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A Fly Fishing Tale
Storms continued as we moved across Oregon. We were disappointed when we saw the changes at Hot Springs Campground on the Hart Mountain Refuge. But with the massive cuts to both funding and personnel in our Federal natural resources agencies, what else can we expect? We decided we’d take advantage of the cooler temperatures this wave of storms brought and made our destination the Donner und Blitzen River. The river slices through a sagebrush steppe that, in summer, can be downright hot. We settled into a high lonesome spot as the storm cleared with hope that the forecast for clear days ahead would ring true.
The lingering clouds once again produced stunning colors.
As predicted, first light the next morning revealed blue skies.
To reach our entry point into the Blitzen canyon required a long rough drive, some in four low. We hoped we’d find some level ground where we could possibly camp, but that was not the case. The Lady added her ghost net to her pack as we readied for the hike down through the basalt cliffs.
The Lady was thrilled to find Sagebrush Mariposa Lilies (Calochortus macrocarpus).
We’ve found the Blitzen is always a bit cloudy. It is also a tangled mess in the canyon bottom. Sometimes you could think of this as more combat then fly fishing with the effort it takes to get into the canyon, the hard to see rocks and holes when wading, and the near impossibility of moving along the bank.
The Lady is having so much fun with her phone camera, most of these photos are hers. And she’s getting a kick out of documenting these adventures, such as me getting my rod, reel, and gear set up. And do you remember the Patagonia fly vest she spotted in the outlet in Reno?
The Blitzen, I’m finding, is an exciting fishery with native Harney-Malheur Basin Redband Trout. I caught a small trout on the first cast. As always, it was carefully released. On the second cast I allowed the dry fly to drift far downstream without drag. The take was powerful and the trout ran into the current.
“This is a nice fish. You won’t believe the size. Let's see if I can bring it to the net. Come close.”
What a surprise it was to feel the weight and strength of this fish. The Lady was ready as I slid the redband into her waiting net.
Wow, what an exciting start, and we planned to fish here all day. The next redband was larger, 16 inches as measured with the opening of the Lady’s ghost net.
We moved upstream. I waded and carefully worked along the bank until I could climb out into tall grass. The Lady found a way through the thicket. I should note this canyon is notorious for its population of rattlesnakes. Like poison oak in the low lands, we are always alert for rattlers here. We came upon a talus slope of large blocks of basalt from the cliffs above. The Lady crossed first. I followed. A large block rolled underfoot. I went backward, down into the rocks, and onto my fly rod.
Many years ago I built five graphite fly rods. This rod I built 30 years ago. The reel seat insert was turned from curly maple I used on my personal banjo. I used a three piece five weight graphite blank I purchased from a small custom rod builder in northern California. I’ve used it all these years and it’s been on uncountable fly fishing adventures from the Pasayten in Washington to the Wind River Range in Wyoming and so many Wilderness areas in Idaho and Colorado.
The rod was now broken behind me in the talus. We were both stunned. We quietly gathered our gear up, donned our packs, and climbed up through the cliff bands out of the canyon. What should we do? I’m unable to build a new rod. My skill doing close, precise work is gone—gone with my deteriorating eyesight after the retina detachment and the tumor in my dominant right hand that took the feeling in two fingers and part of the palm. But I can still hold and cast a fly rod. We stopped at the old shot up car and thought it through.
The only conclusion we came up with here was we were damn glad we weren’t Bonnie & Clyde. We reached the truck and began the long slow drive out to pavement. The realization that it was the 4th of July weekend and we’d not seen another person or vehicle cheered us up. We needed more, much much more of this. We needed a new fly rod and as quickly as possible. It took a couple of hours to find cell service where we could get an over view of fly shops in Oregon. We headed to Bend.
Vinny at the Confluence Fly Shop was so much fun to work with. He is a very young man, full of juice, with a passion for fly fishing. After telling our story and our need, we arranged three fly rods on the table. Vinny grabbed two reels with 5 weight line. The third reel was mine—the first fly reel model built by Ross Reels in Montrose, Colorado; yup, owned and used for well over 30 years. He and the other fellow in the shop had never seen one, a testament to the disadvantage of youth. The three rods were Sage, Orvis, and Winston. And, looking at the price tags, their top of the line offerings. But, the only thing that matters is how they cast and feel in use. We went outside to give them a workout.
