One of the best ways to learn and improve on your spey casting, is by watching yourself cast. Note what you’re doing wrong, and try and fix it. Note the good things, and try and repeat them.
Get out on the water and practice as much as possible. Watch others cast who are more seasoned than you.
Be humble. I know I still have so much to learn.
Try and fix your mistakes. Nothing will be perfect, and that’s okay. But, you can never get better if you don’t constantly observe, listen, and put your time in on the water.
As a part of Washington’s Lower Snake River Dams (LSRD) Stakeholder Process, an extensive survey on the public’s perception of retaining or breaching/removing the four dams has been posted.
Every wild steelhead and salmon advocate should take this important opportunity to have their voice heard. Again and again we have seen documentation of the terrible effects these dams have on the salmon and steelhead of the Snake River basin. We are especially aware of these long-term declines this year because the Clearwater River, and portions of the Snake River, were closed to steelhead fishing due to dismal fish returns.
(See Steve Pettit’s grim chart of 2019 steelhead returns at Lower Granite Dam.)
This past October, I kicked off my birthday by flying to Island Park, ID to fish with Karlie Roland at TroutHunter Lodge.
In past years, I’ve fished more times than I can count on the Clearwater, Grande Ronde, Snake, and Salmon rivers in Idaho, but had never once been to the other side of the state to fish. I had even trout-fished the Western side of Montana’s rivers– close to Island Park, but that was as close as I had been. Needless to say, I was stoked to go fish with Karlie, and check out this new part of Idaho!
I had a heads up that the conditions would be much colder than earlier peak times on the Henry’s Fork, but that didn’t stop me from heading out. Plus, it seemed I had somehow lucked out with the one “warm” break in the weather.
Luckily, I arrived before the major snow fall did. Upper 40’s was warm compared to what it had been just the week I got there, and less than a week after I left– talk about timing it right.
TroutHunter had a shuttle service available to transport me from Idaho Falls airport to the lodge, which was about 1.5 hours away.
I arrived at the lodge around 7:30 in the evening and got settled into my cozy room that faced the river, which was conveniently located above the restaurant/bar and the fly shop. Within 30 minutes, I found myself seated at the bar of the restaurant, talking to the local patrons, fly-fishers, and regulars, enjoying a delicious meal and a cold beverage.
If there isn’t a plethora of stickers like this covering the beer tap cooler, is it even a fly-fishing lodge?
The next morning, I met Karlie in the same spot I was seated at the night before to have breakfast and make a plan for the day.
The air was chilly, but the sun was out, and I was just happy to be out trout fishing for the first time in years. I knew the rivers out here were famous for their brown and rainbow trout, and I couldn’t wait to see what we would come up with that day…
Within the first 30 minutes of the float, I was hooked up, and Karlie was netting my first rainbow in the Henry’s Fork river.
SWEET!
I immediately felt satisfied with the trip, as for me, catching one fish meant it was a successful day. I know trout fishing is a lot different than winter steelhead fishing, but my mindset never changes. Every fish I get to feel take hold of any fly I cast out, is exhilarating no matter what.
So, when I had another fish on only a few minutes later, I was over the moon.
Karlie was visibly pleased and Grizz (her trusty black lab) was excitedly wagging his tail, but calmly observed, as I reeled and Karlie netted. He clearly was used to this.
Yeah, I could get used to this too.
While I was casting and stripping line for more grabs, Karlie was working the drift boat like a champ behind the oars. I had another fish on about half way down the float, but because I hooked it right before some rapids, Karlie had to maneuver us carefully through—avoiding boulders and working through the bumpy fast current— as I tried to keep the fish on and fight it until we could reach the calmer area. Unfortunately, the fish came off right before we reached a spot where we could safely net it, but it was a hell of a ride and a fight to remember.
The work that goes into Karlie’s boat handling, is more than notable. She would either have to row against the current to slow down through the certain parts of the run, or even get out of the boat and walk behind it, so she could control the speed more precisely and sometimes even walk the boat back upstream, if the water was juicy enough to have another go at. This woman is a BOSS with her guiding techniques and abilities, and for those who haven’t fished with her before, you need to. At only 27-years-old, you’d think she’s been doing this for longer than she’s been alive– seriously impressive. And, she’s a hoot to hang out with on a river or off.
So, if you’re headed out to Island Park next season, make sure you get a day or two in with her if she’s available. I certainly plan to go back!
Now that it’s December, I’m looking forward to seeing her on THIS side of the country in the coming months, in search of the other kind of trout…
I might be a bit biased– as April is a friend of mine– but before we ever met, when I was just learning how to fly-fish, I followed her blog and social media pages and found inspiration in her words and photos. I owe a lot of why I continue to love fly-fishing and the outdoors to her.
We initially bonded around 9 years ago over cocktails and girl talk to be completely honest. We’ve spent more time together off the water than on it, but she’s just one of those gals I know will be in my life forever, so there will be plenty of opportunities to fish together more in the future.
