HP Crayfish

This pattern has accounted for the majority of Steelhead that I have caught since I started swinging flies for Salmon River, NY Steelhead.  I'm not sure how often the Steelhead see crayfish out in the lake or if they remember the crayfish trying to kill them when they were young, but I do know that they like to grab these under various conditions.

I like to fish other flies as well, but like you, I have some I keep coming back to year after year.  This is one of them and I have been told that they work well in Maine for Smallmouth and have accounted for some above average Brown Trout in Montana.

I fish this like most of my swinging flies......down and across.......and HANG ON!!

There is some more to it than that, but I bet this fly will put you in a good mood too.

Recipe

Tube: 1 1/4" long tube - diameter of 1/8" or smaller
Hook: Blackbird Sabretooth - size 4
Thread: 8/0 black
Antennae: GP tail fibers and Peacock Sword fibers
Ribbing: Small gold or copper wire
First body: Brown dubbing
Antennae/Feelers: Whiting Bird Fur - Coachman Brown
Claws: Hen Pheasant feathers
Mid-body joint: Peacock sword or Peacock herl
Hackle: Hen Pheasant marabou
Ribbing: Small Gold or Copper wire
Second Body: Tan Dubbing
Carapace: 2 Hen Pheasant feathers

(Recently I have been adding a small conehead to the front of the tube and also using orange colored junction tubing in the rear.)

Step 1: Attach the thread to the tube, wrap back to the junction tubing and apply some super glue to the thread wraps.

Step 2: Strip off about 5-8 fibers from a Golden Pheasant tail. Tie them on top of the tube right at the junction tubing.

Step 3: Strip of about 4-6 fibers from a Peacock Sword and tie them on top of the GP tail fibers.

Step 4: Snip of a 3"-4" piece of small gold wire and attach it to the far side of the tube.

Step 5: Spin some brown dubbing onto your thread and wrap the first body. Stop just shy of the midpoint.

Step 6: Rib the body with the small gold wire. Tie off and trim excess.

Step 7: Pick out 2 small to medium sized feathers from a Whiting Bird Fur neck. Don't strip off any fibers and tie them onto the sides of the tube. The fluffier filoplume should extend to the tip of the Pea**** Sword but not any further.

Step 8: Select two, nicely mottled, Hen Pheasant feathers and tie them onto the sides of the tube right where the bird fur is tied. These will be the claws and they should extend just past the Pea**** Sword fibers. Tie everything on good and tight, then trim the excess.

Step 9: Select a few fibers from a Pea**** Sword or use a few Pea**** herls instead. Tie them in at the mid-body point and wrap them to make a small joint between body sections. Tie off and trim excess.

Step 10: Select a fluffy marabou like feather from a Hen Pheasant. The stem should be long enough to make 3-4 turns. Strip off the fibers on the lower half and tie the feather in by the butt.


Step 11: Snip of a 3"-4" piece of small gold wire and attach it to the far side of the hook shank.

Step 12: Spin some tan dubbing onto your thread and wrap the second body.

Step 13: Rib the second body with 3-4 turns of gold wire. Tie off and trim excess.

Step 14: Wrap the Hen Pheasant marabou feather forward, keeping each turn on the rear edge of the wire. Tie off and trim excess.

Step 15: Trim off the hackles on top of the tube where the carapace will be located.

Step 16: Select 2 Hen pheasant feathers for the carapace. One should be lightly colored and mottled, the other should be dark and mottled. Strip off the fibers from the base of the stem so the lightly colored feather extends to the base of the antennae. The darker feather should be slightly shorter.

Step 17: Hold the feathers one on top of the other and tie them in at the same time, on top of the hook shank. Trim off excess and finish the head.

Side View

Top View

11/27/10 Tough Weather & Good Fishing

Saturday morning Eric and I got up early while my dad slept in and stayed warm. We bundled up, loaded the truck and headed to the UFZ since Eric was only up until Sunday afternoon. Upon arriving at the Paradise pool, I hear someone calling me and recognize a three friends from home. We bs for a bit and I ask them if I can hop in below them, as Eric went down to the next pool downstream.

