The Spey Casting Equation

For the last couple of years, I have been really stressing the importance of visual cues by seeing the components of your cast unfold as you set it up and deliver. From the casters perspective, you can see everything happen and therefore adjust as necessary. There are also things that you hear and feel during a spey cast. I refer to it as the "look, listen, and feel" method, as it relates to sustained anchor casting (double spey/snap-t type casts). See it happen, hear the good and bad sounds, and if it feels good, it probably was. I have heard for years from guys like Mike McCune and Scott O'Donnell to "be a watcher". It is the single most critical thing a spey caster can do. It is also the single most thing that is overlooked and hardest to convince my clients to do. The "look, listen, feel" is in sequence of importance. If you know what to look for, you can successfully self-diagnose and fix and casting problems that arise just by what you see. There are good and bad sounds that reinforce what you see. A blown anchor, for example, can make sounds like "whoosh or crack". You should see and hear it simultaneously.

Your first visual cue is your anchor placement. Your fly should be about a rod length off of your casting side. The end of your floating line is your visual. Once you lift and set your anchor, you should see where it lands every time. For Skagit lines, the connection between the floating portion and sink-tip should be right in front of you at the completion of your anchor stroke. For floating lines, the same rule applies except you may have a versa-leader or regular mono leader connection. It is critical that your anchor placement be accurate and consistent. It is like addressing a golf ball. It has to be in the same part of your stance every time.

Once your anchor is right, initiate your D-Loop Stroke, make your D-Loop and let it rip. But, as your D-Loop forms, you must be able to see how much anchor stick you have left prior to the forward cast. More on that later. Sustained anchor casts start with an anchor and end with an anchor. You need to see it from start to finish. Your anchor is your point of reference. Without it, you are casting blind. I believe that to become a good caster, you must be tuned in to this concept. When I watch people cast, I know as soon as I see the D-Loop and remaining anchor what the result will be. As a caster, you must train yourself to do the same. It is no different than single hand casters watching their back cast. Just as single handers see the back cast straighten out, a spey caster must see the anchor pull straight as the D-Loop comes tight. By seeing a fault, you can make the proper adjustment on the next cast.

This brings up another concept that I came up with: The Casting Equation. Again, this concept relates mostly, but not entirely, to sustained anchor casting. The Casting Equation is: "The height of the D-Loop Stroke + the speed of the D-Loop Stroke = the amount of energy in the D-Loop and the amount of anchor stick left (or remaining) prior to the forward cast."

You have to solve that equation every cast. To do so, you have to be aware by using the "look, listen, feel" approach. You have to figure out how much remaining anchor stick is required to perform a good cast. More so, you have to know how much D-Loop height and speed it takes to relieve the proper amount of anchor prior to the forward cast. How much is it? It varies, really.

Let's back up a little. When you make, for example, a Double Spey, and the anchor stroke is complete, most of the spey line is laying (anchored) on the water in front of you, parallel to the bank and river. As you make your D-Loop Stroke, you are gradually peeling line off the water, gradually relieving anchor. Your goal is to relieve just enough anchor stick so that your forward cast "plucks" your leader off the water. As the D-Loop forms, it does two things: it pulls your line, leader (or sink-tip), and fly straight, inline with your target, and it creates load. If your D-Loop doesn't have enough energy to pull your line straight (inline with your target) you will be left with what Simon calls a Bloody-L. If you have too much speed and energy (or height) your anchor will prematurely break loose (we call it a blown anchor) and all energy will be lost, the result will be a poor, piled cast with ugly sounds. So, figuring out how much speed and height is needed to pull your leader straight, inline with your target so that your forward cast can pluck your fly out of the water is key. This all goes back to the casting equation. Too much height and speed on your D-Stroke relieves too much, too low and slow leaves you with too much anchor and a Bloody-L and no energy. Spey casting is about happy mediums. You have to find it.

So, back to the question, how much anchor stick do I need prior to the forward cast? With sink-tips, you need about 10 feet of sink-tip anchored to "hold the load". It might be 8 or 12, depending of the size of your fly. But, on average, it is 10 feet. This is easily seen because of the color contrast between the floating portion and sink-tip. As your D-loop reaches it's potential and pulls tight, you should be able to see it. For floating lines, on average, your entire leader (12-20') should be your remaining anchor stick. Some experimentation is required to figure out what the optimal anchor is depending on how you are rigged. Once you have figured that out, you have solved the equation. You have to continue to solve it as you fish through a run. This is where your powers of observation come into play. Casting in ankle deep water is different from casting is waist deep water. As you wade deeper, you have to adjust the speed and/or height of your stroke to get the same anchor result because now your 13' rod essentially gets shorter as you wade deeper. As you wade deeper, you are fighting more line stick. Since speed and height regulate how line stick is relieved, speed and/or height must be increased.

Another concept to consider is what I call "anchor range". I coined this phrase while observing a student during a lesson who was casting with too much anchor. As he ramped up the height and speed of his D-Stroke, his anchor relief became greater until he finally blew his anchor. We found his "anchor range". By his powers of observation, he was able to stay within his "anchor range", and narrow his window of range by fine tuning the amount of speed and height of his D-Stroke, effectively solving the casting equation and executing consistently good casts.

