The Deschutes, She Giveth and She Taketh

Like Bay de Quinte Walleye, Vermillion Muskies, or Kenai Kings, the Deschutes River is the center of the steelhead fisherman's universe.  With unmatched vistas and some of the most exciting rapids, the river has a little bit extra allure that makes it just all the more exciting as a fishing experience.  The early morning light giving you your first peeks at the beautiful surrounding gorge is sure to have you staring in awe; jaw hanging, wide eyed and grinning at the natural beauty all around you, and thats all before you ever even wet a line.

 September, 12, 2011


With the full moon shining high above in the clear warm night sky, we hopped into the rental car and made our way to the mouth of the Deschutes River near The Dalles in Oregon.  The Lower Deschutes has come to be known as an outstanding fly fishing destination for red sided trout, a native strain to the "D" sought out for its strength and vibrant red striped flanks.  But among steelhead fisherman the Deschutes is an oasis for eastern traveling steelhead who find their biological compass pulling them away from further and further from the salt.  The Dalles, OR marks the first few miles of the eastern side of the Cascade mountains, and is home to some of the most beautiful high desert flora and fauna; Big horn, mule deer, spot the hill tops, and desert sage scents the air.  These things alone are enough to attract fisherman and non believers alike to the spectacular steelhead fishery.


The cool water pumping out of the Deschutes is often cooler than the Columbia that it dumps into and acts as a big wet welcome mat for cold water species making their migration to spawn.   Drawn like moth to a flame, the oxygen enriched water pumping from Pelton dam gives the fish a place to duck down into the cooler water to reenergize, steal a peek at the beautiful surrounding scenery, and get ready for the long trip ahead to return again to their place of birth.  

The columbia is a fish byway, the likes of which is unparalleled in the region.  Its drainage basin is roughly the size of France and extends into seven U.S. states and a Canadian province.  It is truly the Columbia which makes the Deschutes so special.  Because of the volume of water that eventually finds its way into the Columbia it is essentially the adipose fin super highway.  It is the chance at catching a huge Clearwater or Snake R. fish that has fisherman stumbling around the river's slick basalt rock bottom just to swing a fly or cast a bait at bucket list destination.  Fly fisherman and gear fisherman alike, line the banks for miles in the best fishing pools for a shot at hanging their hook in front of some of the biggest and hardest fighting steelhead from near and far.

We fired up the jet motor and headed up through seemingly impassable rapids, dodging giant boulders and shallow water areas in near darkness.  In the early morning light we passed through the gorge, and made our way down the lines of envious fisherman lining the banks before we finally came to our first stop at the head of good looking pool just above a good set of rapids.  

Still marveling at views, not at all done justice with the narrow lens of the camera, we hopped out of the boat, and starting working the water.  It's like women, Grant said, "Its a just a numbers game, the more ground you cover and more times you can drop your lure in front of them, the better chance you have of catching one."  He explained his best method for success on the River: casting two or three times straight out into the heavy current and letting current pull the line and bring the lure, swinging, drawing the wobbling plug down and through the stike zone.  Casting again, and peeling an extra hand full of line off to put the lure just another foot or two down stream for its next arching pass by the fish, and then taking a step or two further.  We went on repeating on and on, with the mind caught between focus on catching fish and soaking up the view.  After finishing the first hundred yard stretch we came up empty.  A trip back to the sled and a change of colors had us back out in the same stretch.  Again, no takers.  

Thankfully our guide, Grant Putnam of Grant's Outdoor Adventures, had another trick up his sleeve.  We jumped into our seats and grant pulled out the side planer rods and we headed up stream to try a different piece of water.  We switched up colors and fed out line to get the plugs wobbling in the strike zone in front of the holding fish, heads held up stream.

"Planer board fishing is when you can really tell what colors and what plugs are hot that day", Grant said.  It wasn't longer than 4 or 5 steps into the new stretch and I had hooked into my very first Deschutes R. native.  He explained that "planer boards are key on days like the days such as this when the fish just don't seem to be aggressively snapping at spinners or plugs being casted and retrieved through the current seam".  Planer boards cut out the need to cast and retrieve, by using the current to to work against the angle of planer to hold the plug steady at a desired point in the stream.  Grant says that "the reason that the reason plugs have been so popular on the Deschutes is because you can run them down in the rocks and not worry about getting hung up.  They just bounce off those rocks and keep on thumping.  A lot of the time knocking off a rock will flip that switch and make the fish take the bait."