Boy was it raw out with some nice wind gusts and an occasional snow squall for the first hour or two. Since I had permission, I started to swing the tailout of Paradise with the same setup and fly from yesterday, except a fresh knot at the hook. For some reason I wasn't feeling the purple Mahogan and decided to switch to an Irish Crayfish in black.


One of the guys above me hooked one on a small nymph and I helped him land it and we took a nice group photo. About a half hour after I resumked fishing I looked downstream to see how Eric was doing and I see him backing up with a nice bend in his rod. I keep watching intently from afar as he plays the steelhead out and begins to land it when the hook comes undone and off she goes.

That got me warmed up a tad so I battened down the hatches a little more and focused on my casting due to the wind. I felt a few small tugs and dropped the loop but nothing was on the end. No matter, my confidence was high and after a few more casts I got a heavier tug. The line was almost straight below me when I felt some weight so I dropped the loop, the line came tight, and I set the hook. A nice, fairly colored up fish comes rolling up on top and heads out to deeper water.

It felt so nice to have a fish on for a little while, since I was practically skunked during the last tip in October. "Keep the line tight and a good bend in the rod and everything will work out," I kept telling myself. A few more small runs, some splashing and headshaking then into shore he came. WOOHOO!! What a great start to the day.


Well that warmed me up a bit, so I changed my tippet like I do after landing any size steelhead, and put the same fly back on for some more action. I fished another 1/2 hour or so then headed down to where Eric was to see how he was doing and see what happened on that first fish. We chatted as Eric kept fishing, then I see his indicator stop, he sets the hook and a nice steelhead comes up headshaking that tears off into the heavy flow and breaks off.

Eric had been doing good on a chartreuse glo-bug and said that first steelhead made his indicator jump uspstream at least a foot. He said the hook popped on the first one and lost another one that was touch and go.

As Eric was re-tying his tippet he asked if I wanted to swing a fly through the area so I said "Heck yeah!!" I decide to start slightly higher in the run to get a better swing. Nothing at first so I start moving downstream to get out of Eric's way since he was about ready to begin fishing again. I get below his spot and the river widens a tad and makes a nice little tailout with some structure.

I make a cast to swing the crayfish in front of a seam created by a large rock, and the line goes flying out of my hand and this steelhead heads downstream cartwheeling, jumping, and thrashing all over the place. I don't know how the barbless hook stayed in but it did thankfully. The steelhead calmed down a bit and I was able to recover the lost line and get him out of the current so I would hopefully have some advantage. Things worked out and I was able to get my hands on him for a quick picture. YEAH BABY!! Two nice steelhead on the swing and it isn't even lunch time yet!!


I put a new piece of tippet on and tied the same crayfish back on the business end as Eric got back to his spot and began fishing again. About 10 casts later I hook up on a small but very fat steelhead that had a lot of gusto. He came in flopping all over the place so we took a quick picture and I let him go to get back to egg munching.


That was it for the morning session. The snow was coming down heavy and the wind was blowing hard, so Eric and I decided to head back to the truck. It was a little sketchy at first with the white out conditions, but it lightened as we neared Pulaski.


We grabbed some lunch, went back to the room and warmed up for the afternoon. It was also time for my dad to get out on the water since the snow headed north to Tug Hill.

After lunch we headed back to the UFZ, but there were too many cars to make the walk to the river worthwhile. We turned around and headed to the mid-river area to find some room for everyone to fish pleasantly.

We hiked downstream to a favorite run and found out it was a little crowded, but there was room for Eric and a spot further downstream that my dad and I could share. I hopped in first, fished in close, then kept working line out until it was time to take a step downstream and cover more water. I had the same black Irish Crayfish tied on since it worked earlier. Who knows...maybe a forth tug?

The wind was still a challenge to cast against, but every so often the sun would poke through the clouds and the wind would calm down. Then it would gust so hard it was easier to wait to cast then try to cast. I repeated the cast and step process and managed to keep the hook from hitting from me in some un-reachable location.

