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First tracks on the Sky January 17, 2012

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First tracks on the Sky

Noah gunning for winter steel on the Skykomish.

Pink Sno September 26, 2011

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The boys and I picked up Regular Grandpa this morning on our way to fish for pinks on the Snohomish.  We fished the same spot the week before and got skunked: lots of fish jumping and finning, but no bite.  This time the boys were set up with gaudy pink maribou jigs while I was armed with an assortment of clousers, comets and other pink accoutrements.

Don and the boys ended up fishing well above me.  At one point I turned to see Noah putting his little spin rod to the test with a sturdy fish on the other end.  I reeled in quickly to lend a hand and noticed he was putting down the rod.  I guessed he’d lost the fish, but since I was out of the water anyway, I might as well make the walk up and check in.  Halfway there I hear him yell.  “Dad, I got one.  Can I kill it?”  He was holding the salmon over his head like a prize fighter holding a championship belt.  “Sure,” I yelled back, while several guys on the bank started to laugh.

When I finally reached them, the salmon was quietly resting on the bank and he was back fishing.  Turns out his drag had failed shortly after he hooked the fish, so he dropped the rod and fought it hand-over-hand, landed it by himself with no net, and bonked it all on his own.  Jack hooked and lost three fish, including one that was a real pig.  Me?  Shut out, again, but couldn’t have been more proud.

Cold steel September 12, 2011

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I got up early to swing some flies on the Sky yesterday but no luck finding a fish. Noah and I found a long sweeper last year that looked like pretty ideal holding water so I thought I’d give it a try. I wanted to beat any crowds so I got there well before daylight and used a headlamp to beat through the blackberries.  Eventually I made my way  to the top of the hole and ended up standing around for a few minutes before I could see the end of my rod. I threw the same black General Practitioner I used on the Hoh — which, coincidentally, is the same fly I caught a small wild steelhead two years ago on the Sky — using a 10′ sink tip on the end of my floating line. That setup worked good at the head and tailout, but I didn’t like it in the slower part of the run, so I ended up monkeying around a bit in places trying to figure out the best method for keeping the fly in play. I brought my spool with the intermediate shooting head and tried a stimulator/dropper setup with a stonefly at one point, then went back to the floater with a regular 9′ leader and dredged the hole again with an egg-sucking bunny leech. It really should have been a dynamite morning as there was a heavy fog that kept the sun off the water until almost 9. Guess that’s why they call it fishing and not catching.

Dog days August 31, 2011

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King me August 30, 2011

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Bonked this 13lb blackmouth fishing with Pardis off West Point this morning.  The fish hit a green speckled hoochie at 115′.  We also picked up a 6lb coho on the way in.  Great way to start the day.

 

First salmon of the year August 3, 2011

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On my Redington 8wt casting a Pink Comet tied by Jimmy LeMert.  On my birthday.  Booya.  

The Quilcene River and a Life Ruined July 8, 2011

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Noah and I fished the Quilcene on Sunday, the first time either of us had stepped foot in the river.  We tried to get advice on access points from the ranger station in Qulcene, but the two cotton-tops behind the counter were less than helpful.  Apparently they don’t much care for fishermen in the park. 

With the hatchery closed, we made our way up FS27 and scouted the upper section of the river.  There we found more water than I expected.  It was cold and fast and although we whipped the water in a few places, weren’t able to raise a fish. 

I’d read a bit about the Quilcene estuary through Doug Rose and Les Johnson so downstream we went.  A nice guy at the boat launch directed us to the access point and a few minutes later we were wandering down the road paralleling the lower section of the river.   We didn’t get very far before the first long hole appeared.  It was too nice to pass up so we stepped in and I helped Noah find his swing with the 8.5 foot Browning boron rod dad gave us. 

On about his third cast he rolled a fish just off the bank below us using an elk hair caddis I tied this spring.  Several more casts and the fish took another swing.  Noah started picking his way down the bank, casting and seeing if he could raise him again.  I headed back over the bank to tie on an Adams when I heard him holler.  There he was, knee deep in the run, rod tip up and a beauty of a sea run cutthroat showing off his best acrobatics.

Noah played him well, even when the fish ran straight at him, and before too long had him to hand.  I slipped the hook out and Noah let him on his way.  I swear I’ve never seen that kid smile so big in my life.  That was his first fish on a fly rod where he did all the work.  “He’s ruined forever,” dad said the next day when I told him what happened. 

Ruined forever indeed.

Salty Cutt June 18, 2011

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Not his first, but definitely his biggest.  Noah B. wrestling a scrappy sea run cutthroat off Meadowdale beach.

Meadowdale May 29, 2011

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Beautiful 14-15″ cutt to hand this morning.  Bright and free of sea lice.  Fished the last two hours of the drop to 0.   Walked into a school of baitfish and started casting a brown sand lance, solid pickup but didn’t hammer the fly.  Saw a few other nice fish jump but no other hookups.  I ended throwing one of Jeffrey Delia’s cone head squid patterns.  At least the sculpin liked it.

Spring Training May 23, 2011

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Prince Nymph, March Brown and Delectable Golden Stone.

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