She works extremely hard, and I respect the hell out of her drive and commitment to everything she does. And, she’s caught some pretty amazing fish over the years.
If you haven’t checked out her podcast yet, and you love to fish, hunt, and/or are an avid outdoorsman (or woman), you need to.
This past October, I was able to get down to Maupin, Oregon to fish with Mia Sheppard for a day.
I’ve never fished in Oregon before, so I was extremely excited to get on some new water, but also fully expected to not catch anything. (For those who don’t fly fish, or– more specifically– those who don’t swing flies for steelhead, this seems like an odd concept I’m sure. Why go if you don’t think you’re going to catch anything? Because, I’m crazy and love fishing for species that aren’t always there. I guess you could say I’m a sucker for a good challenge.)
Anyway, after taking a few years off from pursuing these increasingly rare fish, I was looking forward to just getting out on the river and knocking the dust off my spey rod. I also was pumped to fish with Mia for the first time, as we’ve crossed paths at spey claves before, but haven’t actually fished together yet. So, it was going to be a winning situation no matter what in my mind.
Spey casting is an art in itself, so when you get to do it on a beautiful river with awesome people, the experience is worth every minute– hooking a fish or not.
With all that in mind, I was absolutely floored when on the second run of the morning, I felt that familiar tug at the end of my line, and within seconds my line was running out of my reel– immediately waking me right up from my serene daze.
Photo by Mia Sheppard
Now that I had a fish on, I was sure I was going to lose it. Fighting a wild steelhead is incredibly exhilarating, but scary, because they never make it easy to get them to your hand. I guess I was meant to get lucky that day, because with Mia’s help, we successfully were able to tail and release it– leaving me shaking with happiness and relief.
(Mia’s pup, Eddy, was also there to help if needed)
Photo by Mia Sheppard
Mia’s friend, Sherryl, shared the day trip with me, and we had a blast giving each other a hard time and taking turns being a lap for Eddy on the drift boat between runs.
Sherryl and Eddy
Lisa cheesing and Eddy blue-steeling
I hooked another fish a bit later that day, but it came off after a short fight. As much as I love to be able to see and release these fish, it’s better for them to not be touched.
I was pleasantly surprised with a successful day, but mostly felt happy to be back in the swing of things (pun intended). I was reminded of all the reasons why I love fly-fishing, spey casting, and swinging flies for steelhead. The feeling of elation combined with anxiety that comes with the grab and anticipation that follows, brought me back to the place I missed so much and made me thankful to be back.
A huge thanks to Mia for a fantastic day.
If you ever want to be guided on the Deschutes or John Day, she’s the gal to go with. Booking info
(FYI: For those of you who fly-fish, you know what I am talking about. For those who do not, I apologize, because you probably thought this was going to be a much sexier blog post than it is… Whoever came up with the terms for the techniques mentioned in the title of this post obviously had their mind in a gutter, or maybe it’s just everyone else’s that is… ponder that for a minute or two.)
Alright, on to the business at hand…
I probably come from a more uncommon background than most fly-fishers out there, as I was introduced to fly-fishing before ever touching traditional gear methods, and one of the first species of fish I caught was a wild steelhead on a swung fly. I found myself addicted to fly-fishing for steelhead before having a chance to try anything else. It wasn’t long before I picked up a Spey rod and the addiction immediately turned to Spey casting and searching for wild steelhead year round with two-handers– with the only changes made being the types of lines and flies I would use. Before long, I became more comfortable casting a Spey rod than a single hand rod.
It also wasn’t long before the riverside banter of “swing” versus “nymph” started ringing in my ears. “Oh, they’re nymphing, that’s hardly fly-fishing”; “It’s a lot harder to catch them on the swing”; “You might as well use bait”, etc. etc.. Initially, I could see why the method I was used to could be seen as the more challenging of the two to catch fish, as the set-up with a nymph allows you to get right down to the fish with a weight and bobber, and are able to put the fly in areas where you are unable to by swinging usually. What I wasn’t aware of until last Thursday, is how nymphing has it’s own degree of difficulty and takes a much different type of skill with a fly rod than swinging flies does.
Don’t knock it ’til you try it, right?
Yes, as some of you know, I do have the saying, “Swing flies, Be happy” as a personal motto, but as I discussed in a previous blog post, it doesn’t mean I’m opposed to other methods of fly-fishing, it’s simply a catchy phrase that sums up the type of fishing I fell in love with.
(For those who do not know what “nymphing” means, it basically means using a fly rod to dead-drift a fly (egg pattern or nymph) underneath an indicator/bobber. AK/WA fishing Guide, Andy Simon, and seasoned steelhead fisherman, Michael Davidchik, wrote an informative piece about this technique on Washington Fly-Fishing a couple years ago. http://www.washingtonflyfishing.com/forum/index.php?threads/steelhead-nymphing-strategies.77165/)
Nonetheless, I knew eventually I would have to get out and try it myself. So, a couple weeks ago while I was out on the coast, a new friend of mine (Bozeman based photographer and fishing guide), Brett Seng, offered to take me and another avid steelheader, Annie Kubicka (aka “Big Fish Annie”) out on a raft to drift some flies, as well as swing some runs. I was looking forward to actually seeing the water from a new angle, as this was the first time I would ever float a river– Yes, first time EVER. I have waded and bushwhacked my way through the last 4+ years of fly-fishing for steelhead. (If you wanna know what waders and boots are durable, I am probably a good person to ask.)