During one of the swings, not long after the fly hit the water, I felt a weight on the end of the line so I dropped the loop. As the line was going out I set the hook to soon instead of waiting for it to come tight. I felt to heavy head shakes when the rod bucked, then there was nothing there. Darn!! Oh well at least I had a 4th tug in one day!! Same fly too.....guess I should tie a few more!!

I kept working downstream and my father hopped in above me and started working some line out. He settled into a nice rhythm, which was then abruptly interrupted when he got near the same area I had just had a tug. I hear him say "YEAH!" and when I look upstream I see his rod bent over, hear his reel sing, then I see a nice steelhead jumping down the river causing a ruckus.


This steelhead did not want to come in, even when my dad got him out the current. He kept on thrashing and rolling, making short little runs. He finally got tuckered out and dad led him over to me. I landed him in the shallows and noticed a an Orange Heron right in the corner of the jaw. Sweet!! I gave dad a fist bump and then took a few quick pictures before the steelhead bolted off.


We all fished until evening, but that was the only fish in the afternoon. It was getting quite cold so we all decided to head back to Whitakers and I made some Jambalaya for dinner. MMMMMMM!!

11/26/2010 First Afternoon

The morning came around the day after turkey day and boy was I still stuffed from the good eats. With lots of leftovers in the cooler, I packed up my remaining things and headed to my fathers house. I met my buddy Eric there and we all hit the road with thoughts of hard pulling, high jumping steelhead in our minds.

After a quick stop for breakfast we hopped on the PA turnpike, headed north to 81, and on to Pulaski, NY. The trip went smooth and we saw a handful of deer and a few turkeys as well.

We pulled into Whitakers around 12:30, checked in and Eric picked up his license since he hadn't been to the river since last year. To the room we went, hastily un-loaded all of our gear, then off to get a sub for lunch before we hit the river.

After getting rigged up we decided to head to 2A bridge to get into the swing of things and start a nice rhythm. I started at the tail of the Compactor with a 6.5 ips polyleader, 12lb tippet and a size 1 purple Mahogan. Eric and my Dad started up higher in the run as I stepped off the tailout and headed downstream to the old trestle.

It was nice to be out in the cold fresh air even though we all got skunked. But that's ok, tomorrow was another day and some snow was in the forecast.

11/30/08 Crawfish on the Menu

It seemed like there were some fish to play with around 2A bridge area so we all agreed to head back there again for the morning. Dad and I both stayed on the north side of the river, except he headed to the tailout of the Compactor hole and I started just above the old abutment.

I could see Joe and Dave under the bridge and just below the bridge, but I didn’t see them hook anything. About an hour had passed and Dad came walking down the trail and said he was going across the bridge to fish the south side and work his way down to the island where Joe and Dave were now fishing. I told him I got one brownie about 15”-16” long just after stepping into the water. She was laying in the slack water right at the abutment and took the crayfish tube fly. It was a very cold morning and the guides were icing up so I took a short walk to fish below the 2A Bridge. That “funnel” was calling me.

I got below the bridge, cracked the ice out of the guides, checked my knots and tippet, and gave the hook a touch up with a honing stone…..sticky sharp and ready to go to work. Slowly stepped off the shore and worked the close water with a few short casts. No taker so I stepped out a little further into the river to get a little room between myself and a few branches. Continued working the line out until I had about 50ft of line to swing with….and then step, cast, swing, and repeat. As I started getting closer to the “funnel” I felt very positive that something was going to happen even though it was a cold morning.

“Drop the loop, idiot, drop the loop, it’s going to happen,” I kept telling myself. Sometimes it happens, most times it doesn’t, but it’s good to trust your instincts/feelings and be ready. I finally got down to the “funnel,” made a decent cast and adjusted it with a small mend and kept at the ready. Right when the crayfish tube fly got into the sweet spot, the loop was ripped out of my hands. I felt two or three heavy head shakes, and a solid steelhead buck goes airborne like a mini dolphin. Line is flying off the reel like crazy as I’m holding my ground and I’m down to my backing in a heartbeat. The buck gets to the tailout, stops, turns around and I start working him back upstream. He rose to the top, boiled and thrashed around on the surface a few times, then he started coming closer.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ he tears off on another run and is heading straight for the narrow channel on the south side of the island below. He turns around thrashes and rolls some more and I work him back over to my side of the river. As soon as he feels the stones on his belly he tears off on another run across stream……keep wearing yourself out big boy. I work him back to my side again and he holds in front of me, shakes his head a few times, tries to run but he is exhausted. I lead him over to shore and see the crayfish tube fly lodged solidly in the corner of his jaw. Took a few quick pics, popped the hook out, revived him for a little while and he took off with a few quick thrusts of his tail. I should have taped his length and girth, the girth especially. Judging by my rod he was around 26” inches long and a very deep bodied buck that I guessed around 9lbs – 10lbs.