Now, this all works as long as the timing is right between the formation of your D-Loop and forward cast. If you pause for a milli-second, your D-Loop will sag, fall to the water, and create line stick. So, make sure that as soon as your D-Loop has reached it's potential, you are initiating your forward cast. This can easily be controlled watching your D-Loop form and simultaneously watching your anchor pull straight and inline with your target prior to your forward cast.

So remember, "look, listen, feel" and solve the casting equation. Use your powers of observation and you will become a better caster. I guarantee it!

The Accidental Steelhead

I caught my first steelhead on the Columbia River just above The Dalles Damn. I know that sounds odd, considering it’s the second largest river in the continental United States. I was bass fishing with my childhood friend, Keith Griswold. The Griswold’s were a huntin’ and fishin’ family. If it swam, ran, or flew, the Griswolds chased them down.

Keith and I fished together a lot. We had a few spinning outfits that we’d equiped to catch bass, trout, or anything that would eat a worm, spinner, or plastic bait. The day we encountered that steelhead we were throwing white plastic jigs for smallmouth. As we landed it, Keith looked at me and said, “It’s a steelhead. We’d better get home quick!” So we bonked it, ran up to the truck, and jammed home. Then he informed me that it was out of season and therefore illegal. Some how that just made it more fun.

Trout season is the hard on the steelheader. Transitioning from winter steelhead to trout season is a difficult adjustment. I get somewhat of a steelhead hangover.  I find myself thinking of ways to steelhead fish for trout. I love streamer fishing for trout and will often do it with a two-handed rod, a skagit line, and a sink-tip. In certain rivers, steelhead are present during the peak of trout season. The Deschutes and McKenzie in Oregon and the Lower Sacramento and Klamath are good examples. There are also rivers in our area that get lake run rainbows and browns. They’re a migratory fish, like the ones that live in Lake Shasta that run up the Pit, McCleod, and Upper Sacramento.  That almost counts. It somehow does in the Great Lakes. The point is, for the steelheader who needs that fix, there are ways to get it, easier ways than the “steelhead while bass fishing approach”.

First of all, select a river that has migratory fish.  The Pit, having countless damns and reservoirs, offers a number of opportunities. I have had success fishing the Pit above certain “lakes” using steelhead streamer tactics.  The Upper Sac above Lake Shasta is a player. I floated the Upper Sac a few years ago with some buddies. They suggested I set up a nymph rig to fish from the boat. Instead I rigged a 10ft 7wt with a Teeny 200 and stripped 4 inch bunny leeches from the back of the raft. They were fighting me for the rod by lunch. We hooked several large rainbows that appeared to come out of the lake recently.

Trout that live in lakes migrate up rivers for different reasons. The two main reasons are spawning and seeking out cooler water. Figuring out when that occurs is key. We know that rainbows, steelhead included, spawn in the spring. Sometime between late winter and early summer, depending on the river and its water conditions. We know that brown trout spawn in the fall. Anglers target browns on the McCloud at that time. Of course that’s actually during steelhead season, so it’s almost a mute point. Also, as lakes warm up, trout will migrate up inlets seeking out cooler water. The Williamson in Oregon is a classic example. Williamson fish leave the warm shallows of Klamath Lake seeking the spring fed waters of the Williamson and it’s tributaries. Of course timing is everything. Because there are a number of factors that influence fish to move, figuring out when and where is key and may take time. 

Next, use the proper equipment. When targeting migratory trout, sea-run or lake run, you have to be prepared for them. Most migratory fish are more aggressive meat eaters than their resident brothers. The fish we hooked that day on the Upper Sac ate large brown bunny leaches tied to a short heavy leader and sinking line. Trout that spend a lot of time in a lake are used to eating baitfish, leeches and crayfish. So, your streamer box and some 8lb Maxima are all you need. For a rod, a 6wt single hander, a light spey, or switch rod will work great. There are a number of light two-handers available today in 4 and 5wt. Depending on the water type, you may want a versa-tip line, a shooting head or clear intermediate. That’s it. Pick a fly and fish it. Within reason, it doesn’t matter. Close your eyes, reach into your streamer box, and grab one. As one of my guide friends said, “they know what to do with it”.

As far as fishing tactics, in steelhead type water, a traditional down and across swing can be effective. An extra mend or two or twitch while it’s swinging can entice a strike. Fishing a retrieve is necessary in slower water or from a boat. Like steelhead fishing, when you get grabbed, let them take it. If you strike, most likely you’ll pull it out of their mouth or break them off. Wait for the weight, they say, than lift the rod. Also, cover water. They‘ve got to be there, and they’ve got to be in the mood. When streamer fishing, we are targeting aggressive fish. If they want it, they’ll eat it. They can see your fly coming from a mile away. You’ll have more success covering water than camping out in one spot.

