Winter: It Ain't All Bad

A River for Christmas from Joel La Follette on Vimeo.

I'm going to need to try my luck for some of these bull trout on the Met. (I could probably due without the music, however.)

NW Chronicles: Montana

I still have a couple of leftover grasshoppers in my fly box from when I was a kid. I loved fishing them in Michigan on hot summer days, but I have never used them out here in Oregon. Whenever I see them stuffed the box, however, a voice haunts me: Montana.

This September, the wife and I packed up the car and drove east to find out what the buzz was about. I’d heard of giant brown trout attacking hopper-dropper rigs on the epic Montana rivers surrounded by huge, snow topped mountains.

We spent the first night in Livingston, a classic old western town that seemed to be inhabited by drunks, fishermen, and drunk fishermen. We popped into the famous Dan Bailey Fly shop to get some info and licenses. Everywhere around town were images of fishing. I knew we had arrived in some sort of fishing Mecca.

On our first day, we hit the Gallatin river--a beautiful, crystal clear mountain stream. I managed to pick up a beautiful little rainbow on a BWO. There’s something about that first fish on a trip, you know? It’s a great relief to the soul and the pressure of getting skunked is shaken off. I always find at that point I can actually begin to enjoy the water, the scenery, and the spirit of a place.

The NW Chronicles: Touching the Beast

Greetings fellow anglers. It is with great excitement, I report to you the end of the two and a half year steelhead curse! On Sunday, I fought a bright-chrome Deschutes steelhead and won. Who knew life could be so sweet. Perhaps contributing to Four Seasons has brought me great luck? I would like to think so.

The day began much like last week. Three beautiful redsides in the eddies, and three more shaken off. Having fished the week before, I felt confident I knew where the fish were. I just had to entice them with a BWO emerger.

And just like last week, I hit the steelhead run just as the sun was coming off the canyon. I focused on a little faster and shallower water than last week. On about the tenth cast, the rod pulled hard and before I knew it, line was peeling out. My eyes bulge out and my heart started beating as I looked down stream and saw my line running out.

NW Chronicles: Chasing Steel

Greetings fellow anglers. It’s a great honor to get to share some of my experiences fishing here in the Northwest with all of you on this fine blog. I thought I’d start with a report from last weekend on the Deschutes, or the “D” as we call it out here.

It all started with a reliable report of multiple steelhead hook-ups from a familiar run. I decided to head out on Sunday and see if I couldn’t try my luck. I hit the river a little later than normal, as steelhead tend to be inactive when there’s sun on the water. As I headed to the run from the parking lot, I stopped at a the first big back eddy to see if I could see any trout holding. A well known secret about the Deschutes this time of year is the great trout fishing afforded by the lack of angling pressure. When the steelhead push up the river in the fall, most anglers abandon their 4-weights and dry fly boxes and head to the long riffle runs to swing big ten foot 8-weights for chrome. The same way fish key-in on a particular hatch, the fishermen seem to key-in on particular fish.