Dad, Joe, and Dave were heading back upstream from down below just as I released him so I waved to them and motioned that I was ready for lunch. They were ready too, so we all went back at the room to warm up, have lunch, and see what NFL matchups were in store for the afternoon.

After lunch, Dave and Joe decided to head up to the Upper Fly Zone to see if there was room to fish. I talked my dad into heading up to Pineville so I could show him some other good spey water. There were a few anglers around the bridge on the north side where I had good luck during the last trip. He made a few casts, but didn’t like where he was and he reeled in and headed off downstream in search of fresh water. He was also trying the same polyleader I had been using and wanted a little more room to cast and get used to the extra weight on the end of the fly line.

I went across the bridge to fish above it on the south side of the river since there wasn’t anybody over there. I worked my way down to the bridge and below it a short ways, but got low holed by a two different groups of people. I didn’t mind too much since Mother Nature was pelting us with a mix of snow, sleet, and freezing rain. It gave me an excuse to cross back over the bridge and fish the North side for an hour before heading back to the truck.

As I was fishing a gentleman came up the trail from down below and asked me if that was my Dad down below. I said, “Yes, that’s my pop.” He said,” Your dad is pretty happy he just got his first steelhead on the spey rod.” “Awesome,” I replied, “that will make his week!” I fished for another half hour or so and headed down the trail to find my Dad.

It was snowing pretty steady by this time, but he was all smiles inside his comfy balaclava, and gave me the thumbs up. I asked him the usual questions; how big was it? Male or Female? What fly? Where were you fishing? Where did it take? Did it yank the hell out of it or suck it in?

He said there were a few other guys around so he asked if he could hop in just above them and they obliged. After a short while a few of them left and it was just him and one other gentleman that was downstream of us. Dad said it was a female and she took the Purple Mahogan I had given him before the trip. He showed me where he was fishing and said his cast wasn’t too far out. The fly drifted a little ways and just started to swing when he felt a take so he dropped the loop, set the hook and the fight was on. He said it didn’t run too far and stayed in front of him while he fought it to shore. Way to go Pop!! Feels darn good on the long rod doesn’t it? “Hell yeah,” he said and we hit the trail and headed back to the truck.

When we got back to the room Joe and Dave said the UFZ was too crowded so they went to the Lower Fly Zone where they found a good amount of river to fish. They both had gotten into a few fish and each landed some steel. They were happy campers and new where they were going tomorrow morning. This time they were going to take a net!!

12/2/08 Cold Day

Since Joe and Dave were heading back up to the UFZ, Dad and I went back to the 2A Bridge area. Man it was cold!! I could see icicles on the branches of shrub brush that were near the river. The wind was blowing straight upstream which made casting a little more difficult on the north side of the river.

I started at the abutment on the north side and Dad headed up to the tailout of the Compactor Hole. Did I mention it was cold? I began fishing down through the run and there were two guys on the other side that were staying in the room next to us. I was keeping an eye on them and they were keeping an eye on me. It was like we were all hoping for one of us to hook something just to pick our spirits up a little.

I slowly worked my way downstream covering the water the best I could with sloppy, off shoulder casts, that the wind would grab and send flying upstream. Mending was a bit of a chore to straighten the line out, but the wind helped, sometimes too much. My guides were icing up a little so I would crack it off or dip the tip of the rod into the water to clean them out.

