Doug Rose Flyfishing

The rivers out here are finally in good shape, but I would be very careful if you are planning on driving this way New Years Eve or tommorow. Highway 101 from Amanda Park to Queets is packed snow and ice and very slippery. It is also icy along stretches of the lower Hoh. I don’t know how it is between P.A. and Forks, but there was still snow between Shuwah and the west end of Lake Crescent on Friday, and I don’t imagine it is particularly good today. The roads seem pretty good around Forks, but the sidewalks are very icy, so I imagine the A-Road, La Push Road, and other secondary roads have nasty patches. Be careful.

On a more entertaining note, Ellie and I saw a big black bear walk across the road near out house this morning. That’s the fifth bear I’ve seen since we moved to Queets, and the seventh I’ve seen this year. I haven’t seen that many total over the last 15 years. 

                                    Steelhead–Steelhead-Steelhead

I am focusing all my guiding during Janauary and February on steelhead on West End rivers. All my trips are walk-and-wade, although the spots we fish are seldom more than a half mile from the road. I concentrate on the Sol Duc, Calawah, Bogachiel and Hoh rivers. We typically fish several rivers each day and employ a variety of lines, fly types and presentations. Cost for one or two anglers is $350. Lunch included.  

Bill McMillan occupies a singular position in Pacific Northwest fly fishing. There are plenty of celebrated fly fishers in our region–not a few who seemingly view being a “celebrated fly fisherman” as their life’s work. But Bill is the only angler I know who is a great and innovative steelhead fly fisherman, who has created flies that have become part of the fabric of Northwest steelheading, who has written a classic fly fishing book, and who is also  one of the sport’s most passionate and articulate advocates for wild fish.

 A legendary steelhead fly fisher, who honed his skills on the lower Columbia River tributaries, Bill nearly single-handedly revived dry line steelhead techniques for summer fish during the 1970s and early 1980s. His 1985 volume, Dry Line Steelhead, introduced a new generation of fly fishers to techniques such as waking, skating, the greased line, and the riffled-hitch. It also provided descriptions of his signature fly patterns, the Winter’s Hope, Paintbrush and Steelhead Caddis. (more…)

If you took a poll to identify the simplest method of presenting a fly to a fish, I’m sure the downstream wet fly swing would win in a walk. Everyone knows the basic drill: Cast down and across stream, then let the current carry the line downstream until it begins to hang.

In practice, swinging flies is a little more involved than that and this is particularly true for winter steelhead. In the first place, most productive steelhead water contains a mixture of currents, all of them flowing at different speeds and intensities. When you cast from the softer water near shore across faster midstream currents, the heavier and thicker fly line moves downstream faster than the leader and fly. This, as all fly fishers know, is called drag. Unless corrected, it pulls the fly downstreamm faster than the current. (more…)

                                   WINTER STEELHEAD SEASON

On the Olympic Peninsula, you can fish for sea-run cutthroat in saltwater during winter and for resident trout in a handful of lakes, but winter steelhead are the main show between late November and the end of April. And the roughly sixty mile stretch of US 101 between the easternmost Sol Duc River bridge and the bridge over the Quinault River crosses arguably the half-dozen healthiest wild winter steelhead rivers in the lower 48 states. Besides turning out impressive numbers of wild and hatchery fish, these rivers  continue to routinely produce fish over 20 pounds, and steelhead weighing more than 30 pounds have been caught in the Sol Duc, Bogachiel and Quinault in recent years.

Now that Puget Sound steelhead have been proposed for listing as threatened under the Endangered Species Act, the West End of the Olympic Peninsula remains Washington’s  last stronghold for winter steelhead fly fishing. Each winter, anglers from around the world travel to the Quillayute System’s Sol Duc, Bogachiel and Calawah and the rain forest’s Hoh, Queets and Quinault rivers when the big anadromous rainbows are on the move.

The relatively sudden transformation of these rivers from the essentially private haunts of local anglers to international fishing destinations, not surprisingly, rankles a lot of people. Unless you know some tricks for getting away from other anglers, it’s way too crowded out here on weekends now. A growing complement of carpetbagger guides swoop into Forks each winter. And we have been laid siege by a glittery array of fish restoration and habitat protection organizations, whose greatest talents seem to be fund raising and self promotion.

A friend and I fished a favorite run on the Sol Duc a couple of years ago. We got there early and had it to ourselves. Presently, we drove downstream, fished a couple of different spots, then crossed the river and headed back upstream. We eventually ended up directly across the river from where we had begun. There were now four nattily-attired anglers  fishing it. We hiked downstream and tried a couple of spots that fish best from that side. When we got back to the car, three more fly fishers were getting out of one of those big SUVs, the kind that look like you could milk a cow in the back of them.