Last, you need to look like a steelheader. This is important. You want to look tough, utilitarian, confident, and somewhat carefree, all at once. Here’s what you do. Don’t wear your pink Tarpon Wear shirt. A concert shirt, a hoody, or western shirt is best. I learned that from Griswold. Leave your vest in the truck. Just take one fly box, a spool of tippet and your scissor/forceps and shove them down the front of your waders. I am always impressed at the sheer weight of the vests guys bring. Is the area we are fishing so remote that you need enough equipment to set up a spike camp and open a fly shop? Less is more. Definitely leave the trout net. We are targeting big fish here, Lee. (I blame Lee Perkins for any Barney-like habits or behavior including but not limited to the automatic upstream mend, the overstuffed fishing vest and undersized trout net. I can only assume these habits were taught in some Orvis trout school in the mid 80’s.) Also, leave the Indiana Jones hat in the truck. You should have retired it with The Last Crusade. Try a trucker style hat. They offer great ventilation and accommodate a large head. If you really want to look hard-core, you’ll need some kind of tobacco product on hand. Cigars are pretty cool. The short, conical shaped ones (Backwood’s brand) are perfect. They make you look sophisticated yet rugged, kind of like Clint Eastwood. Or try a dip. A big chew in your bottom lip says, “don’t mess with me I’m fishing”. That works for some. The Marboro man look is also an option.  Chain-smoking cigarettes won’t impress your wife but the bait guys might accept you as their friend. Often they know where the fish are.

So, as we begin trout season, remember, there are ways to get your steelhead fix. You can target migratory rainbows in our local waters using steelhead tactics. Or, while trout fishing on rivers like the Lower Sacramento or Klamath, you might actually encounter the accidental steelhead.

 

 

 

 

Pink is the new Black

It is no secret to steelheaders around the west that black is the color of choice when it comes to swinging flies. Joe Howell of the Blue Heron Fly Shop on the North Umpqua once said “use any color as long as it is black”. The fly that has caught most steelhead is probably the Green Butt Skunk, which is predominantly black. The black egg-sucking leech is a close second. While steelhead are caught on a variety of colors, black seems to be the most popular and effective across the board.

I had always associated darker colors like black and purple for inland fishing and brighter colors like pink and orange for targeting fish closer to the ocean. It would stand to reason that steelhead just out of salt would key on colors and patterns resembling ocean food such as prawns and shrimp and as they moved upriver their preferences would change as they adapted to the freshwater environment. I have certainly tested that theory over the years, with mixed results, and recently found that I couldn’t be more wrong. I have been fishing the Upper Rogue since July and have caught more fish on pink than any color. For now, at least, pink is the new black.

I have had the pleasure of fishing with and meeting some of my generation’s best steelhead anglers and guides. Ten years ago Ken Morrish encouraged me to move to Southern Oregon to pursue steelhead guiding.  Ken thought it would be in my best interest to spend a day with a good steelhead guide and get up to speed. My steelhead experience had been limited to nymphing various Oregon rivers. He arranged a day of guided fishing for me and my great friend Chris Lyda. Our guide was Mike McCune. Mike guides the great winter steelhead rivers on Oregon’s north coast. Mike is known as one of the Northwest’s top spey casters and instructors. In just one day with Mike, I learned enough to last a lifetime. It is no mistake that my style of casting and teaching is similar to his. He is certainly one of my mentors and hold him in high regard. We have become friends over the years and usually run into each other at the Sandy River Spey Clave.

He invited me to camp he and his buddies on the Clackamas one year during the Sandy Clave. While everyone else camps at Oxbow Park on the Sandy, this crew prefers the blue collar essence of the Clackamas. Oxbow also frowns upon beer guzzling and dereliction. And besides, the previous year there were some spring Chinook caught on flies.  I fished with Mike and his best friend Scott O’Donnell. It was mid May and we were really trying to catch an early summer steelhead. The river was fairly low and clear. We ran around in O’Donnell’s jet boat looking for fish. You couldn’t be in the company of two better steelhead fisherman. These guys have logged more time on the water than most would ever dream of. It was a memorable day for a couple of reasons. As we were heading upriver to meet up with Ed Ward and Chris Anderson, Scott decided to explore a side channel. Scott is an excellent boat driver and I wasn’t concerned until we got to the top of the side channel where it met the main river. Scott had demonstrated earlier that day how shallow his boat would run due to the tunnel hull design. It was obvious, by the number of repaired holes in the bottom, that he tested that theory a number of times. There was enough water to make it through the channel but the huge tree protruding from the bank that made it impossible to navigate, I thought. Scott slowed down briefly, looked at Mike for assurance, than Mike gave him the nod, and told me to hold on to the rods. I was nervous. This is a bad idea, I thought. The only way through required blasting up through two inches of water over some pretty big rocks.  We did just that. Scott put the hammer down and we banged our way through the sketchiest piece of water I have ever been in a jet boat. We made it, barely. When we got to the top they acted as if that was standard procedure. I was as impressed as much as I was scared. They just laughed.

We went skunk that day. Not a scratch. We ran into Ed and Chris at the boat ramp.   They got in early and were able to fish for a couple of hours.  That was just enough time for Ed to work some magic. The “Wizard”, as they call him, was holding a hatchery fish he kept for the barbecue. We just shook our heads. They didn’t seem all too surprised. He is Ed Ward. “What fly did you get him on?” someone asked. “Pink”, responded Ed. That was all he said.

