding water.
I worked the close water first with a 1/4 oz spoon and made my way down to the sweet water below the island. I stepped in slowly as a steelheader should always step in to a run likely holding fish. I eased back in to the soft water of the side channel so that A) I wouldn't spook any fish in front of me and B) so that my spoon would draw along most of the seam of the main river and at the end of the swing would end up in the deep hole.
After two casts I realized that the fast water out in front of me was grabbing my spoon like a washing machine grabs a pair of panties on SPIN cycle... and was lifting it way too much in the last 1/3rd of the drift. I pulled out my 'go-to' spoon box and took out my only 2/5 oz. BC Steele in polished silver. With the consistently low flow of the river, the 1/4 oz. spoon has been working for me in most situations but here I clearly needed the extra density to get down.
I noticed that the hook on it was a barbless, Sickle Siwash (from Matsuo). This is a bit ironic to say the least because the night before I was reading hook reviews in a forum discussion on Bob's Piscatorial Pursuits and was later rehashing over the phone... the pros and cons of Matzuo, Gamakatsu and VMC siwash hooks with my buddy and fellow spoon-tossin' steelhead-junkie, Ray. I was recalling that I had lost some very nice fish with the Sickle hook... Oh well, what the hell... I threw the weightier spoon out in to the rip. Thump, wobble, clump... BAM! the spoon stops and I see a head and then a tail and a big splash. My rod loads. I set up on the fish and she clears the water dispelling my first thought that I had hooked a salmon... I've got what is easily a 12# if not better, chrome hen steelhead. I loosen my drag a tad and take a step sideways. The fish rips off 15 yards of line, breeches the surface, shakes her head and my line goes slack. I reel up and look at the hook and feel it. Damn sickle hook... and barbless... and dull!
Ironically, when I got my order of BC Steele spoons, I made up 12 all with shiny, new Gamakatsu 10009 #4 Siwash hooks and Worth or Roscoe #4 split rings. The one time I elect to use an 'old spoon' (really no such thing in any ACTIVE steelheader's boxes...) it has a worthless hook attached to it and I lose my biggest steelhead yet this fall...
With every let down there is a pick-me-up and for me it was Heck Yeah! I just hooked a beautiful steelhead in a new spot and there's bound to be another...
I spent the next hour consumed with that thought but finally decided it was time to try something different. I ditched the spoon and made up a drift leader to bounce night crawlers.
Tiny bit of lead, split shot, #8 egg hook and a lil' chunk of worm was next on the rigging menu. I got all tied and worked the setup for while and had a hit or two but no commitment. Also, the slug-like chunk of crawler and fast current I was throwing in to kept twisting my line so I cut and retied adding a barrel swivel and swapped the 'slug' for a skinny worm which I nail-pinched in half and threaded on the hook.
First cast and I felt tick, tick, tick... LOAD. Not a peck, not a slam, just a weight at the end of my rod tip and a slow, pulling head which I figured was a decent sized-rainbow. Turned out to be a 4# buck steelhead in dime-bright colors.
I landed the fish and snapped a few shots. He'd swallowed the hook so I snipped the line with my trusty, red scissors and sent the young fella on his way.
The next hour and a half yielded no hookups but I did get to see several fish (steelhead and salmon) jumping and swimming in the run. It definitely seems like more fish are showing up daily. We do need rain badly but I think the fish are looking at their fish calendars and saying, "SCREW IT! LET'S GO!!" Nature does what it must do to survive.
I was joined by another angler. He actually stopped about 150 yards above where I was fishing and then crossed the river and fished below me. Such is the courtesy so often shown during steelhead season in the LOWER stretches of the American River. It alone, is a great incentive to avoid places like Sailor Bar (when its open) and the Basin (which is always open). I made a few more casts and then decided to go home and have some lunch.
After a few chunks of smoked steelhead and a cup of coffee, I got my gear together and headed out for 'Round II'. I would be fishing a bit up river this time. Along the river, I met up with a guy totin' a 12' spey rod. He had the typical question and the typical answer of most fly guys I've met on the river... "Any grabs?" and "No, nothing..." I did tell him I'd lost a nice fish down river in the morning. We promised each other to do a rain dance and then parted paths.
