Coastal Rivers of Oregon
Austin McPherson
Not long ago my friend Ryan, his black lab Jackson, and I headed to the coast to look for some dime-bright chromers. The great thing about coastal rivers in Oregon is that they are so close to each other. You can fish one in the morning and take a 10-minute car ride and be on a different one to fish the afternoon. We found a cool campsite right near the beach in Tillamook Bay. We set up tent and took Jackson to the beach to check out the saltwater and run around in the sand. It wasn’t five minutes into that little stroll on the beach that the only piece of equipment we had to document the trip was killed. Yes, sadly the camera that had documented over three years of fishing trips was laid to rest on the beach of Tillamook Bay when a rising tide caught us by surprise and the camera fell out of my buddy’s pocket. Straight out of a movie, we rushed in to pick it off the beach and try and revive it but just as I reached down to it, the ocean claimed our dear friend, absolutely.
Our trip had officially begun. It never begins for us until something goes wrong, so we were quickly into a solid camping trip. We were a little bummed because with the exception of camera phones we had no way to document any part of the trip. Fortunately, we brought plenty of brats and beer to eat and drink our sorrows away and wait for morning.
We woke early, and headed out to a popular coastal river and were in the water by 7:30. Five boats had already been put in at this run. They start early out here I guess. Regardless, we were eager to get our flies in the water and swing some sexy water, and that we did. We played a modest version of bumper boats throughout our float, but you have to expect that in the height of steelhead season on a popular river on a Saturday. All day long, we did not get a tug from a fish, but we saw three gear guys pull out nice, dime-bright fish. It just goes to show that fly-fishing for steelhead is a hell of a lot tougher and a hell of a lot more demanding than chucking an egg sac on a hook downstream. One of these days it’s going to come together for me. I know this is a fact because I am determined to fish for steelhead until I get that first tug and land that first chromer. And then after that happens I’ll most likely be hooked for the rest of my life.
For two days we fished hard, heavy and deep. We hit three rivers and fished some great water. We actually saw the sun on Sunday, which was weird for Oregon in February. I was actually steelheading without my gloves and jacket on for the first time ever. I almost felt like it wasn’t real steelheading because I could actually feel my hands and feet.
Even if we did land a fish I wouldn’t have any evidence to prove it, so the trip went about as we planned it to. I’m just going to keep on fishing until I pop my steelhead cherry. Hopefully a nice little hen fresh from the salt will help me with that sometime soon.
Wet Boots Are a Way of Life.
Posted at 01:24 PM | Permalink
When wading boots are never dry, when passion — some would say obsession — for fly-fishing is so great, wet boots are a way of life. Wet Boots (the blog) is for anglers who know fly-fishing is far more than a way of catching fish. Wet Boots. No bait fishermen.