Pink. Summer steelhead aren’t supposed to like pink. That is a coastal color, a winter steelhead color, I thought. Maybe I had it all wrong. Those are the colors I fish on the coast: pink, orange, and combinations thereof. Was that a fluke or have I been missing something? I would soon find out.

Later that fall my friend Gino and I were fishing the Upper Rogue on a day off.  I remembered that day the pink leech performed for Ed and I tied one on. It was an early version of the Dirk Wiggler. It was all pink with lots of flash, about four inches long. I followed Gino through the first run. He was fishing an egg-sucking leech.  It wasn’t long before I was hooked up. I landed my first inland summer steelhead on pink. As Gino helped my tail the little wild hen, he was surprised at what he saw, a pink wiggler hanging out of it’s mouth. I picked his pocket with pink again that day. But, to his credit, he evened the score by sundown, on black.

That was three years ago. Since then, I have had mixed results, until this summer. Up until early October, I had a run of ten fish in a row on pink. One day we hooked four, all on pink. Throughout the day I would mix in other colors like black, purple, olive, and blue. On many occasions, when I switched back to pink, we hooked up. It just worked. The more it worked, the more I believed in it. Did the fish really prefer it, or did it work because that’s what we were using? If that was the case, then why didn’t the standard colors work? Success certainly breeds confidence. Is that the formula to steelhead fishing? Fish with confidence, regardless of the fly, is that the answer? Or were they actually keying on pink? 

There are more mysteries than absolutes with steelhead. That is no secret. Why one fly works better than others is unknown. I guess that is one reason we fish for steelhead. You just never know what each day is going to bring. It is easy, as a steelhead fisherman, to outsmart ourselves and try to make sense of it. What I do know is that when something works, I will keep trying it until it doesn’t work anymore. Until then, I will keep tying on that pink wiggler, and confidently say that pink is the new black.

The Switch Rod: Tool or Trend?

 

I have to admit. I am not a huge fan of switch rods. I just think at times they are overkill. Do you really need an eleven foot two handed rod to fish a bobber and nymphs from a drift boat? Maybe. In some cases, they just are not enough rod for most spey casting. They seem to fall in the ‘tweener zone in the middle of an already vast assortment of available rods. So for sake of fairness, I put my personal feelings aside and did a little research. I consulted with some experts in the field who were happy to give their opinion. I wanted to dispel some of the myths and clear up confusion looming over these trendy little two handed rods. I hope to, objectively, answer the question: tool or trend?

I asked Simon Gawesworth of Rio Products that very question. He responded, “There is no doubt that they are a tool, not a trend. I use them a lot, and am the least trendy orientated person out there!”

Also, because of their popularity, this topic needs addressing. It seems everybody wants one, think they need one, are curious about them, but in general, really aren’t sure what to do with them. I get numerous emails and phone calls from clients regularly asking my opinion. Should I get one, and which one, they ask.

Here is an actual email from one of my clients:

Jon,

I have not made my decision and must admit I am struggling a bit; I am wanting to dip my toes in the ~Spey/Switch world but would like to in the most universal/generic way possible (code for I don’t want 5+ rods for what I fish).

1.       Can I drift with an 11-footer (i.e. can I use it for high-sticking from a boat and walk/wade; I assume this is “No” for traditional Spey)?

2.       Does a Switch have enough backbone to take to the coast/estuary?

3.       Would a 7wt. be a better call?

4.       Just to confirm, I assume I will need to bulk-up my reel to an 8, 9 or even 10 to balance the length…

Thanks,

Joe Steelheader

Here was my response:

Joe Steelheader,

The six wt is a little light for coastal/winter steelhead. A seven would be better. The problem with getting a switch rod is that it isn't very good at anything. You would be better off with a 10' six for high sticking and a longer spey for actual spey casting. You can still do spey type casts with a single hand rod and it is lighter and easier to fish. That said, you are stronger than the average fisherman and a switch in your hands is like a regular single hander in most others. A seven is better for steelhead, but too heavy for trout. See the dilemma? With a switch, you don't need a big reel like a regular spey. An 8 wt reel should be plenty big to balance out a switch rod. If you already have a good six wt single, you are set. Most switch rods people bring to the coastal rivers stay in their cases and we use the regular speys.

Regards,

Jon

What is a switch rod

Understanding the origin of switch rods are is key here.  R.B. Meiser, who started developing and building the switch rod twenty-five years ago gets credit for coining the term “switch rod”.  He, Bob Quigley, and Paul Miller were fishing the lower Rogue for steelhead in the Agness area. Meiser was fishing a ten foot rod fashioned with an extended lower grip. He used water born, spey type casts with his new prototype. As they rotated through the run, one of them noticed the unique lower grip. “Hey” one asked, “Let me see that thing. How about we switch rods?” As they continue fishing, they all tried the new stick. At the end of that session, one of them asked, “ What do you call that thing, Bob?”  “ I don’t know”, says Meiser.  One of them replied “We keep switching rods. How about a switch rod?” According to Meiser, that was the first time the term “switch rod” was referenced. It was not because they were using the rod for different techniques, but they were just taking turns using what is now called, a switch rod.

