Ryan Gabert December 9, Clearwater Steelhead - Desperation, Redemption, and Reward. Steelhead are the pinnacle of flyfishing for many anglers - which might explain the near insanity and devotion that goes along with chasing them. We picked the Clearwater because of it's relatively close proximity to us, it's reputation for big B-Run Steelhead, and the success that friends of ours have had there in the past.
We nailed down some dates, ordered a quiver of spey rods, reels big enough that they could be mistaken for a pickup wheel, and enough Skagit and Scandi lines to make you dizzy. Flies were tied madly for months, and before long we had enough Purple Perils, Green Butt Skunks, Street Walkers, and Hobo Speys to fill up a small mountain of fly boxes. We were ready to go catch big, smart, anadromous chrome. How hard could it be, right? The drive over consisted mostly of talk of how large the Steelhead we were going to catch would be, and which fly would outfish the others 10 to 1.
Fifteen hours later, we arrived in our destination - Orofino, Idaho. The school mascots for the little town of Orofino are called the Crazies - which is quite possibly referring to the semi-insane anglers known as steelheaders. First step - go to the fly shop, Poppy's Red Shed. Poppy's shop is quite literally a shed - full to the brim with spey lines, steelhead patterns, and more two handed rods than I have ever seen in a single place. Poppy himself is quite the character - two-foot long beard, a hell of a sense of humor, and more knowledge about sea-run Rainbow Trout than anyone I've personally spoken to.
More or less, he's a certified badass. He gave us a few tips, we picked out a few flies, and we were on our way to Steelhead Valhalla, which was only about a half mile away. There's one quote that stuck out in my mind from Poppy - "There aren't any Steelhead in the Red Shed - Get out there and start swinging.
Threw our waders on, and headed down to the river. I wasn't quite running, but it was pretty damn close. There it was - the perfect swing run. Enough chop to hold steelhead, and about 4 feet deep. All I had to do was get out there and bang out the perfect single spey, and I'd be hooked up in no time, right? I took about four steps into the river, and nearly toppled over. Not the best way to start out a week of Steelheading. The Clearwater is the slipperiest river I have ever waded in. I'm in the water a couple hundred days a year, and I'm a pretty good wader, but this place is a different ballgame.