I haven't caught a ton of steelhead but even someone with my limited steelhead background, could tell right away that this fish had some good shoulders to it.  After a few really strong runs up stream and a jump, the fish made its way over to Grant.  He gave the hatchery hen a good "wood shampooing" , and tossed her into the box.

After finishing up that stretch I had hooked two fish  on the same "coward" pattern River Rocker. we headed back down stream and tied up at one of his favorite spots and eased the boat in to shore.

After spending the whole day struggling to keep my footing the inevitable finally happened.  I took a swim.  Into the water with a full on "lawn chair": feet flying out from underneath me and folding up over my head.  Like everyone with a shiny new pair of shades, I was certain I couldn't possibly lose them in waist high water. Sadly...I found out that my prized new pair of sun glasses are anything but buoyant.

I'll admit it, the moment got to me.  Clutching at the water for the glasses, doing the cold water gasp, dilated pupils squinting in the bright mid day sun, and the wader boots that were just a half size too small for me all hit me at that moment and got me feeling real sorry for myself.  I slipped and slided my way back to the bank cursing the waders and the water and my lack of coordination.  I plopped down on the bank and kicked my feet up on the tree to let the water drain out of the waders.  In that moment I had one of those realizations.

Grant Putnam holding a nice hatchery hen, one of two fish caught on the LRR523

Why in the world was I feeling sorry for myself, because I lost my glasses and my feet hurt, and-.  I caught my string of thoughts right there and mentally gave myself a big kick in the pants. "Get a grip dude.  Who cares about a pair of stinkin' sunglasses anyway.  You're on the Deschutes!"  Maybe I drank a little too much river water, but I went from feeling great about catching my first Deschutes Steelhead to feeling like folding up shop and eating chips in the boat for the rest of the day, and then back on top of the world despite being short my spendy brand name fishing glasses and being long on water in the wader.

So I trudged back out, slipping and sliding my way to the current seam.  I filled my waders up to the knees on the way out falling two or three more times, but I was owning it, and I was going to catch just one more fish.

Make sure if you ever get a chance to fish the Deschutes to do so.  Just make sure don't use your the waders that you borrow from your hypothetical friend who lives in Washington, use Grant's waders.  Or your hypothetical friend in Washington will likely give you hard rubber bottom soles and think its absolutely hilarious to watch you slip and slide your way through the day... not that a real friend from Washington did that to me.

Got any good fishin' stories? Share them below in the comments section, or if you want to be featured in the next post, or just want to talk fishing... Email me!




-mc

Swimming with the fishes

Not that I've ever been there, but I would bet that if you walked into Bob Bohland's home you would find, after pushing your way past heaps of fishing tackle, mountain dew cans, and Minnesota Twins paraphernalia, the walls lined with posters of Frankenstein headed bluegills and black white hub cap slabs in lieu of the obligatory above the bed Pam Anderson poster.  Simply put, Bob is a full fledged panfish pervert and doesn't care who knows it.

A muskie guy myself, I understand the unexplainable and undying love that can only be shared between man and fish.  But Bob takes his love to new heights, above and beyond what anyone might consider normal.  "What has always been tough for people to fight beyond the same old boring image in their mind's eye of targeting panfish solely involving a foam float, hook and minnow". ..Yawn...

Bob's buddies from school

"But that's just not the case", Bob says.  followed by his long contemplative pause.  (I could hear his wheels turning)

"Have you ever been snorkel fishing?", I haven't, but I told him that I would love to give it a shot once I got away from the water moccasin infested waters of Arkansas.

 Snorkel fishing, he explained, is not just a cool way to drop a bait in front of a fish, or a new way to get out and enjoy the company of his piscatorial life partner.  Snorkel fishing is the best way to learn about fishing for bluegills and crappie alike.  You can have a chance to see with your own two eyes the structural features that the fish hang out in, understand how the fish hang in different types of underwater structure.  Bob has even go so far as to bring a waterproof GPS unit under the waves with him to drop marks on spots to return to fish later.