As the word slowly got out about these new sticks, it caught the attention of east coast striper fisherman. Meiser’s first switch rods were shipped across the country and used with two hands overhead from the surf and jetty’s. They slowly gained a cult following among steelhead fisherman around the west. Other rod manufacturers took notice and introduced their own lines of switch rods. One of the first to do this was Sage. While Meiser gets credit for inventing the switch rod, Sage’s Z-Axis series certainly popularized them in the mainstream and took the market by storm. Others followed suit. Now every major rod manufacturer has switch rods in their line-up. Most switch rods average eleven feet in length and are available from line weights from five to nine.

So what is a switch rod? In my opinion, the definition is still evolving. I asked George Cook of Sage Fly Rods, and his definition is this, “ Is it both a spey and single hand rod? Yes. Is it a wicked overhead, swung fly and nymph rod? All the above. Is it the ideal first spey rod? Absolutely not. Is it a way to bridge the gap between single hand and spey, a get your feet wet approach? To some degree. Is there a lot of confusion about switch rods? Massive.”

According to Meiser, “ They are often misinterpreted. There is a lot of confusion about what switch rods really are. There are only two kinds of fly rods, single hand and two-hand. Switch rods should be defined as short two handed rods, period.” 

Opinions certainly vary on the topic. Gary Anderson, of Anderson Custom Rods, says ”Everyone buys them for different reasons. Many want to wet their feet in the two-handed rod world. This is the worst reason to buy one. They certainly shine for certain situations, like low water, small river fishing or out of a boat as bobber rods.”

What are they really good at?

Most agree that they niche’ rods used for very specific scenarios and techniques. In the right hands, traditional swing, nymphing, surf or beach casting, float tubing, and streamer fishing in both salt and fresh water, are all uses for them. Today, we see switch rods frequently in drift boats as indicator rods. Swinging flies on small rivers is a great use for them. Beach casting for migrating salmon and coastal cutthroat is a getting popular in areas like Puget Sound. Float tubers have discovered that switch rods have their place on the lake. These are all great uses for these sticks.

For steelhead fishing, switch rods can certainly make life easier. The two most popular methods for steelhead fishing are indicator nymphing and traditional swing fishing. “Swymphing”, a hybrid nymph/swing technique is also becoming more popular. It is best described as a non-indicator tight line nymphing technique.

The typical nymphing set-up involves a ten foot leader, indicator and two flies. This rig is paired with a floating line. Traditionally, a ten foot six to eight weight rod is standard. Switch rods, averaging eleven feet, are replacing single hand rods for this job. From a boat, this is a deadly combination on small rivers like the Trinity.  For the most part, they are overkill. But, when the leader length starts eclipsing the length of the rod, casting becomes more of a challenge. This is where it is a real advantage having the extra length of a switch rod. More length means more lifting power and leverage. Pulling a long leader, heavy split shot and flies out of the water prior to the cast is much easier with a switch rod. When wading against a bank, that extra length gives the angler a distinct advantage. The angler has to remember to use two hands in this case. If not, the extra weight of the switch rod will take its toll by the end of the day.

For swinging small rivers and creeks, switch rods also perform well. An average length spey rod, say thirteen feet, is too much rod on the Upper Trinity, for example. Spey casters tend to over-cast on smaller water. Paired with a short Skagit or Scandinavian line, switch rods are deadly weapons for short-range spey casting.

Swymphing, a technique gaining in popularity, is typically done while wading. A floating line, longer than average leader, and multiple nymphs are standard rigs. Switch rods are ideal for this method. Usually spey type casts are used to set up drifts. Will we see a “Swymph Rod” on the market some day?

The problem with switch rods

Most agree that switch rods are not good tools for learning spey type casting. There is a misconception that a switch rod can transition anglers from single hand to spey. This couldn’t be more false. It is like saying that pot is a gateway drug. It’s not. It is backward. If you are interested in learning to spey cast, get a real spey rod. Learning to spey cast with a thirteen foot spey rod is much easier than with an eleven foot switch rod. Why? They are easier because longer rods have more leverage and therefore are more forgiving. Shorter two-handed rods require a more compact, precise stroke with better timing. This is only achieved with practice; time on the water. One problem Anderson sees with beginners and switch rods is the notion “I can barely cast a switch rod, how can I possibly cast a real spey rod?” Suggesting a beginning spey caster should start with a switch rod most likely will be more discouraging and frustrating than productive. That angler is less likely to move on to a traditional length spey rod.

For most indicator fishing, a switch rod is overkill, especially from an elevated platform like a drift boat. More length means more weight. At the end of the day, fatigue will play a factor.

