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Skykomish Report - Chasing those Early Natives

2132 Views 4 Replies 3 Participants Last post by  Doublespey
Did a dawn to dusk trip down the Sky (from Sultan to Lewis Street). We were hoping that the recent rains would raise the river level a bit, but that wasn't happening. In fact, the river level was falling rapidly and would make fishing very tough.

The day started clear and cold and ended rainy windy and Very Cold! The traditional runs weren't fishing well, as there wasn't enough flow to swing the fly through the productive spots. We fished many small pockets and several stretches more popular with plug pullers in higher water. We talked to a plug pulling boat that had caught their one steelhead. In the whole day's float, we only saw two other boats.

We covered a lot of water, but there just don't seem to be many fish in the Skykomish yet. Too bad . . . both Sinktip and I were hoping for a nice chromer native and the bonus of a dozen of Juro's finest being added to the Wheatley!
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Followed up Brian's and my Friday trip with a Saturday float with my father-in-law. River was up a smidge from Friday's rain but not enough to make a difference. As we fished through Jack Daniels, a driftboat with two long-rodders worked through IRS. One then pulled out and walked up to fish the upper water. A few minutes later he was hooting and hollering and into a fish. The fight was short and the fish won. We managed to go fishless until right before the take-out at Lewis Street where my Father-in-law tied into his first fish ever! Of course all the coaching on "set the hook and then let them run" was forgotten and he pinched the line to the cork and after 3 or so seconds of thrashing the surface, the fish left with the fly. I told him not to worry, I doubted there was anyone out there that had not done something similar. (I think back to the Snake fish that woke me out of a daydream and startled me so bad I broke him off on the hookset.)

May the rain gods be generous!!!
Duggan Harman
aka Sinktip
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Sounds like a classic day of winter steelheading. The blustery weather invigorates the soul and makes creature comforts of home seem that much warmer and nicer... but it doesn't take long before the itch comes back and on goes the neoprene. Every hookup is a gift but they don't come easy. The mind wanders as unruly clouds roll by. The ritual of rhythmic casts and swings is interupted by something a little different which intensifies into the undeniable reality of thunder shaking the rod in the hands and lightning streaking and clapping in the current as the feeble equipment tries to manage the mayhem. With luck the sheer image of nature's potential given glaciers on stone pillars to melt them slowly and several thousands miles of open sea - surrenders it's hold in the icy mystery and comes to the shoreline to burn it's image into our brains and cameras. And there is no weather nor toil that can ever fade that out of our lives.

God, I miss it!
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Sorry for waxing on the theme, I'm like a war veteran who reacts to loud noises (especially in mid-winter).

May all your drifts fill you with the anticipation that the promise of giant native trout provides.

Sounds more like a dreaded case of the Shack Nasties to me.

Spontaneous poetic reminiscing is the first symptom. How long since you've swum a fly? I prescribe a dose of Spring Striper (or possibly Sol Duc Steelhead - I saw that post on the main BB 'bout your April "Microsoft" trip <g>)

Until then - Keep Tying - I haven't given up on Juro's Dozen just yet!

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