I was just above the abutment during one of the casts. I mended the line and let it swing all the way to shore and the fly was dangling below me. I was kind of in a trance because there was a small flock of male and female Cardinals that would come a few feet away from me and land on the vines attached to the old abutment. They were chirping away and I was trying to mimic them with short, quick whistles. One of the females came a little closer and it was like we were having a little conversation. The other Cardinals seemed rather relaxed as well and I forgot about the cold.

The line was still dangling below me and I had on a tube fly crayfish which must have been bobbing sided to side in the current. The Cardinals spooked and flew to the abutment over on the South side. I watched fly across the river and bump, bump……..whoa!! That’s a take!! Dropped the loop and set the hook and a small 15” Brownie came up to the surface. I brought him into shore as quick as I could, popped the hook out and set him free.

After that I kept working downstream and as I got below the abutment my Dad showed up and wasn’t sure where to go next. I told him to go below 2A Bridge and fish where I hooked that steely the other day. He said, “I thought you were going to head down there and fish?” I said, “I was, but I want to finish this run. Go down there and fish, there is one waiting there for you.” He smiled and made his way down below the bridge.

I kept fishing the run and watched my Dad as he waded into the water and began to fish. Maybe 10 minutes had passed and I was just finishing up the run when I look downstream and see my Dad hooked up to something. I was hoping it was a steelhead so I reeled in, got to shore, and literally ran across the parking area and crossed the road to get over to him. I was a little winded, but definitely a lot warmer and he landed a nice Brownie right as I arrived.



I whipped out my camera, wiped off the foggy lense, and took a few quick pics of the biggest brownie he ever landed. Not huge for Salmon River standards, but alot bigger than anything we fish for at home. I gave him my towel to dry off his hands and asked him what fly it took. He smiled and said, “The Swarn-a-Bugger!!” He also said it wasn’t a hard take, the line just got heavy and came tight in the slack water below the abutment.

He kept fishing below 2A Bridge and I decided to cross the bridge and fish above the abutment on the South side of the river. I hiked to where I wanted to start, which was the bottom tip of the island and began to strip out some line. I decided to change flies and put on a Brown Mahogan. I thought it might track a little deeper in the flow and I could slow it down a tad as well.

I began working my way downstream when I had a comfortable amount of line out. As I worked towards the abutment in the river, I started to angle towards shore so as not to spook anything in the soft water. The fly was swinging a little slow so I had to lead the line with my rod tip to keep it swinging at a nice even speed. My fly was about 6ft above the abutment and swinging towards shore when I felt a pull, but I set the hook instead of dropping the loop. DOH!! No fish on the other end.

I made a few more swings through the same area just in case the same fish came back or maybe another would move for it, but it didn’t happen. I kept working downstream and started making longer casts when I passed the downstream edge of the abutment. It was tough to get a nice swing since there was so much line beyond the abutment and the seam below it would put a wicked “S” curve in the line. To overcome this the cast had to be on more of a downstream angle and I took a few steps forward to better my position.

The fly was swinging much better and I could control it easier as well. I kept telling myself to drop the loop, drop the loop, drop the loop, etc….. I took a few more casts downstream to cover the rest of the tailout on the next to last cast, the line just stopped solid. The loop was dropped and I set the hook after the line came tight. Nothing happened at first, then I felt a big weight throb twice as it slowly started moving towards the center of the river and the hook came free. Hmm, I wonder what the heck that was?

I made a few more casts then went below the 2A Bridge to make a few casts before we went back to the room for an early lunch. I pulled out some line and made a few casts, then I was low holed so I reeled in and headed across the bridge to the parking lot.

When lunch was over Dad and I went back to Pineville to try our luck again since the past few days either he or I hooked a fish the last two times we were there. We fished hard all afternoon and went through the run a couple of times. We changed flies, tried slowing the fly, speeding it up, casting across stream, casting upstream, but it wasn’t to be.

We decided to head in a little early since it was pretty raw and we were both tired from trying to keep warm all day. Boy the Balvenie Scotch and cheese tasted good when we got back.

When Joe and Dave got back to the room they said it was a slow day for them as well and didn’t see many hookups in the LFZ. Hopefully this was the slow day of the week.

