I worked my way down a long run toward the tailout swinging a 14' double-hander to punch a riffle hitched Purple Muddler over promising water.  Sweep, load, pop - 80 feet out, then mend to set up a wake across the current seam.  I had been fishing less than an hour and had already landed and released a native hen of around 5 pounds.

As the fly quartered below me, I watched in awe as a fish rose up under it but did not take. Quickly I duplicated the cast but saw no sign of the fish. I tried again, this time making sure to cast upstream far enough to set up a slow and enticing chug-chug of the fly across the lie. Once again the fish refused to return.

I reeled in and snipped off the muddler and replaced it with a Purple Hotpants; a fly of my own design. This fly, inspired by Bob Arnold's Spade, offers an excellent greased line silhouette.

As I tied it on, I spied a jetboat roaring upriver towards me. Hurriedly I stripped line and cast hurriedly before the wake from the passing boat turned the current seam to chop.   Once, twice, three times - I swam the fly over that lie. There was no sign of the fish I had seen earlier. After these casts produced nothing, I reeled in to contemplate my next move.

Having already changed patterns while keeping with the same color, I decided to keep the pattern and change the color. A few minutes later, I cast a Black Hotpants upstream and mended the line to set up the presentation. The fly started its slow broadside swim through the surface film and as it crossed over the lie, a large steelhead porpoised nearly out of the water and exploded down on it!  My heart was thumping as the large arbor spey reel started singing. The line was peeling off fast and the fish was 50 yards into the backing before the initial run was slowed. I was able to gain a little line but it soon went out again in another determined run. The fish finally hunkered down on the lip of the tailout - almost 250' out into the river. As we engaged in a classic battle of give and take, I heard a car stop behind me on the road. (I don't know about you but when I'm struggling to land a big sea-run rainbow with a light tippet, the last thing I want is an audience.)

Little by little the fish tired and started to come in. Finally, after almost 15 minutes, I eased the fish into the shallow water and it rolled onto its side. There before me lay an 11 pound hatchery buck with my fly snug in the corner of his jaw.  I snapped a quick picture, took a measurement and then carefully supported the fish as the water flowed over his gills.  In less than a half-minute, he gave a strong tail flick and left my grasp.   I watched until he had disappeared back into the depths.

Every year as the leaves start to turn and the mornings turn chill, dedicated flyfishers head for the Snake River and its prodigious run of summer steelhead. What starts as a trickle in the summer builds until fish numbering in the thousands pass daily over Lower Granite Dam, the last of the four Snake River dams that create a virtual lake river between the town of Asotin and the Columbia River. Above Asotin, the river once again becomes free flowing; just made for the floating line and the long rod.

First and foremost, the Snake is a big river. From its tiny headwaters in Wyoming, across and up half the length of Idaho, it gathers depth and width until it arrives in Washington State on its way to its junction with the mighty Columbia River. The first time fisher will most likely stare in awe at its width and wonder how one could hope to find a steelhead among its vastness. Fortunately the fish tend to hug the shallows and hold along the current seams. Like many rivers, prime steelhead water runs at a medium pace at 3-6' deep over a cobble-lined bottom. The insides of bends and the waters above or below fast water are also factors that fish appreciate.

Up river from the small Washington town of Asotin, a road follows the river for almost twenty miles and many of the best runs have pull-outs nearby. While the famous Grande Ronde, a tributary of the Snake, sees more fishing pressure the Snake is also a popular destination. While it's still common to see people fishing single-handed rods, every passing year brings more and more double-handed rods on the river. On any given day there will be people fishing seven to ten weight Spey rods, seven and eight weights being the most popular. The steelhead average around seven pounds with the occasional hookup yielding a fish in the low to mid-teens.

When you come to fish the Snake, you do so with a floating line. The rare angler will swing a sinktip but the vast majority choose to skate or wake surface flies using a floater and a 10' to 15' leader. Greased line presentations are also popular. Tippets run from six to ten pounds with eight being the most popular.

A smattering of fish will be in the Snake starting in early August but the bulk of the run traditionally arrives from mid-September through early October. Fishing remains good often until winter snows fly. Given the occasional impacts of dam induced thermal blocks and yearly fluctuations in run timing, it is advisable to confirm the fish are in before heading to the river. Twin River Anglers in Lewiston, Idaho is a good bet for an up to date fishing report or to pick up those last minute flies and accessories.

As mentioned before, during the peak of the migration, thousands of fish cross over Lower Granite Dam daily. Seeing these numbers, it is tempting to believe that the health of the runs is robust. This is both true and false as the onset of fall brings both hatchery and native fish back to the Snake and its tributaries. While recent returns of hatchery fish have been strong, they mask the fact that native numbers are dwindling. One of the primary reasons for this decline is the existence of the dams that dot the Columbia and Snake systems.

As I write this, a huge debate rages over the fate of the four dams on the lower Snake River: Lower Granite, Little Goose, Ice Harbor and Lower Monumental. Groups supporting the breaching of these dams are lining up against opposition groups with strong political and economic interests in keeping the dams intact. The issues are complex and unlikely to be settled anytime soon. However, the future of both our sport and the native steelhead in this drainage may well depend on the outcome of this debate.

It is intoxicating, though, to imagine a river without the dams. Once the river had the opportunity to scour itself, there would be a massive increase in spawning habitat. Given proper management, the native returns would increase and the native fishery improve. I have yet to hear it discussed but it is likely that dam removal would result in hatchery closures as the hatchery programs that now exist are supported by the dams as part of a federal mitigation strategy. While there may be a few lean fishing years, in time the current hatchery based fishery would be replaced with a self-sustaining native fishery.

Remember that right now, sleeping under a hundred feet of "lake" water are hundreds of cobble-lined runs that given the chance to flow freely, would hold native steelhead from August through the first of the year. Here's hoping we all can have the opportunity to cast a line over these in the near future.

- Duggan Harman

The author grew up thirty miles from the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater rivers. He now lives with his wife and son near Seattle, Washington and can often be found roaming the area's many storied steelhead rivers including his adopted home river; the Skykomish.