Caddis Fly Shop: Oregon Fly Fishing Blog

In anticipation of the Willamette’s spring run of steelhead and salmon, it seemed like high time to row the twenty-plus miles from Dexter to Eugene. By last Saturday, roughly a thousand spring chinook and another thousand summer steelhead had passed Willamette Falls. Friends had informed me that those fish only took a couple of weeks to start showing in Eugene. In fact a couple of steelhead had already been caught in town. It was time to scope out the river and identify the best Spey water.

My good friend and guide Adam McNamara came down for a couple of days of exploration. We launched on the East side of the river at Dexter Dam. Nancy’s Shuttle Service (541-684-4515) ran our shuttle down to town for the reasonable fee of $20–less than a dollar per river mile! It was her first time running a turnaround on that section, but she took good care of us, and soon we were shoving off. Immediately upon embarking, we noticed that the run at the dam was prime Spey water, so we pulled to the West bank and broke it into two sections. I went to the top, Adam fished the super-sweet lower half. Amazingly we were the only anglers on the West side. I’m told that is something of a miracle, and not to expect such an opportunity when the fish are in. But it swung like a hot Spey rod through butter. There were a few especially sexy spots, and every time the speed and draw of the fly felt right, a little yank told me there was a smolt on the line. It was smolt hell, actually.

From the dam, we stayed right around the first island. Looking at Google Maps the night before, it looked like the right channel carried the most water, and it was smooth sailing. Caddis and mayflies were hatching everywhere, and Adam hooked a number of small trout as we drifted. The first two miles of the float offered gorgeous trout water and pleasant scenery. Ever the king junkie, I made mental note of some prime springer holes, as well as a handful of nice Spey runs. One cutthroat kelt ate a giant Intruder, jumping like a steelhead and giving me a mild heart attack.

By Jasper, the road was following us on the East bank. We even had the opportunity to run into the Jasper Store for some fresh chicken wings and beer. From there things got pretty stupid, but we enjoyed the float, fished very little, and made lots of dopey comments like “this spot blows” or “hey, this one’s pretty sweet.” We stayed right at every major split, having bee advised that a tree was down somewhere in the left channel. Adam sized up every tight spot for its jet-boating potential, noting one tricky spot that might cut off his access. Awww, too bad! Light rain came and went throughout the day, bugs flittered all around us, and we had the sense that the Middle Fork was a slice of paradise on earth, especially back in the day, before dams cut off the river’s legendary spring salmon from their spawning beds.

Before we knew it we rounded a big bend and saw the train bridge above Island Park. Over twenty miles in just one short day! That was, by far, the most river miles I had ever covered in such a short time. Suddenly the water felt fishier. The runs were laid out for swinging, like a steelheading theme park. The reputation of the “Town Run” clicked into place. I had always liked the water from Island Park to Valley River, but seeing the whole river put it into context.

We finished the evening swinging all my favorite water through town, pulling the boat out as darkness fell. Adam couldn’t believe we were only five minutes from my house. I looked out at the twinkling water, reflecting the Springfield street lights, and a wave of anticipation came over me. Springers were on their way, and summer steelhead! Eugene was about to become a fly angler’s playground, and now I was ready.

The next day we trucked down to Elkton and ran a short section of the Umpqua. We swung over rolling kings in an especially nice Spey run. But no grabs. We fished it again–nothing. A big king shot straight out of the water in front of me as I made a cast. We tried going deeper, then deepest. No dice. I pulled out my salmon kryptonite, rowed to the top and made a pass with the Kwikies. The rod flattened out, and a perfect hatchery spring chinook kicked my butt for the next ten minutes. There’s chrome, and then there’s super-chrome. This fish was the latter. When it hit the beach, there was a goofy missed high five, and the sound of bottle caps popping. The sun came out, I sipped my beer, and thought for the umpteenth time “I’m so glad I moved to Eugene.”–Rob Russell

For years I chased these silver slabs with every stick known to man, but I had no idea that the tactic of Spey fishing was going to be so much fun and rekindle my fire for Steelhead. The whole adventure started when the buzz that started over switch rods. I just had to have one! The possibilities of using this rod in salt for surf perch and fresh water for a Steelhead got my juices flowing. After purchasing a this set-up I started thinking about Spey rods, bought Lani Waller’s latest book A Steelheader Way, and found myself fantasizing about hooking Steelhead on the long rod. After reading, researching, and drool frequently I settled on a set-up. A Sage Z-Axis 7136, Bauer Rogue 6, Rio floating running line, Skagit 500 grain head, and Rio 15ft. sink tip in a no. 3, 6, and 8 to cover different depths and flows. Then I had the realization that I had no idea how to use this tool. I purchased RIO’s DVD, Modern Spey Casting. This was the best thing I could do as a novice Spey Caster. This DVD lays out all the casts and allows you to review the casts you will need to get the job done on the river.

What’s next—hit the water. Well, let’s just say that my first day on the water was interesting. I made a few good casts but quickly realized that I was going to need some guidance and a lot of practice. My next practice session I invited a veteran Spey Caster, Matt Siegmund, to come along and provide some guidance—what a help this was! He had me shooting line after a couple fine adjustments. All I can say is get your bottom hand in the game. Casting these rods is not like your single hand rod and your instinct is to use your traditional single hand stroke; the ache in your wrist will quickly let you know that you are doing something wrong. The top hand is the fulcrum and the bottom hand is firmly pulled toward you in the casting stroke to provide the power.

After a few practice sessions I felt like I had my Snap-T down for the river-left bank, so it was on to the Double-Spey for the river-right bank. Now maybe at this point you are thinking this is just too involved to bother with. No way! When you make a good cast you can feel it all the way to your toes. It’s like striking a baseball in the sweet spot and sailing it over the wall. I was able to present the fly fine during the process and had the possibility of hooking a fish at any time during the learning process. That is exactly what happened last night.

At the last minute yesterday we headed up to Dexter to get a little “casting practice” as there are only a thousand summer Steelhead over the falls. After about 10 cast the line came time with a strobing surge. After the second surge my brain kicked in, “hey dummy that’s a fish!” I set the hook and we were off to the races. The long rod is a blast to fight fish on and my Bauer Rogue 6 was so smooooth I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. I could only think to myself, “Why didn’t I start Spey fishing sooner and why isn’t everyone doing this.” I’ve become a Spey-addict…it’s a twelve step program.–Tony Torrence