12/3/08 Read the Water and Look

Dad and I went to Pineville to fish and Joe and Dave went back to the LFZ for more action. When we pulled into the Pineville parking lot there was a decent amount of trucks in the lot, but it looked there was some room to move around.

We got all of our gear on, and decided to head downstream to the area where my Dad hooked his first Steelhead on a spey rod. A gentleman was walking out and said he didn’t touch anything and there was a drift boat working downstream. We had enough room to hop in above the driftboat so we both picked a spot and started fishing. I followed Dad down through the run as he slowly stepped it off. He was using a Purple Mahogan and I was using an Olive Mahogan tied on a cotter pin.

Nothing was happening so Dad took a break to take a leak and I kept working down through the run rather quickly. I was working the water the best I could and even made a few extra long casts for the hell of it. I was going to keep going downstream, but a guy hopped in below me about 30 yards away. I kept fishing, hoping he would start to move downstream, but he must have had concrete in his boots. I decided it wasn’t meant to be so I reeled in, headed upstream and told my Dad I was going up above the bridge to find some room. Meet at the truck around 11:45-12:00.

I walked up to the bridge and there were people on both sides of the river, but there was room to hop in at the boat ramp and work downstream…..at least I thought there was. I made about 5 short casts and got low holed again. Son of a…….man I can’t get a break this morning, but damn it’s nice today. Time to make something happen I thought. So I did & made a move.

I only had a little over an hour to find a spot and fish. I briskly walked upstream past the island at Pineville to head to an area I fished a few years ago. I got to the woods where the trail was and there weren’t any fresh footprints in the old snow. Sweet, I might have some fresh water to fish. Kept following the trail upstream and there wasn’t another angler or driftboat in sight. Awesome!! I walked a little faster to get to the head of the run. Found a spot to hop in, looked at my watch, 45 minutes left to fish before lunch. There was just enough time to cover the whole run, even though it would be stepped off quick.

I took off the Olive Mahogan cotter pin and put the tube fly crayfish on the end of my line. Work your magic again baby!! Covered the water in close then started letting her fly. The current was a great speed and I barely had to mend. The tip of the rod was all that was needed to steer the swing and control the speed. Worked down the top half of the run and had to hop out to get around a few trees that made casting impossible. I hopped back in the river when I had enough room cast and starting working down the run again. It worked out good because a driftboat was starting to come downstream and they could fish where I was just fishing.

I looked at my watch and there was about 15-20 minutes before I had to start heading back to the truck. “It’s now or never,” I told myself. The sun was out and it felt great. About that time another bank angler had arrived on the far side and began fishing across from me. He must have received a phone call because he stopped fishing and I could hear him talking.

Just downstream from me there was a nice sized boulder that created a great seam below it and into the tailout. I worked a few casts all around the boulder and let the line swing into the seam below. Stripped out some more line and began angling casts downstream so the slow water in the seam wouldn’t mess with how the line was swinging. I stepped downstream, made another cast and was stepping downstream as the fly swung because I only had so much time to cover the run. Made another cast and mid swing as I was starting to make a step…YANK, YANK, BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!! A hot silver fish starts screaming down and across stream, rolling and thrashing the whole way as my line gets down into the backing. Come on baby!! Stay on!! I kept the pressure on and the steely turned and came running back into the run. I was reeling like crazy, trying to keep the line from binding up. The steelhead got close and I could see it was a nice size female. She felt the stones on her belly and took off on another short run out into the seam I had been fishing. Worked her back in close to shore where she sulked for a little while before succumbing to the pressure of the long rod. Led her close to shore and corralled her in the shallow water. Sweet!!

I grabbed a hold of her tail and looked at her other side because I though I had noticed a sore. On her belly near her pectoral fins there was a sore which had a hook still in it from when she was foul hooked. I removed it, took a few pictures, got my hook out and revived her. She took off rather quickly and I was nice and warm. Splashed some water into the stream and said thank you. She had nice big fins with perfect rays that weren’t bent at all. Checked my watch…..11:45. Perfect.



Broke my rod down and headed down the trail with a big smile on my face.
Dad stayed where we had started in the morning and worked through the run a few times without any luck. He talked with the other guy that was there when I left, but he didn’t have any luck either. Time for lunch and time to put on a new piece of tippet.

