I didn't want to miss out any longer, so I put on the rain jacket and braved the elements for a chance at some steelhead. Before going, I talked to a number of people and poured over Google maps to figure out my game plan. Unfortunately, when I arrived in the area, I came to the sad conclusion that that game plan was flawed. I've never taken so many wrong turns thanks to Google. They are usually much more accurate than this. Most of the roads that were listed were on private property and completely useless.
Luckily, I stopped at the right gas station that had a knowledgeable fisherman who pointed me towards one of my planned destinations. Just outside of Healdsburg, I got to the stained river and stood knee deep in water. I couldn't see my boot laces, if that gives you any indication of visibility. Despite the muddy water, I did hook up with a few fish throughout the day. Unfortunately, none of them came to hand.
After fishing for about an hour, I decided to walk downstream and try and find those other locations that Google maps so inaccurately supplied me with. Because the water was so high, most of good looking spots were much too deep and swift to stand in. I managed to walk about 2 miles downstream only to find out the best water was where I started.
So back I went. Spent another hour or so carefully stepping and swinging. I hooked my first fish. As you can imagine, I never saw him. At the closest, he was about 20 feet away, then came unbuttoned. If I were to guess by his strength, I would say he was at least 20 inches. Although, that is pretty difficult to know for sure.
I made the long walk back to the car and hopped in. Drove up 101 past Healdsburg to check out my other spots from my satellite survey. Guess what? Couldn't access the river here either. A bunch of non existent roads and private property. Boy, river access is difficult around here.
Went further north to Cloverdale and tried to find some other places to fish. Again, no go!! This was getting frustrating. I decided to cut my losses and drive back to where I started. Fifty miles round trip and even more depressing, more than an hour wasted!
The weather on this day was rain, rain, and more rain. For a bad weather weekday, it was rather crowded. This river must be lined with people on a nice weekend. As someone who likes to get away from others, it may be hard to pull off here.
I tried an array of steelhead flies from size 4 to 8. To keep things simple, I opted to not do any 2 or 3 fly rigs. Feather and hair wings were the most used with a few marabou and bunny strip leeches thrown in for good measure. As far as the river itself and what techniques I used... Without being able to see into the water, I don't know if there were any boulders down there or any sort of cover. Since my sinking tip never hit anything or got snagged, I'm going to assume it was simply river rock and nothing else. With that in mind, I concentrated on the edges of the river where the flow was not as strong.
A bunch of gear guys were planted above me and one or two of them caught fish. They were in slower water and although it would of worked fine with a fly, I didn't want to get into the middle of them. I stayed in the fast section below. Normally I'm okay with this, but considering the lack of boulders in the river, I was somewhat skeptical any steelhead would be holding.
I continued fishing, hoping that I'd get a fish that was passing through. As I was stepping through a run, the river was about 70 feet wide. Casting across almost hitting the opposite bank, the fly and tip would sink after a pullback mend and before it drifted downstream. On the swing, I would start dropping my rod to slow as much as possible. On one of these casts, the fly stopped on the opposite bank just as it started swinging. Since I hadn't snagged all day long, I was immediately hoping it was a fish. I dropped the loop I was holding in my hand as the fish took the slack. At this point I knew someone was there, I set the hook and the fish bolted downstream as my size 4 feather wing must of ruined his day. He had to be pretty good size, line was screaming off my reel as it started crossing river to my side. After reeling in some slack I tried to bring him a little closer as he was in slower water now. He obliged somewhat and I gained about 20 feet on him. It was a blur at the time and is still a blur now, but at some point he took another run. My running line/backing connection point zinged through the guides. This guy was hot and combined with the strong current, he had his way with me. The fish was far downstream and about to go around a corner. This wasn't good. I tried to palm the reel as I was floating downstream in waist to chest deep water. I couldn't make up the distance. So I palmed harder while I scurried for shallower water. My rod was bent over as far as I have ever seen it. Then, before I knew it, the fish disappeared around the corner dragging my line into shore. That was it. Complete slack line. The fish was gone.
That was the most exciting part of my day by far and may be the most exciting moment of the year. And although I didn't catch him or get a glimpse, it was fantastic! I'll be back to this river when it clears.