Also, they are niche’ rods that perform very specific tasks. They can certainly perform a wide range of tasks, but you need right lines to do so. There are very few lines designed just for switch rods. The problem here is that not all switch rods are created equal. There is no AFTMA standard for switch rods currently. According to Meiser, about half of the rod companies producing switch rods are using single hand standards and the rest are using two-hand rod standards for line weights. Remember, he says, ” Switch rods should be defined as short two handed rods, period.” If this is true, than why are rod companies using single hand standards for switch rods? The number seven on a two-handed rod means something far different from that on a single hand rod. It requires far more grain weight to properly load a two handed rod of an equal line designation. While opinions vary on this, the fact is, finding lines for switch rods requires more trial and error than necessary. Anderson says, “If line companies put the grain weights on lines it would help.” Anderson also sends the appropriate spey line with each rod.  I asked Simon Gawesworth if we will see more switch rod specific lines in the future. He says, “I have no doubt there will be more and more switch rod specific lines. It is only the natural evolution of this branch of the sport. Bring it on!!”

Also, if it is your intent to use a switch rod for various tasks, you will need multiple lines. Spey lines, indicator lines, lake lines, and salt-water lines are all very different. Be prepared to purchase extra lines and spools in order to accommodate the full spectrum of switch rod opportunities. Consult your local professionals before buying a line off the shelf.

Speak the language

In the modern spey world, we speak in terms of “grain windows” and “grain weight”. Grain weight refers to the head weight of the line. A grain window is the working range of grain weight necessary to load the rod. That working range is subjective in itself, determined by casting style and load preference.  AFTMA standards for two-handed rods are different than single hand rods. Switch rods standards are supposed to fall under the requirements of two-handed rods, not single hand, Meiser believes. If only half of the rod manufacturers are designing switch rods under two-hand standards and line designation, how do we know what we are getting? Am I getting a seven weight single hand or a seven weight spey? One solution, which Meiser has done for years, is to put the grain windows on each rod. A few other rod manufacturers now also do this. It gives the consumer a point of reference. It also helps those new to the concept learn to “speak the language” of grain weight and grain windows. Most, if not all, spey line makers have moved in this direction. I suspect single hand lines will follow suit.

Closing Argument

I believe switch rods will continue to have their place in steelhead fishing. Rod and line manufacturers will answer the call, fulfill our need for clarity and simplification, and offer more in switch rod line selection. As consumers and anglers, part of the fun of fly fishing are new challenges, new approaches to fishing. Switch rods certainly offer this, not just as a trend, but as viable tools in our pursuit of the majestic steelhead.

Pros

Long leader nymphing

Small river swinging

Versatility

Cons

Difficult for learning spey casts

Heavier than single-hand rods

Line matching more challenging

The Modern Steelheaders: Elitist Spey Fisherman and Bobber Barneys

There seems to be some division among steelheaders nowadays. On one side, you have the traditional swing fisherman, and on the other, the nymph fisherman. Regardless of which camp you are in, you have to recognize the rivalry that has formed. The whole thing is really quite amusing, really, and in many ways, unnecessary. The bottom line is, we are all steelheaders, in pursuit of the greatest fish on the planet, regardless of technique.

A friend of mine recently wrote a piece on swing fishing one of our local steelhead rivers. He described a perfect day interrupted by some drift boat nymph fisherman. He felt invaded and offended by the driftboaters for their lack of etiquette. He may have implied that the technique was somehow related to it's offense. Needless to say, the author started a fight between the elitist spey fisherman and the bobber barneys. The “elitists” congratulated him on his efforts and the “barneys” sent him hate mail. Everyone has since kissed and made up. We all laugh about it now. But, the rivaly still lives on.

In my experience, this kind of river interaction is somewhat common.  It easily could have been avoided. A little river etiquette goes along way. Here’s how it relates to steelhead.

Steelhead Etiquette

Rule # 1

Steelhead etiquette states that you never drop in below someone in a run, period. This is an old rule that everyone should know. If you are not sure where one run ends and the next one begins, make your best guess, or even better, ask. “Hey man, do you mind if I start fishing down here?” It’s that simple. Communicate with your fellow steelheaders. Let them know that you are aware and that you care. If you don’t, one can only assume. That usually doesn’t turn out too well.

Rule # 2

When approaching bank fisherman, go out of your way to get around them. Sometimes you can row behind them. If that doesn’t work, go down the opposite bank. If you are not sure, ask. Most fisherman won’t care either way, but really appreciate the consideration. Sometimes it is impossible not to run over their water. A quick “Sorry!” is a nice gesture as you blast by.

Rule # 3

Pick up your lines before you get to wade fisherman. It is the responsibility of the oarsman to say “bring them in, boys”. Sometimes the bank anglers will insist that you fish through. But never assume that it is OK. On really busy days, when it is hard to find water that isn’t being fished, this is very difficult. The etiquette might shift towards more sharing of the river. But, keep in mind that on busy days people tend to get a little grumpier, too. Being a little extra friendly and polite is much more effective than avoiding the issue.

Rule # 4

If there is a truck parked in the pull-out, go to the next one. On rivers like the N. Umpqua or Trinity, there’s a ton of road access. Proper etiquette on the North is to find your own spot, not one already occupied. If it’s your favorite run, either come back later or get up earlier!

Rule # 5

Keep moving. The bottom line is, camping out all day on a run is lame. It’s lame because no one else gets a chance, the fish get abused, and it speaks to the anglers lack of angling ability, creativity, diversity and ethic. Take your turn, hook your fish, and move on. 