Fortunately, the heaviest angling pressure out here this time of year targets the large hatchery runs to the Bogachiel/Calawah, the lower Hoh, and the Salmon/lower Queets. If you avoid those areas–and fish on weekdays–you can still have a nice day and not have to look at a lot other people. Maybe even catch a fish.

I caught a 10-pounder on the Queets a couple of weeks ago. It was the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend. I had been spending my time on the Salmon River, trying to catch a hatchery fish for the pot, to no avail. I decided to put in a couple of hours on the Queets.

It had dropped into good shape during the weekend cold snap, was, in fact, lower than normal for this time of year and still dropping. I don’t know if any boats had worked it that morning, but there were no trailers that afternoon at the Hartzell Creek launch and the road to the gravel bar had an alder across it. I fished a little flat about halfway between Hartzell and the mouth of the Salmon that the boat guys don’t usually target. I got the fish on a fly Don Kaas gave me, a big black marabou spider tied on a gold hook. I didn’t see another person the entire time I was on the river.

For me, the most compelling thing about Olympic Peninsula winter steelhead fishing is its diversity. I was back on the Salmon the day after I caught the steelhead, roll casting a much smaller spider with a single-handed rod and floating line. A few days later, I fished the lower Hoh. Its long runs and glacial water are a perfect match for my Spey rod and big, attention-getting articulated flies and Waddington shanks.

I haven’t fished the Calawah since the big Monday blow, and I’m anxious to see if I can still hike into my new winter drift. A lot of trees came down during the storm, and sometimes they make it nearly impossible to reach a favorite spot. That happened to me about 10 years ago on a very productive pool on the upper Sol Duc. Both the Calawah’s and the Sol Duc’s tight slots and clear water are great places for smaller flies and shorter tips or T-14.

My good friend, John McMillan’s Optimist is a fine pattern for these rivers. It is the fly on the cover of my book, The Color of Winter. It was inspired by his father, Bill McMillan’s, well known Winter’s Hope. John worked as a field ecologist and biologist for the Hoh Tribe and Wild Salmon Center on the West End for eight years and fished about 300 days a year. He is an expert at reading water and uses precise mends to present his fly to holding steelhead.

Hook–2/0-5/0 Partridge

Thread–orange

Body Hackle–Kingfisher Schlappen, palmered

Collar–Mallard

Wing–Hot orange hackle tips, red underwing

Beac–brass                                                                       

Ten years ago, I wrote in Fly Fishing the Olympic Peninsula that, despite its wealth of fly fishing opportunities–saltwater salmon and trout, summer steelhead, Elwha rainbows, mountain lakes, and my beloved beaver ponds–it was the West End’s winter steelhead that keep me living on the peninsula. That is even more true today. And I have been fly fishing these rivers long enough to understand that winter steelhead fly fishing is about far more than merely casting and swinging flies.

It’s about standing on the lower Hoh and tracking the big storm clouds as they drift in from the ocean, watching them pivot against Kalaloch Ridge, and then drift back north, trailing sheets of rain.

It’s about the beauty of steelhead flies on drab winter days–the vibrant blacks and oranges and purples, the spare elegance of Spey flies, the flamboyance of ostrich and peacock and rhea.

It’s about bushwacking through a big-leaf maple glade on the Queets and suddently smelling that lathered-up-horse scent of elk. It’s sitting on a snow covered Sitka spruce snag next to the Sol Duc and marveling at how incredibly good the huge sandwich you bought at the Lake Pleasant Grocery tastes.

And it’s stopping by the Thriftway for groceries on the way home from the Bogachiel and pausing, as always, to look at my friend, Jack Datisman’s, painting above the check out stands. It depicts a Sol Duc steelhead about to hit a Spey fly. Dick Wentworth, Syd Glasso’s talented protege, caught the fish, a 21-pounder, on a fly of his own design, the Mr. Glasso.

As with all thing of value, winter steelhead fly fishing is about a lot more than simply catching a fish.

But it’s always nice to get that first one under your belt. 

When you have a question about winter steelhead fly fishing on the Olympic Peninsula, there isn’t a better person to answer it than Waters West Fly Fishing Outfitter’s proprietor Dave Steinbaugh. Dave earned his living guiding for winter steelhead on West End rivers for many years before he opened his shop. He is a gifted fly caster and regularly gives Spey casting clinics. Dave is also a superb fly tyer, and his Isabella and Purple and Peacock Shank Fly are two of my favorite steelhead dressings. Because of his long experience on winter rivers, Dave’s store has everything an Olympic Peninsula winter steelheader needs, including a complete line of single and two-handed rods, Spey fly tying materials, Waddington shanks and tubes, and nymph fishing tackle.

For this interview, I concentrated on lines for winter steelhead.

Q–If you had to choose just one full length line for winter fishing, not a multi-tip, what would it be?

