North 40 Fly Shop eMagazine August 2017 | Page 30

Photo by Jerrin Uecker of North 40 Outfitters Worry After loading into the jet-boat we ran to the mouth of the river, only to find the water looking a bit murky. We thought, Maybe the mud is only influencing the lower portion of the river and that, upstream, water clarity wouldn’t be an issue. Unfortunately, 20 miles upstream we found the same conditions, with a river offering only six inches of visibility. Even so, I tied on a mouse pattern. I forgot about bananas and just about everything else when, on the third cast, a bull trout exploded on the mouse. He missed it cleanly, but I was now expecting to catch a lot of fish. We worked five runs thoroughly, but after a while we only had two or three fish to hand—nothing like the fishing we experienced the year before. And then it started to rain. Would the river blow out completely, I wondered? Would we be able to find enough fish to make everyone happy and get the footage we desired? A dismal feeling crept over me. And I had to consider, Was it a mistake to expect the fishing to be fantastic two years in a row? I started feeling more optimistic at the next run where we landed eight fish in rapid succession. Then we cruised downstream and up a side channel where a clear creek flowed in. That stream provided about 10 feet of clear water in the main channel and the bull trout were stacked up there. We doubled on bulls right away. Then I skated a mouse and caught a big sea-run cutthroat. After that the bulls kept coming and when we motored away from the 30 channel we’d landed about 15 of them. But, Houston, we had a problem; the rain didn’t let up. We stopped at three more runs on our way downstream and couldn’t dredge up a fish. That evening, while resting on the mothership, the rain poured down and I started to truly believe in the banana law. Doubt In the morning we all agreed; no bananas for breakfast. Maybe no bananas ever again. Coffee and bacon and eggs . . . and nothing else. From now on, the threat of a bypass would just be part of the game. We were gearing up to fish a different river this day, and praying for cleaner water. Cruising into its estuary we found the water to be “steelhead green.” We tried to keep our hopes in check. That only lasted until we got to the river and saw rock shelves three or four feet down—perfect conditions. We raced upstream to the first run. Then we piled out of the boat and started fishing the deeper pockets where bull trout live. And we caught . . . nothing. We quickly moved to another nice run and only caught a couple small bulls. I was about to admit that this trip wouldn’t live up to the experience I’d had in 2016, but then I threw a cast behind me, into shallow water, where Jake and Jerrin were filming. And on the hang-down a bull crushed the fly. I landed that fish, and without moving my feet caught five more from the shallows. In the morning we all agreed; no bananas for breakfast. Maybe no bananas ever again. Coffee and bacon and eggs . . . and nothing else. 31