So, could this conflict between the elitist spey fisherman and bobber barneys have been avoided. The answer is obvious. A little politeness and etiquette would have prevented that kind of interaction. Unfortunately, these types of encounters are common on the river. It really comes down to being aware of your fellow angler and showing a little courtesy. Who really cares what technique they are using? I certainly do not. There are some rivers, like my home waters of the Rogue, where the bait fisherman show better etiquette than the fly-fisherman. It is infuriating when a boat drops in on you and drops their anchor within 30 feet. So, how do you deal with it without getting in a fight? I wish I had a good answer. It is something that, unfortunately, will never go away. All you can do is educate them, one at a time. I just hope I can follow my own advice.

One of the biggest problems is how people get introduced to steelhead fishing. If you are introduced via the indicator, as I was, your perspective is different than those introduced via the traditional method. In Northern California and Southern Oregon, I’ll bet nine out of ten new steelheaders are taught from a boat with bobber rigs. I would also bet that eight of those nine anglers have never heard of a Silver Hilton, a Waller Waker, or a grease line presentation. Consequently, traditional steelhead anglers are on the receiving end of most conflict, quite simple because they are the minority, causing this rift between the “elitist” camp and the “barney” camp. Does this let traditional anglers off the hook? No. They are sometimes guilty of having a superiority complex and disregarding the angling experience of the indicator fisherman. It takes just as much skill to be a good indicator fisherman as it does to be a good swing fisherman. But, you could argue that it does take more awareness and etiquette, given the fact there is usually a boat involved while fishing. 

New Year's Resolutions for the Steelhead Fly Fisherman (Originally written and printed for California Fly Fisher Magazine, 2009)

 

2009 was a great year for steelhead fisherman around the west. There seemed to be plenty of fish locally, regionally, and beyond. We had some epic moments on the river this year. I have written about some of them. I stayed very busy and saw many of my clients and friends grow and evolve as steelheaders. I hope I did as well.  

But, there is always room for improvement. In 2009, many of you may have heard things like: “Bob, at some point, common sense must prevail”, or  “Jim, help me help you”,  “Take control of yourself!” or simply “really?”  As steelhead guides, we see a lot of things happen on the river, some good, some bad, some entertaining and at times frightening.  I certainly have my idiot moments, as many can attest to. There are certain behaviors that lead to success, some that don’t. Good habits or bad, they don’t go unnoticed. As guides, we compare notes at the end of our workdays. We tend to experience similar challenges on the river throughout a season. We try not to get too worked up about these things because when it’s all said and done, it’s just fishing. It’s not a competition or have national security implications, it is about being on the river. But there are ways to make the whole experience more enjoyable for everyone.  So I am offering some suggestions for those of you who might need a Steelheader’s New Year Resolution.  You are not limited to just one! Here we go.

Is there a problem?

In 2010, I, Joe Steelheader:

Will “Comply”!

I was guiding with a friend a few years ago who exclaimed “Comply!” He was trying to get his angler to steer fish away from the anchor rope.  It was a very large fish and the angler was not in control. He had tried in every way to communicate this to his angler but couldn’t.  In the heat of the moment, he yelled “Comply!” We laugh about it now, as do the guys in that group. He did comply, and that fish made it in the net. The point is, take good advice when offered, and go fishing more often. Being a better steelhead fisherman comes with time on the water and utilizing your resources. Take a class from your local shop.  Keep yourself in the game. It’s all about getting on the water. For this, you must comply!

Will not cast to the same snag twice in a row

This could drive me crazier than any of them. It amazes me how many times this happens in a day. This one is mind boggling. This is my biggest nightmare of them all. What part of the brain tells us to repeat the same tragic event twice in a row? There is retard, and there is full retard. This is full retard. Move down five or ten feet, please.  Losing two flies on two casts is not caused by bad luck.  It is caused by a bad decision. You can do this.

 

Will practice

Golfers go to the driving range to improve their game. Why don’t more fly fisherman practice casting? Time may be an issue. I can relate to that. Some famous casting instructor said that practicing and improving your casting makes your fishing more fun and productive. I think this is true. We, especially with spey casting because it is so new to most, easily get distracted by the technical aspects of casting and loose sight of the fishing part of the experience. Even if you got out one day a month, that would help. I fish with a number of guys who struggle with the same casting problems year after year. By the end of the trip, we have made some progress. By the next year, all that progress is lost and we have to start over. Go practice and hire an instructor for a session or two, and I guarantee your valuable fishing time will be more enjoyable.

Will move quickly through the run

We are all guilty of camping at times. Some are worse than others. Think of every new cast as a new experience, another opportunity to catch a steelhead. In the big scheme of things, a second cast in the same spot is a waste of time, unless: you just got grabbed, you blew the cast, or you only have time to fish one run that day. If you are spending the whole day on the river, keep moving. Remember, they’ve got to be there, and they’ve got to be in the mood. There is not enough time in a day to waste on milking a run. River time goes very fast so make the best of it.  Also, if you are fishing with someone else, it is your responsibility to move quickly if you are the first guy through the run. If you are fishing with me, I won’t put you out in front unless I know you’ll move at a good pace. 

