Wild Trout Safaris Alaska Trips

Trip # 7 to Oregon was awesome, unfortunately however, unattended for the most part. I'll get to the details of the trip in a moment, for the moment, I will say upfront that Mickey caught 80 and Finn caught 51. Yes, those were one day totals. Furthermore," Butch Cassidy," Bill had 50 in the net by lunch time and Tom "Tonto Rodriguez" Martin finished with more than 100 fish for the day! Just so you know, we started our float at 10am and pulled off the river at 7:30 pm. That's right a 100 fish day, moreover, if I had a vote on the best trips of the year, I would make the John Day River trip the number one trip over all, relegating the Big Horn River to #2 statuses, and Sun Valley trip to #3. Additionally, those ridicules fish numbers aside, I would put the John Day trip at the top of the list not for fish numbers but over all fun, we had a blast!
Here is how it went. The trip started in Caldwell, Idaho not far from Boise, ID. At breakfast at the Best western Caldwell my family met up with two of the four students who made the journey; Tom and Bill. Later, in Spray Oregon, we would connect with Terry, Peter and Pete's wife Lupita completing the group. (Sadly it was the smallest group ever to attend an Extreme Class trip with 4 persons; forever sealing the fate of the John Day as a destination.) We left the Best western with Bill and Tom in tow, we set out to find and research the Owyhee River in Eastern Oregon. The Owyhee is an unknown tail water in an uninhabited region of Oregon. This river is rumored to be a world class trout fishery that is off the beaten path and a secret destination for Boise fly fishermen.
It was a short and lovely drive from Caldwell to the Owyhee thru what is the agricultural part of Idaho. We passed many vineyards and saw a lot of wildlife during the cool morning hours of what was to be a very hot July day. With triple digit temps expected the earlier we arrived the better. We found the Owyhee tucked away in a pretty, yet desert like canyon a few miles west of the boarder in Oregon, which is the mighty Snake River. We arrived in time to find a few shadows of shade still remaining on to the river, casted by the steep canyon walls. Hence, it appeared that we had still a few hours of fishing before the impending heat was to end any hope of catching trout. We followed the canyon road up river and toward the south, stopping at a pullout sufficient to fit two cars. I spied a section of river in the canyon below that appeared to have a few twists and turns scrumptious enough to warrant parking. We rigged and made our way down to the river.
Tom and Bill were quicker into the water with Mickey closely behind them. I was last to get wet and in my haste left my radio back in the car. I got to the river's edge and made a quick cast into a nice swirl just above where I stood not more than a few feet off the bank. I was throwing a Turk's Tarantula; a large dry fly that had proved to work quite well a few days earlier on the Logan River. I made a second cast and watched as the fly was sucked under the water. Yes, sucked. A strike I thought, well, maybe? Even though I was a bit skeptical, if not shocked, I made a quick set with my wrist and suddenly I observed a large yellow flash of what was a very large Brown turning sideways under the water. My rod bent over and my drag began to squeal and sure enough I found myself hooked onto a nice female Brown trout. The fished turned down river and headed into the current. I had a good look at her before she sped off. She was very visible after I set the hook. She too was shocked to find that the morsel on the surface was in fact dubious. The river was a little off color nevertheless I could see that it was a Brown, in fact a hen and more importantly she was Big!
I had forgotten my radio so with a surprised yet slightly smug voice I squawked to the others, "I got one. And then I sang it in a deep falsetto voice, "FIIIIIISSSSSSSH---- OOOOON!" I looked up at my bent rod with great delight; fore I had found the mythical Owyhee River. The sun was shining thru a gap in the canyon, the air was exquisitely cool and best off all-I had on a pig Brown.
I weathered the storm that was the fishes first run, slowly but surely I worked the fish back to within reach of my net. I saw her again; with her amazing golden yellow hues! Wow, with colors so vibrant, could this be a buck? "No," I said to myself, I had seen that she was a hen. Boy was she nice too, real nice, for the first fish of the day she was exceptionally nice.
Now, exactly how big was she? Before I could get her to the entrance of the net she took off into another foray into deeper water. This was a strong fish. I was still feeling a little caviler having hooked this beauty on my second cast as I slowly worked her back into another retrieval attempt, when Mickey cried out from another riffle just down river from me. "What did you get him on?" "A dry," I yelled back as I continued to maneuver the fish closer to my grasp. I grabbed my net and crouched toward the water trying to swallow the fish past the rim of the net deeper into the webbing, when the fish pulled away again swimming off for a third time. I dropped the net and took the rod and line again with both hands allowing the fish to take up the slack in the line. I was still feeling confident that I was, not only going to land this fish, but that this was going to be a great day of dry fly fishing. Only this time, seconds after she moved to the swifter stuff, she ditched the hook. Yes, she was loose!