The most important part of it all is how the fish react to your presentation.  "You can learn a ton about what the fish want"  Because you are down there with the fish you can tell what they like and what they don't.  If you are doing everything right but can't get them to commit you just make a quick change and get back down to see what the fish think of the new color, size, or whatever.

The biggest advantage of snorkel fishing is the fact that it will help you catch the targeted fish. "When you're in a boat you never really have a problem finding or catching fish, but they're rarely the fish that you are looking for, they're the immature fish that need to aggressively feed", Bob explained. The same thing that makes these smaller fish aggressively snap up any possible food source that might fit inside their pea sized mouths, is also what keeps them at bay when snorkel fishing he said "The smaller fish are aware that they are prey for larger fish, and are a lot less comfortable with your presence in the water, but the Big ones will usually stick around and stand their ground which gives you a good shot at catching them".

Bob and his friend discuss their forage preferences

Not many people have better touch than Bob does when it comes to panfish.  On the ice he just has a way of coaxing the fish to bite while other guys struggle to turn lookers into biters.  Bob accredits his intuition in Jigging to his time spent under the water studying the cause and effect relation between his movements and the Jig's below. "The fish will tell you what is working and what isn't.  That's the best part about snorkel fishing.  You have a chance to really work on your jigging to see how your wrist's movement correlates to the action of the jig.  It gives me practice time to learn how to get the jig to do certain things, as well as to see how the fish react".

Bluegills are one of the only fish that have the ability to turn their eyes downward.  This ability is very indicative of their reliance on their outstanding eye sight, but is also a fact which has played into Bob's game plan for selecting for larger fish in underwater situations.  He will often times find that dropping his jig below the fish will often trip something in the fish that will get them to bite.  "A lot of guys think that pulling the jig up and up is always the answer, and it works quite a bit, but you can't forget that these fish are used to things swimming down and away, towards cover, as well."

Bohland's preferential jig for snorkel fishing, the Lindy Bug.  An ice fishing jig by design, is what Bob has found to be best in these situations because of its detailed paint schemes and the action that he feels he can impart on the lead.  "Jig's with a faceted back combined with a soft plastic tail really help to control the jig and put a little swim in the action rather than the typical vertical jig presentation.

Got any good fishin' stories? Share them below in the comments section, or if you want to be featured in the next post?  Email me: mcarufel@lindylittlejoe.com




-mc

-1

As I get out and fish with new people I realize more and more that some people just have a certain something about them that makes them better at fishing than the man or woman in then boat next to them.  Call it luck, skill, or patience; regardless of age, sex, or experience there seems to be a certain fishy factor that makes for a good fisherman that either a person has lacks.  I never really knew how far that spectrum of fish catching skill actually streched in the non-fish-catching direction until I took someone out on the water who was so lacking in said X factor that they managed to repel fish from their immediate vicinity.

A few years ago I took a buddy of mine out on a not so secret walleye honey hole in the north metro area in Minnesota for some night time slip bobbering targeting my favorite Minnesotan species: Walleye.  We were one of three boats on the lake and everyone around us was catching fish left and right.  There was nothing high tech about the presentation that night, as it remains to this day, you pull up to a shallow rock/ mud transition adjacent to the deep water and search for the weed line, plop out the leeches and be ready with the Beckman.  By the time I had two or three fillet worthy 'eyes in the boat I realized that my buddy hadn't had so much as a bite.

So we pulled up his line, checked the leech (it was looking good and healthy), double checked his to make sure his depth was set correctly, and put him back down in the hole where I had pulled a few fish out of, and I took up post on the other end of the boat to let him have a few.

A few more fish in the well for me and I decided to swap rods with him. We hooked up two jet black strong swimming leeches, and dropped them back down on the weed edge.  You can guess what happened from there; another bite or two for me and a good half hour of nothing for him during that prime time sun dropping below the tops of the trees time of day.