I got to my destination by 1530 and figured I had a good hour and a half to hook something. Little did I know...
I was hitting the hole with fresh eyes and a 'fresh' spool of old line... As much as I hate braided line and pretty much swore off using it two years ago... I decided to give it a review and see if it felt right. I dug up a spool of 10# Power Pro.
I was hoping it would give me a better feel of the uneven river bottom and also allow me to make longer casts and drifts. It did both. I was now able to heave a 2/5 oz. spoon all the way across the river and the braid let me know by vibration when I needed to lift the spoon over a rock, tree etc... I concentrated on the middle of the rapids, a section of water about 100 yards long by 30 yards wide.
I hit the sweet spot on one cast and felt my spoon throb and then rapidly flutter to the bottom of the hole. It was crushed instantly and the fish wasted no time at all shaking violently and running out and down river. The head shakes were so fast and furious, I was sure I had a 'steelieus bruticus'. Not used to braided line, I wasn't sure how much drag I should button down on the reel. The fish checked out and was NOT going to just waltz in for a landing so I started moving down with it, keeping my rod tip up and reeling when the fish would give me a few yards. Five minutes in to the fight I knew that if I didn't start putting some heat on this fish, it was going to spool me. In fact, it damn near did spool me twice before I tightened my drag again and walked another 30 yards downstream. Every time I gained 20 yards of line, the fish would take back 40-50 and fast! I used my hand on the spool to slow it down. It may be a bad habit but it's the best way I know how to control drag without a stupid bail and some mindless washers trying to do it for me. Besides, I can change the pressure of my palm a lot more quickly and precisely than I can a turn a knob. I think my spool-palming is a carry over from my preference for using casting as opposed to spinning reels ...
It seemed like this fish was never going to tire. At some point, I had resigned to the fact that there was no way this was a steelhead. Too damn big to be one on our river and the runs were low and linear not erratic and on the surface or out of the water... Several drag zipping runs and another 50 yards wading to keep up and avoid applying too much pressure... later, I saw the fish breach the surface. Yes, definitely a salmon and I'm thinking it's GOT to be tail hooked or snagged in the ass. That would explain the long, downriver runs and what initially felt like head-shakes.
But, knowing from experience that sometimes a big, fresh buck King will act like a snagged fish AND the fact that I hooked him on a spoon and I rarely snag anything with a spoon because I drift/flutter rather than jig them... I decided to play it out.
Five more minutes of running me ragged back and forth across the river, I could feel the fish was at last beginning to tire a bit so I got downriver from the fish, laid my rod over sideways and slowly pulled back. The runs continued and were still strong but much shorter now and when the fish came to the surface again, I could see my spoon flashing as it dangled from a massive set of jaws. I finally got to the pump/reel phase and knew I wasn't going to lose my LAST silver 2/5 oz. ZOG-autograph.
20 minutes or so after the initial hookup, I landed the fish and got him to some soft water for a few photos. No, not the big steelhead I first thought I had but in some ways... this was better. This fish kicked my butt all over the place for 20 minutes. He made me walk, sweat, think, question, doubt, adjust, and fight like hell! and in the end he rewarded me with some quality photos and a killer memory.
This fish represented a lot to me beyond just a big fish that I caught. This was a mighty Chinook... the untamed KING! An individual driven by instinct, by desire, and by his will to survive against all odds.
We all know the plight of the Pacific salmon... Their numbers have decreased exponentially in a matter of a few years. It would be a tremendous loss to the planet and all of earth's inhabitants, sentient and otherwise, if the salmon should perish from their natal waters. I contemplated these things as I revived the creature and as I began to release him, I wanted to grab my camera and take a photo of him swimming away but it was in my backpack, 15 yards out of reach.
Once the buck started fluttering his pectoral and pelvic fins, swishing his tail and snapping his jaws, I let go and made a mad dash for the camera. Two seconds later with aperture open and shutter ready to fire... I returned to the cobbles where a mighty beast had regained his strength and stature... and had faded away into the great mystery~
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