Driftwood, the low-sided, wood drift boat isn’t the best tool for the ‘bigger' water up on the Deschutes, but we made do. Sneaking dry lines wherever we could, doing our best to keep her afloat. Fishing was slow over the 8 days we had on the river. My dad was lucky to get a trophy, native buck, fresh with his fall coat, early in the trip. At 32 inches it was about as big of a steelhead as a you can expect from the Deschutes. Another decent one and a couple of bumps here and there kept him happy. I managed to break off on two fish – one that was a beast & on a screaming Hardy reel – and wasn’t able to convert a handful of bumps into fish to hand. Day four rolled into day five, rolled into day six, and I was feeling the punishment of what I call slow-reward fishing. Steelheading is a fickle bitch in that there are maybe a small number of them in the river, and as it turns out they aren’t even here to eat. If you are lucky enough to put your fly in front of a grabby fish, you aren’t even suppose to set the hook – which is an incredibly difficult reaction to temper for a trout fisherman – just let them take and run. And if you do get one of these magnificent, ocean-running fish on the line, hold on & enjoy the tug for what could be your only fish for the next thousand casts. With several opportunities lost I was at an all time chrome-low, and on day 6, on my last cast in the promising signal light run, 16 strips off my reel and tits deep on my tippy toes, I hooked into a hot little chromer. She was a hatchery hen and as steelhead go, not that impressive in size, but I worked so hard for that fish that she will no doubt be remembered as I continue my humble, two-hand chrome education.
On our final two days the weather turned a bit, and the crowds diminished. We welcomed a mild cold front with cloudy skies and the slump turned around a bit. I hooked into the hottest fish I’ve ever stuck, but it was short lived – an epic run & a giant jump before he snapped me off. Got into another one but he spit the hook on his tenth time in flight. Dad ended up hooking and lading another 30”+ native. The front was followed by a significant wind event and that was the end of our game.
When you walk away from an 8 day trip with just 4 fish in and 4 lost, it makes you wonder: is it all really worth it? And in reflection on the past few days, there is no doubt that this trip, like the many others before it, and hopefully many to come are nothing short of fantastic. I’m not going to concede that it’s not about the fish – but big fish or little fish, it’s hard to beat a week, slowly drifting down a river, with your dog and your dad. After all, how many 33 year olds get to regularly have that sort of time with their fathers. This week as with many, I am a lucky man indeed.
Putting on under the moonlight on the Deschutes |
Low light rowing to our first spot |
Good water, fishing the shade with the sun up on the rim |
Dad getting plenty of opportunities to work on the cast |
The 'ol man hooked up |
After a solid few runs and a good fight we're getting our first fish close |
Beautiful native buck |
A great fish gets a good drink |
Swing essential |
Got to love a two handed trip |
Nice trout, but not what we're hunting for |
Rod rack at our digs, The Oasis |
Miles and miles of bumpy dirt on this trip |
Dad picking his way out to some good water |
The enemy all over the banks |
Ivy & rattlesnakes kept this sad dog in the boat most of the time |
Dad throwing some loops |
Definitely not from around these parts, but driftwood feels pretty comfortable on the Deschutes |
Pick your line – hopefully it's a dry one |
Lucky dog finally gets out of the boat just to watch some paint dry |
Had a pretty windy day so after good morning light we went and visited friends in Hood River – along with coveted huck-shakes at Mikes Ice Cream |
Ellie enjoying some long distance swimming exercise in the mighty Columbia |
Hood River is kite mecca |
Big sticks ready to roll in the AM |
Dad navigating slick boulders on the Deschutes |
Me and dad after swinging a run – all smiles even with no grabs |
Another beautiful day – but maybe just a little too blue |
Getting out of the boat for a little run around |
Not quite what we're looking for on this trip |
After thousands of casts, I'm finally hooked up in signal light |
Not a big one, but worth every cast |
Good light with the change in weather |
Two hander hooked up on a solid fish before I let him spit the hook |
A great place to visit in the fall |
After getting blown off the river, we headed back to town in the daylight for the first time over our eight days |