Dave–Well, I guess I would choose a floating line. It’s not my cup of tea for winter–I’d really rather have a Versa-tip–but I’d recommend a good floating line like a Clouser Tip or Rio Grande. One with a short heavy head. Most of the floaters have a loop on the end these days, and you can always put a sinking tip or sinking leader on a floating line and get down. But it’s hard to dead drift with a 15 foot sink-tip.

(more…)

 (For those of you who have signed up for the newsletter since it went online, in the past I always devoted the back page of the hard copy winter issue to a retrospective of my year in the field with rod and gun. This is the first one on the website.)

The year that is now coming to an end has been interesting and productive. I had really good saltwater cutthroat fishing during the chum fry migration on Dabob Bay in March. I also had a lot of fun with summer-runs and sea-runs on the Calawah this summer, and I discovered a couple of new bugs on the Elwha that improved my fishing between the dams.

I finally finished my new book, Fly Fishing Guide to the Olympic Peninsula, which should come out in June. By far, the most enjoyable part of writing it was the time I got to spend with Dick Wentworth. He generously contributed a number of his beautiful Spey flies, and photos of him and Syd Glasso and steelhead for the book. I will always treasure the stories he told me of fishing the West End rivers as a young man and later with Glasso. (more…)

Well, the power finally came on Monday afternoon–after 8 days. However, it’s blowing hard today, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if we lose the electricity again. Except for inserting the fly photo into the text, the winter newsletter is done and ready to send out to those of you who have signed up for it. 

In addition, I’ve got a new essay, “The Winter Steelhead Downstream Wet Fly Swing,” and a book review that’ll be on the regular site. I’ll post them the same time as the newsletter. Sorry about the delays, but life has been a little tricky in the rain forest lately.

Anyway, you haven’t missed much steelhead fishing on the West End. 

A number of hatchery fish were taken on the Bogachiel/Calawah last week, and the Sol Duc and creeks have been fishable off and on. Waters West’s Curt Reed caught a steelhead on a creek a few days ago, and I got one on the Queets during a cold snap before the big storm. But there just don’t seem to be very many fish around, either hatchery or wild ones, yet. 

The weather isn’t helping. We have been getting a lot of rain, more than you hear about on the news. The rivers flirt with coming into shape, then dirty up the next day. The upper Bogachiel will look great one day, then turn olive brown the next. Yesterday Ellie and I drove to PA after a night of rain, and even the upper Sol Duc was a frothy greenish white. The upper Bogachiel and Calawah were up and dirty again.

Not surprisingly, the deluge two Mondays ago did a lot of damage on the glacial rivers.  It will take a while to see what runs and drifts are gone on the Queets and Hoh, and if there are any promising new ones. By the way, the Upper Hoh Road is closed 8 miles from the highway. That means you have no access to the Fly Only water.

A lot of small secondary and log roads are still a little dicey, as well. Be careful, especially if you are driving during the dark and don’t know the road well. The shoulders are also really soft in a lot of places. 

Speaking of being careful, the ground is absolutely saturated along many of the coastal rivers. I wouldn’t try bushwacking across any steep grades right now. That is the kind of thing I normally do a lot of, but I’m going to let things dry out for while. 

When conditions are rough on the West End–and they aren’t predicted to get much better this week–I usually fish for cutthroat in saltwater in the Northeastern Olympics. A couple of years ago, I caught my largest cutt of the year, an 18-plush-incher, on December 5.

But that was during a sharp cold snap. I’ve never done as well in saltwater when there’s been a lot of heavy rain. For one thing, storms usually muddy up the nearshore water, which I don’t imagine the fish like in their gill. From my experience, I also don’t usually catch as many fish when there is a layer of freshwater on top of the salt.    

So what do you do? Well, tie flies is the cliche response. But I got pretty sick of sitting around the house trying to keep the wood stove going. I’m going to hit a couple of creeks this week with my single-handed rod. In addition, the Clearwater looked perfect before the most recent storm. It doesn’t have any hatchery steelhead, so my Spey rod and I can probably have it all to ourselves when it drops back into shape. 

I also saw a hooded merganser on a pond a couple of days ago. I’m thinking about trying to get myself some beautiful feathers for Spey flies.

There’s always something to do on the Olympic Peninsula.

Hi Everyone–I haven’t posted a blog the last couple of weeks because I’ve been working on the newsletter–and, to be honest, fishing and duck hunting. I got my first steelhead before the deluge and found a great duck spot. I’ll talk about them, and a lot more, whenever the damn power comes back on. They’re saying now we probably won’t have it until next week. I’m writing this in the Forks Library. Anyway, I’ll try to get the newsletter out by early next week and start posting the blog regularly on Thursdays now that we’re into the winter steelhead season. I’ll also update you on the status of the rivers. You should see Highway 101 between the Queets Road and Lake Quinault and along the lower Hoh. All my best–Doug