So, these two new friends of mine taught me how to “nymph” for the first time, as well as how to “gracefully” climb in and out of a raft. (I quickly learned that both are not easy, as Annie said it best: “climbing in and out of a raft is never graceful”, and nymphing has it’s own set of challenges I found out after losing multiple flies and snagging trees within the first 10 minutes of the float.) I had to brush up quickly on my single-hand casting abilities that are meager- to say the least- and casting an 8 wt with a weight, bobber and fly is about as graceful looking as me awkwardly pulling myself onto the raft like a seal flopping itself onto a barge. I was humbled by the entire experience. The only thing I didn’t get to experience was the fight of a steelhead, but I’m guessing even if there were fish underneath the surface grabbing at the fly, I probably missed any of my chances to set the hook on them, as my reaction time to a bobber dropping had never been exercised before. Thanks to the enthusiastic outbursts that would come periodically from the oars behind me yelling, “GET IT!”, I was able to eventually understand the movement the indicator made signaling the potential of a grab. It certainly is a whole different ball game than what I was used to playing.
No matter what, I’m always a goofball. (Pictured with Brett Seng and Annie Kubicka)
Spey casting and swinging flies has it’s own degree of difficulty, as it isn’t always “cast, swing, step”– it’s sometimes, “cast, mend upstream, swing, walk downstream to get the fly down, and then step”, etc. etc.. Depending on the run’s water speed, depth, and objects to work around underneath the surface, the traditional “cast, swing, step” has to be altered more often than one would think. For the amount of hours I have put in and the amount of time spent learning how to read water on my own or from Andrew and others we fish with, I would say I have done pretty well with the amount of fish I have caught without a guide and without a boat or raft. This has made me appreciate the challenge of swinging flies for steelhead (winter run especially) all that much more every time I get out on the water.
The reason for my desire to write a post about this common argument of one technique versus another, is during the last few times I have been out fishing on my own, I have honestly run into more friendly gear and nymph fishermen than those with spey rods swinging. This is just my observation, and it doesn’t mean EVERY swing/spey fisherman or woman I have come across is less friendly, but it was enough to take note and feel the need to share my feelings. Coming from the perspective of a 31-year-old female out with a spey rod walking the river banks with my dog, I feel like my perception can be taken however you want to, but I will never raise my nose or have preconceived opinions about a gear, bait, or nymph fisher I run into out there, as long as the fish are being respected.
That is really the bottom line, isn’t it?
I find it interesting that I have been “low-holed” more times from other spey fisherman and smiled at and greeted kindly by more gear fisherman…
Go figure.
As “sport” fishermen and women, we all know the catch and release mortality rate is apparent no matter what, so we all need to be educated properly on how to catch and release with the least amount of harm to the fish as possible. Ultimately, whatever method you are using to catch these beautiful wild fish, be sure you are following the rules and respecting each other, so we can continue to be able to do so.
Can’t we all just get along?
I certainly can’t control what others do out on the water we all share, but I can control the way I act and behave towards others.
As some of you know, our wild steelhead populations are continuing to deplete every year. I can’t say I have gone as far as to stop fishing some of my favorite places because of this, but I will say that by being involved in the WSC (www.wildsteelheadcoalition.org) has only furthered my knowledge on this issue, and eventually, I won’t be surprised if I will have to stop fishing for steelhead entirely. That is a sad reality. Please get involved with the coalition if you want to help the efforts to save a species.
Well, not really. It’s still me, but after a bit of a break from fishing and blogging, it feels somewhat like I’m back as “Lisa 2.0”. No longer “Write 2 Fly-Fish”, as a change was necessary for many reasons.
Alas, the blog has been reborn as “PNW Gal On The Fly”.
Look forward to more frequent posts and fishing adventures in the very near future! I have a couple trips to share from last month, and am heading out this weekend, as well.
Thanks for those who have continued to follow the blog all these years, and welcome to the new visitors for stopping by.
Yes, it’s been over 5 years since I have posted on here, and I’m currently trying to decide whether I should revamp the current blog or start a new one entirely… Apparently, I’ve lost the domain to “write2flyfish.com”, so that’s a bummer.
Stay tuned…
( And thanks coming back after a bit of a hiatus on my part!)
YES! I finally got access to my blog, so I can post and make updates again. (This is what I get for not trying to log in for so long, I guess).
Thank you so much everyone for your help and support with my blog and staying interested despite my long absence. I look forward to getting back out on the water again soon and sharing my experiences with you all.
PNW Gal On The Fly 