I had no more logical changes to make, but I do keep one final superstitious trick up my sleeve for such an occasion to try and shake just such a fishless slump.  After finding myself in the same situation countless times I have found that opening up the live well and touching the fish usually breaks up the bad juju. So as coached, he cracked open the lid, grabbed the prettiest 18 inch walleye in the well and hoisted it up saying, "I just want one of-" and at that moment the fish flipped to brake free of the gill grip, flopped to bounce off the gunnel and landed with a splash in the drink where he came from.  I looked over at him in one with one of those looks of disbelief and shock that can only come in such a moment as this.  He found himself in the dreaded moment of awkwardness that accompanies all inexplicable mistakes followed by a long pause, and his his blunt summation of the situation, "well" he said kneeling on the floor of the boat, washing his hands of the fish slime, "I guess that puts me at -1 for the day then".

We finished up the night shortly after with 4 in the well, and he never did even get so much as a bite that night despite our best efforts to get a him a tug on the end of his line.

Some people certainly do possess the fish catching prowess that allows them to out fish the other person in the boat, not to say that I am one of those people, but as unique as that skill is it's certainly harder to find someone that is so void of the fish catching X factor that they manage to repel fish even after they have been netted and boxed.

Have any good fish stories? Share them below in the comments section, or if you want to be featured in the next post?  Email me: mcarufel@lindylittlejoe.com 




-mc

The human fish finder

If anyone ever wanted to hear a fishing story all they would need to do is get in touch with Jonny Petrowske. Jonny P, as he is known by most, is the 4th generation Upper Red Lake fishing guide, bear guide, minnow trapper and cigar connoisseur. Jonny's family staked their claim in Waskish shortly after the Wright brother's famous first flight in Kittyhawk in 1903…long before the crappie boom that brought the rest of the free world to the northern Minnesota lake. The Petrowske's have called the lake home ever since. To this day Jonny owns and operates Outdoors with Jonny P.  The Petrowske family has been witness to their share of remarkable stories over that time.

Jonny's Great Grandfather's boat, The Chief, on Red Lake
July 4th, 1914

Not too long ago when I first met Jonny, while fishing up on Red with a few other guys, we gathered outside one of the houses to keep out of the wind after setting up our tipups. We wanted to stay within sight of the flags should one of the Red Lake pike decide to chomp one of our suckers.

As with most fishermen, guides are also highly susceptible to storytelling when given the right scenario. Luckily for me and the other pike fisherman huddled outside the ice house that day, this happened to be just such an occasion.

THE HUMAN FISH FINDER

Not too long ago when I first met Jonny, while fishing up on Red with a few other guys, we gathered outside one of the houses to keep out of the wind after setting up our tipups. We wanted to stay within sight of the flags should one of the Red Lake pike decide to chomp one of our suckers.

As with most fishermen, guides are also highly susceptible to storytelling when given the right scenario. Luckily for me and the other pike fisherman huddled outside the ice house that day, this happened to be just such an occasion.

Some of the great Upper Red slabs on display

The Upper Red Lake crappie boom as it came to be known in Minnesota, was a meat hunter's mecca for those from across the Midwest, Canada, and further.  The lake was overflowing with some of the biggest crappie that any Minnesota fishery had to offer. With the influx of great fishing, and naturally the great fishing brings fishermen, masses of people on ice with heavy machinery and alcohol generally produces some interesting results to say the least.  So it was that Jonny, like the rest of the guides on the lake, had grown over time to become as accustomed to the unexpected as a person really ever could be, but the sight that awaited him on the other side of the door was one that no one could ever have been fully expecting.

The door swung open and there was Jon, shoulders pressed tight against the floor of the shack, hands flat against the floor and head wedged snug inside the 10inch hole that Jonny's auger had cut the day before.

Jonny hurried to his knees and looked down in the hole to see what needed to be done.

Like a barb on a hook the man's nose had allowed him to get his head down into the hole, but was not allowing him to pull it back out of the hole.  His lips held just above the water line in the hole Jon was hanging on for life.

Jonny grabbed his pocket knife and begun to whittle and shave away at the ice holding his nose locked firmly in place.  Little by little he freed John's head from the ice.

Then came the exchange of words that would naturally follow such an unnatural event.  Jonny asked the 60 year old man, "Why in the world did you have your head stuck in there?" to which the man replied, "I was looking for the fish".

Have any good fish stories? Share them below in the comments section, or if you want to be featured in the next post?  Email me: mcarufel@lindylittlejoe.com 

-mc