"DAMN!" I shouted, and then quickly changed my voice to, "damn." "Oh well, I said softly trying to keep that caviler domineer as if it mattered not that I didn't net her, forcing myself to consider the second cast of the day to be rather cool, in truth. Nevertheless, the truth is I was bummed. I could only think, how big was she and I needed a photo. Trying to ease the sting of the close but no cigar scenario I quickly made another cast. Had I lost the second fish or better the third fish of the day that would not have been so painful? But the first fish, well that really sucked! In a true sense, I was still skunked!
I continued to cast into the same spot hoping for another strike, but to no end. "Well, I'm counting him," I said to myself, "close enough in my book." In frustration I deliberately walked across the riffle into which I had been casting maybe to show a bit of distain for, "the one that got away." I moved into that hole and began to work a few runs above but they proved to be fruitless.
I walked down to where the others were fishing and asked Bill how he was doing. He said that he had taken a few. He was nymphing. He was throwing a San Juan Worm and a sow bug and returned one on each. I walked to a lower stretch and continued with the Turks Tarantula until I hung it in a Willow on one of my back casts. With that, I changed to a Yellow Chernobyl Ant, but still nothing. Tom pulled in a nice fish maybe 18" or so on the other side of the hole I was working, on acetate worm (San Juan). Bill was up to four fish by now and was now moving up a few feet higher in the riffle. Still with nothing, I decided to put a nymph dropper under my Yellow Chernobyl. I put on a size 14 Irish Spring and threw it in where Bill had been fishing. Bang! The Chernobyl jumped sideways and I had a little fight with a 13" Brown. The next cast, bang again! Only this time it was a bigger fish that took my Irish Spring. I worked the fish close to me and I had a good look at it. It was a big male Brown maybe, 18" or better.
When it got closer I took out my net and the fish took off like a shot! I must have really spooked it because it pulled my reel drag like it was on the lowest setting. "Man," I said out loud. The fish ran to the middle of the hole and sure enough got me snagged up! "Damn," that's my luck today, two nice fish and now it looks like I lost my second!" I pulled on the line but to no avail, the line was holding steady! It was snagged badly. "Well, do I break it off; I asked Bill and Tom who were standing there watching?" I reeled the line in as close as I could get before the water was to go over my waders. Then I let out the drag and walked back to the bank and let the line go slack. "What should I do," I asked again. Tom said, "Go for it!" I thought how warm the weather really was and how the day was only going to get hotter and that I had nothing on under my waders but quick drying wading shorts. What the heck, I went for it!
I walked out toward the snag reeling in the line as I went. Do you think the fish is still on the line I said to the other two as I got closer to the point where the water rushed in over my waders? It was cold but not unbearable. My wader began to fill. I reeled my line tighter and then I grabbed the stick which had my leader locked in place. I pulled the line loose without breaking it. "Awesome," I declared! And then I felt it, the fish, the fish was still there! The Brown ran down stream feeling again the tension that was put back on him. I raised the tip of the rod and the fight was back on!
I wanted this fish; so I was going to stay focused during this struggle. I wanted to see what these Browns look like also I really needed a photo of a fish from the Owyhee. I worked him close and could see the fly still in his lip; it seemed like a good hook up. The fish was still far from giving in however and took line from me again. This time I raised my rod so not to allow him back into the region of the river where I got snagged. This time the fish stayed in the slack water below the snag spot. The fish stayed out of reach of my net for quite a spell. This was a way strong fish for only an 18 incher. The battle went back and forth, when the fish saw my net away he went. However, I remained patient and in time I worked him close and eventually got my net under him.
I raised the net around him, and OH my hell, it was truly a pig! Far bigger than I had expected, the behemoth would not fit in the net! I balanced the fish on the net until I could work him between the sides; the head and tail barely fit. I had just bought a new net from the shop before leaving on the trip, good thing. It is a deeper net with a measuring scale in inches written on the webbing. The scale tops out at 22" inches. The Brown covered it all. The fish measured just a little over 22", but nice, a real fatty, way wide, full of color with huge spots. Well, I got my Owyhee fish photo. We snapped a few pictures and the released him. Wow, this is a nice river!