Joe and Dave never made it back for lunch, so after eating Dad and I went back to Pineville. I convinced Dad to head upstream with me because the water was better, good room to cast and there wasn’t going to be anybody up there.

We headed up the trail and my tracks were the only ones present….nice!! I showed Dad where to start and where I hooked the fish before lunch. He hopped in and I went above him so he could fish through the water first. He started out alright, but the nearby shrubbery kept reaching out and grabbing his D-loop. I think he got a little frustrated because after about 10 minutes he reeled in went downstream below the obstacles.

I kept working downstream and was swinging the tube fly crayfish into the water where my Dad was fishing. On two back to back casts, the fly swung into the slower water and felt very light tugs at the end of the line. The first time I set the hook….nothing. The second time I dropped the loop and waited to feel the weight….nothing. Made a few more casts with no takers so I hopped out of the run to get down towards my Dad.

He had hopped out when I did so we chatted a little about casting, flies, where to cast etc. He wanted to take a break and have some crackers so he told me to get back in the river so he could watch. I kept stepping down the run and then he hopped back in and started following me down the run.

I got close to the tailout and asked him if he was casting all of the fly line down to the running line. He said, “No, but I can cast it if I want.” So I replied, “Then do it!!” He stripped the rest of the line out and started firing it out there. I kept heading downstream while fishing so I could get to the next run.
About 20 minutes had passed and I was about 50-60 yards downstream of him when I heard a whistle. I look upstream and saw his rod was bent and throbbing with a fish splashing out in the middle of the river…..yeah baby!! I reeled in my line and started walking back upstream to give him a hand landing it. About halfway to him he gave me wave to stay where I was and the fish came unhooked.

That was it for the afternoon. I kept working downstream with no pulls and Dad didn’t have any more hookups either. When we met up he said that Steelhead he had hooked, yanked the heck out of it on the initial take, came up and rolled around and the line got wrapped around its tail. That’s why he had waved to me and the fish just happened to come free at the same time. He was still pretty excited though!!

12/4/08 Raw but Great

We had been fishing different areas and the weather was supposed to be a wintery mix on the raw side so all of us headed to the 2A Bridge in the morning. It was close by and if it was slow we could head back for an early lunch then fish hard during the afternoon.

Dave and Joe stayed near the bridge on the South side of the river, and my Dad walked just above the old abutment on that same side so he could fish from the tip of the island downstream. I stayed on the North side, started above the abutment and began working my way down the river with the same tube fly crayfish that had brought me luck all week.

Even though the guides weren’t icing up, it felt like the coldest day of the trip because the wind combined with the on and off spattering of rain made it raw outside. Things started off a little tough trying to do an offhand spey cast into the wind, so I stuck with a short amount of line which could be fished effectively.

I kept looking back upstream towards my Dad and downstream towards Joe and Dave to see if any of them had hooked up, but no such luck. I fished through the run where I was located and stopped shy of the tailout since the wind and the tree branches had my number. No takes but I was happy to get out of the water and walk downstream to fish below the 2A Bridge. It wasn’t a long walk but it did help get the blood moving, plus nothing like the excitement of fishing water that no one has fished yet.

I started off with short casts and began to work out more line after each swing like I usually do. My line was out beyond the heavy riffles in front of me and the rest was out in the slow moving seam below the bridge abutment. Just as the line would start to form a belly I would through in a big mend and made sure it moved the fly a couple of inches. This happened about three to four times each casts and sometimes after the mend settled I would make two or three short strips of line to keep the crayfish “alive.”

Things were little slow for everybody and Joe shouted over to me, “Stir them up Chipper!!” So I shouted back, “Alright, I’ll do my best!!” On the next cast, when I started getting closer to the “funnel,” I felt a bump out in the slack water after the initial mend. I let the loop go but there wasn’t anything on the other end of the line. I made the same cast and mend, but tried to keep the line slightly tighter. I felt a bump, held onto the line for some reason, felt another bump and set the hook as I released the loop. Fish on and I hollered over to Joe, “You told me to stir them up, so here you go!!” He laughed and I fought the small brownie over to shore and released her.

