So, there I was, 29 years old sitting at Clackacraft, slinging drift boats so fast we could barely keep them in the showroom, when a guide about my age walks in the door.
Surg, DM and Cutter the dog are doing everything they can to hold a big fish in the hole.
There are a lot of times in your life when you have a decision to make. Realistically we make thousands upon thousands of choices based on things we’ve experienced throughout our lives every day. When it comes to fishing, the choices are often more serious. I suppose seriousness is in the eye of the beholder, but I take my winter steelhead fishing pretty seriously and I have big choices to make every day before I hit the water.
What’s the water heights? What river am I going to hit? What section of river? Do I take my raft or my drift boat? What’s the capability of my customers for tomorrow? What technique are we going to fish? What are the road conditions? How early do I need to leave?
Every night before a trip, I weight tons of options and try to make the most educated decision I can. Sometimes I miss and that’s when it pays to be versatile. I like to think I hit a lot more than I miss, which simply comes with time on the water. But, I almost never go into a day on the river with absolutely zero knowledge of what’s going on. Usually I know at least a little about a river system or the guys I’m going with. What the river conditions are or maybe what the boat pressure it like. Not this time. This one was totally a blank slate and on the recommendation of someone I trusted very much. I talked my old room-mate Nick Arnold into checking out some new water with a blind leap.
So, there I was, 29 years old sitting at Clackacraft, slinging drift boats so fast we could barely keep them in the showroom, when a guide about my age walks in the door. I’d never met Mike Kelly before, and I didn’t know anything about him other than he had ordered a new ClackaMax and was picking it up that day. I had it all ready to go and Mike and I introduced ourselves, took care of business, shot the bull a little about fishing, and I got Mike on his way with his boat. Another super excited Clackacraft owner out the door. I had the easiest job in the world. I loved it.
“Pink Worms” are a great option when targeting aggressive steelhead.
Anyway, an hour later I get a call from my buddy Grant Scheele. A well know guide on the central Oregon Coast. Grant said he heard I got Mike a new boat and was excited to get another talented fishermen into a new Clacka. Then he asked if I was going fishing with Mike. I said no, and Grant was surprised.
“Mike said he invited you this weekend, why not go,” Grant asked.
“I don’t know the guy from Adam. I’m not driving three hours to go fish with someone I’m not sure knows steelhead from a hole in the wall,” I replied.
Grant was pretty adamant that I call Mike back and head down there.
“The dude can fish and they’re getting them good. You should go,” Grant explained.
I thought about it a while and figured if Grant said Mike could fish, he must be able to. Obviously, Grant was an excellent judge of character as he was a friend of mine, so I called Mike.
Long story short, Nick and I wake up on couches at Mike’s house the following morning, get our gear together, snagged the dog and pile in the truck with boat in tow, headed for the river.
I had no idea what to expect, but I was a little surprised when we got there to see a line of trucks trying to get their boats in the water. My immediate thought was not good. There’s like 20 boats ahead of us and I didn’t even know what we were doing. We took our time, launched the boat, and got out into the first run. I was shocked to see no one was even leaving the first hole. There were 20 boats in here! There were boats motoring up and fishing down the run like a piscatorial merry-go-round. I had never seen something quite like this, but I did see a few fish caught while we rigged rods and my excitement built.
Despite being a parasite, long tailed sea lice are a dead giveaway that this fish wasn’t out of the ocean very long.
Mike had asked me to bring my own rods set up how I like to fish them. We were going to see how they did on his home water. I’d been hammering them pretty well back on the rivers I fish, so figured we’d see if the technique could travel. I made some small adjustments to my set up to fish a river that was much bigger than the waters back home and off we went.
Barely into the first drift, and I mean almost as soon as Nick’s stop hit his bobber, it drained. For some reason I think we all figured it was snagged until Nick hammered down on it and a nickel bright steelhead came flying out of water. I don’t know if I saw my bobber go under or I just started reeling in because Nick had a fish on and I wanted to get out of the way, but next thing I know I felt the unmistakable jerk. We just doubled in the first 12 feet!
To be totally honest, the rest of the day was pretty much more of the same. We landed brand new, ocean-fresh steelhead about as fast as we could cast from our first pass until we quit. It was crazy fun!
What I hadn’t realized when we slid our boat in that morning and I saw the armada of other boats on the water, a lot of them were friends of Mike. There were at least half a dozen groups of buddies in their boats fishing along with us, equally loving life. We laughed and screwed off around each other all day. We cheered for each other every time one of the buddies landed a nice one and threw our collective hands up in disgust when someone had one throw a hook midair. At one point we even all pulled up on the gravel bar for a quick lunch break and to introduce the guys in the other boats we didn’t already know.
There were of course the bad apples on the river that day too. I’ll never forget one of the old local guides, I won’t bother naming because he needs no help embarrassing himself, started screaming at me from his boat. Not screaming at our boat, screaming at me!
“Get the hell out of here Josiah! Go back to Tillamook!”
Matt Halseth beautifully side drifting and putting himself and his clients in perfect position.
I was having way too much fun to give two shits about what this guy had to say and besides, it’s not like I was out here day in and day out. It was laughable that someone was so upset by the amount of fun being had by our boat and the boats filled with Mike’s friends that we all pretty much made it our mission to be extra nice to him for the rest of the day. There’s nothing much better than being nice to people that hate you. Boy does it fan the flames.
Anyway, we all have an incredible day. The Busch Lights were going well, the steelhead were everywhere and the camaraderie was awesome. It was refreshing and a far cry from what I’d experience in Tillamook my first few years guiding. This is how fishing was supposed to be. We all slowly continued our decent downstream and helped each other get the boats and trailers out of the water just before dark, when I saw something that immediately made the day go from good to crappy in an instant.
When Mike backed down the ramp, his tire was wobbling badly, but the tire was full of air. I knew right away that the bearings must be shot. We all pitched in and got the jack out, got the tire off and saw the bearing was totally destroyed. The cage the rollers came in had shredded, but the rollers were still there.
You’d have thought between the bunch of us, someone would have had another bearing, but none of us did. (Side note, carry an extra bearing for your trailer tires, not just a spare tire. You’re welcome.)
We didn’t really know what to do so Mike called a mechanic friend that lives about 45 minutes away and he showed up with a bearing. Unfortunately, the inside circle of the new bearing was too small for Mike’s spindle so we needed the cage off the new bearing and the bearings themselves and the center ring off the old one. That was when the magic happened.
Thane the mechanic works his magic while the rest of the boys keep track of the Busch Light and cheer him on.
Using a flashlight in a boat ramp in the middle of nowhere, mechanic buddy Thane pushed all the pirated pieces together from the two bearings, but still they didn’t fit. Had I not witnessed it with my two eyes I’d have never believed it. I watched Thane carefully put his makeshift bearing he’d created on a rock, pick up a bigger rock and smash the bearing parts together. They snapped together perfectly first try like a freaking couple of rectangle Legos. Everyone just stared at him totally stupefied as he picked up the Frankenstein bearing off the rock, slid it right on the spindle and slid the tire right back on over it. Of all the dumb luck! To this day I still can’t believe that worked.
A few of the guys were headed the same way we were so we went slow and they stayed close just in case. We limped home later than we thought, but with an incredible story to tell.
I never thought I’d drive hours away from everything I knew to go fish with people I’d barely met the day before and have a day like that. I’ve guided a lot of days and buddy fished a ton since that day and I don’t remember a single time I ever took a chance like that and it went so well. I’ve had a few blind leaps go poorly, but never so well.
SPRING CHINOOK TIPS - JD RICHEY