First up was the Sage. A few forward and backcasts and I handed it back to Vinny. “I’m not buying this.” The Orvis was next, a fine rod, I really liked it. The Winston finished out the trio. It most reminded me of my old broken rod, except with a livelier feel, a quicker rebound. “You throw nice tight loops with the Winston. It looks good,” Vinny observed. But I kept coming back to the Orvis. It had a bit more backbone to it. It could be pushed to throw longer line. But I’d need to spend time and learn to work it. We moved my old Ross reel back and forth on the Orvis and Winston for a more definitive comparison. I apologized to Vinny for taking so much time. “This is the most fun I’ve had with a customer in a while,” he replied. The Lady and Vinny had watched it all. I turned to them. “The Winston. You cast best with the Winston.” They agreed and I agreed with them. It was the one that felt most “at home” in my hands. “I’m so glad you’re getting the Winston!” the Lady came in close for a hug. “We need to check on the breakage warranty the rod comes with.”
We heard from our friends from Fort Sagebrush. Their large cabover camper was loaded on Earl, the diesel Super Duty, and would we like to join them for a few days at North Fork Campground in the Elkhorn’s? Sounded like fun to us. We spent a night at the Fort and started out for the campground the next morning. And this is where everything went sideways like a broken fly rod on an amazing river.
We’ll just say they had truck trouble enroute and returned home. Not a happy story. But they made a day trip the next day in their trusty Ford Ranger and we all did some poking around and exploring of places for possible future trips. It was a very fun time and we appreciate their friendship. Thanks Steve and Diana! And the big critters, Fritz and Ketzel!
Our planned adventure and fishing on Steens Mountain was interrupted by the broken rod. We’d return and see how this new Winston does in the real world. We’d head out early in the morning. Our first need was to find a secluded spot to spend the night. A place with a good dose of character. What we found did very well.
Steens Mountain Loop had just opened from it winter closure. Wildhorse Lake sits in a glacial cirque. It’s a hike down to the lake. Would the lingering steep snow allow entry? We secured a campsite at Jackman Park and drove up to the top to investigate. We could get down to Wildhorse the next morning.
The six small campsites are in aspen. It took work to level the truck and camper.
We’ve stayed here many times and one of our joys is to take evening walks upcountry for the evening high country light.
Owls Claws (Hymenoxys hoopesii) and Shooting Stars (Primula meadia) were the wildflower highlights.
We were back up to the trailhead early the next morning.
The high country slopes down to the massive glacially carved Big Indian Gorge.
Wildhorse Lake is in the cirque to the south.
We’ve done this hike so many times but it is still a delightful trek.
No way, when I got this set of trekking poles, did I realize they matched my boots. Me fashion conscious?
It’s 45 minutes down.
Wildhorse is a put and grow Lahontan Cutthroat Trout fishery. We fish here often enough we’re fairly familiar with the growth rate and what we’re likely to find. This year the cutts are 12 to 14 inches long. Next year they’ll be larger. Wildhorse trout generally don’t have much heft to them.
The Lady loves to fly fish. She climbs to a high spot where she can see cruising trout and directs me to them. This is much more like trout hunting. When a trout is hooked, she brings the net, I slide the trout in, she takes a couple of photos, and the trout is released.
I’ve had most success at Wildhorse fishing nymph patterns. Today I decided to try dries on the surface and give the new Winston a good workout casting.
I believe we stopped at 12 fish landed and released. I’m very pleased with the Winston. Casting is near effortless.
We ended this adventure with the climb out from Wildhorse.
“I’m going to time us. How long to get to the truck?” the Lady stated.
“You always do,” I responded. “Forty minutes. It always takes us forty minutes. And that includes the stop at the trail register. You always have to see if anyone else signed in.”
With the packs and gear back in the truck, we climbed inside the cab. The Lady looked over at me, grinned and said, “I want to go fly fishing!”
We’ll see what we can do.