I went back to where I first hopped in and started to work the run again with the same tube fly. I stepped down river a little quicker to get closer to the “funnel.” “There has to be steelhead down there,” I told myself. Right in the same spot where I hooked the female brown, the line got slightly heavy so I set the hook and felt some good head shakes. Sweet!! This time it was a male brownie slightly bigger than the female I had caught about 10 minutes ago.

After releasing him I changed my tippet to be safe and put the same crayfish tube fly on the end of the line. There was about a half hour before lunch so I figured I would stick with the same fly…..its working might as well stick with it.

Again I hopped in where I started and began stepping down the run. This time there wasn’t any bumps, but I made a few extra casts to make sure. Nothing happened so I took a few more steps downstream to swing the fly through the sweet spot. Second cast and swing through the “funnel,” the line got ripped out of my hands just as the crayfish started to swing. Set the hook to the side and up comes flying a decent sized steelhead and I shouted over to Joe, “There’s a steelhead baby!!” BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ he ran me all the way down to my backing and turned around at the tailout so I worked him back upstream. He rolled and thrashed his head a few times, but he was tired so it was easy to lead him to shore.



When I landed him I noticed a pretty nasty lamprey wound on his side, but other than that he was one of the brighter fish I had landed all week. I took a few quick pictures, revived him, and he splashed away in to the depths of the river. It was close enough to lunch time so I decided to get my Dad’s attention so we could meet back at the truck. It’s always nice to end on a good note.

When we finished lunch and had all of our clothes dried a little, Dad and I decided to head back to Pineville. Joe and Dave headed back up to the LFZ to see if they would have the same action they had the other day.

There were a few trucks in the lot at Pineville but it wasn’t crowded at all. We decided to head upriver above the island which was a good thing because there weren’t any tracks in the fresh snow. Cool!! The only people that fished where we were going were those in drift boats.

There was a driftboat with a few anglers working part of the run, but there was enough room for my Dad to fish the tailout, and I had room at the top of the run. I wasn’t expecting too much to happen since it remained pretty raw outside, but you never know when it comes to Steelhead fishing. I worked the fast water at the head of the run to give the guys in the driftboat ample room and as they moved down, so did I. Nothing happened for a little while, but as the driftboat got into the tailout below my dad, one of the guys hooked up and I saw a pretty big steelhead jump out of the water. I watched them fight it and after a couple of minutes they had it in the net and in the boat. They pulled anchor and headed to the ramp and the run was ours for the next hour and a half.

I kept working downstream and as I got to the slower water, where I had a few taps yesterday, I felt a soft tug. I let the loop go and when the line came tight there wasn’t any weight on the end. Oh well, but it did get me excited and made me focus a little more on what I was doing. I made two more casts after stepping downstream and the same thing happened….what’s going on? Maybe its little fish nipping at it…..I don’t know. I made another cast after stepping down, the line had good tension, and the fly was swinging nicely. During the last quarter of the swing, I felt the same thing and let the loop go. I felt the weight at the end of the line, set the hook and the fish was on, or so I thought. I saw the head of a Steelhead come up to the surface, shake its head, turn to head into the middle of the stream and the hook came free. Damn!! I didn’t set the hook hard enough, but maybe the hook was dull. Pulled in my line and sure enough, the hook was a little on the dull side. “You dummy,” I said to myself, “You should have changed the hook at lunch.”

I cut that hook off, tied on a new “sticky” sharp hook, and hoped I might be blessed with another tug. I took a couple of steps upstream to swing through that water again. I had another very light tug, but nothing was on the other end.

While I was fishing, I was watching my Dad the whole time. We were both cussing the wind a little, since it made spey casting off the opposite shoulder quite tough. We both did our best and layed out a few nice casts. Nothing happened the rest of the afternoon so when another drift boat came through we made a few casts then decided to head back to the room and take a nice, hot shower before dinner.

What a great day even though the conditions were tough. 2 Brownies and 1 Steelhead landed, 1 steelhead lost, and missed 3 other takes. Who says fish won’t move for a fly in 34 degree water.