Will leave my cell phone in the truck (or at least a dry bag)

Do you really need your I Phone in your pocket while teetering on slippery rocks in the middle of the Rogue River? The answer is no. I set a record that will most likely never be broken. I saw three cell phones go down in one day. Yes, three. I was guiding three guys this year that thought it was more important to be connected to the internet than connected to a steelhead.  After the first two guys lost their phones, I would have thought that was it. Nope. I noticed angler number three had his Blue tooth in his ear and was chatting away about some business deal. When he ended the call, he attempted to put it back in his pocket. He missed. It went straight down into the river. He recovered his phone only because it lit up with an incoming call from the bottom of the Rogue. Now that’s good reception! I have never laughed so hard in my life. 

Will be prepared

Bring studded boots, warm layers, a fishing license, etc. If you are a steelhead fisherman, there are basic equipment requirements you need to meet in order to survive the day. Buy some studded boots please. Don’t tell me that most guides don’t allow studded boots in their boats. That is not true. I know a lot of steelhead guides and not one of them prohibits studs in their boats. Spend a hundred dollars and make it happen. Or throw some sheet metal screws into your boots. That will work. It is critical that you can navigate the river, with your feet. Also, please don’t wear Levi’s and gym socks under your waders in November. It’s 2010, we have better options. Fleece and polypro has been around for over 20 years. You’d be better off wet wading in your wife’s yoga pants.

 

Will not yank, set, or pull when I get grabbed

I am referring to the traditional swing. By all means, if you are an indicator fisherman, set! That is why you have that bobber on your line! When the bobber goes down, you go up.  But we are talking about swinging here. Last week I was down on the Trinity River during the longest cold snap in recent history. Needless to say, the fish weren’t very willing to come out of their cozy little sleeping bags to eat an artificial fly. Our opportunities were limited to the warmest part of the day when the fish were most active.

We only got two grabs one particular day. The first grab resulted in a break-off. The angler set hard on the fish and broke off my fly on 12lb Maxima. It should have resulted in a fish. Instead, I replaced the premium fly he lost with a B-team fly until he could prove otherwise. Unfortunately that was his only encounter of the day.  I was reading Dec Hogan’s new book recently and his best piece of advice was this: “ I have never waited too long to lift the rod on a fish” that grabs.

I was fishing with a new spey fisherman recently who had cured himself of the set. He got grabbed, the fish was on, the line was tight, the fish jumped and he still hadn’t lifted the rod. I said, “Hey Scott, is that your fish that just jumped?” He replied with a grin, “ I just wanted you to see that I wasn’t going to set on it.” He didn’t do anything for about fifteen seconds and still hooked the fish.  Sometimes the fish will grab once, twice, or more before he’s on. My personal record it six tugs in one swing before it found the hook. Most beginners have to farm a few before they get this, especially if they come from an indicator fishing background. Give them a chance to take it, eat it, and find the hook. The bottom line is, don’t do anything! Let them take it. Don’t take if from them. We are trying to catch them. You can’t do that unless they have the hook in their mouth with the line attached.  

Will appreciate every steelhead, regardless of size

Size only matters in certain things in life: boats, trucks, guns, boobs, and rods, but not steelhead. Every steelhead had to make the same amazing journey whether it was twenty inches or twenty pounds. If it ate your fly, that’s great! Every fly caught steelhead is a trophy in my opinion. Sure, I want to catch the big one. But please don’t complain when you see that half-pounder jump on the end of your line. Rejoice! You actually caught one!

There you have it. My apologies. By the time I finished writing this article, it had morphed into my annual complaint. Actually, there may be some helpful stuff there. I am going to pick at least one of these resolutions for my own. There is hope for us in 2010. It just so happens that ten is my lucky number. It might just be a perfect year, even if we are not.   

Muley Crazy......It's Not Just a Magazine

Wilderness of No Return

by Jon Hazlett

 It all started at my 40th birthday party. Four old college buddies, myself included, turned 40 this year, all within a month of each other. One of them hosted a huge birthday party in Silverton, Oregon, which featured a live band and more kegs than Jon Belushi and  Chris Farley could consume in a lifetime. That, in itself, is a whole other story. The four of us have hunted together quite a bit over the last 20 years. So, we decided to do a "fab four" 40th B-day hunt. The planning began the day after the party. After some discussion, we agreed that an Idaho mule deer hunt was in the cards. As the planning evolved, 2 of our four dropped out due to "work obligations". In the end, it was just me and my celebrity electrician buddy Chris "Torque" Lyda from Forest Grove, OR.

Geared up and Ready to Fly

My trip started with a five hour drive from Medford to the outskirts of Forest Grove where the Lyda Clan thrives . We packed his truck, got a few hours of sleep, and headed for Salmon, Idaho. After a brief stop in Nampa to get some coal, and an agonizing trip to Wal-Mart for some last minute supplies (People of Wal-Mart really do exist), we ventured north into the interior. We finally landed in Salmon, Idaho in time for a late dinner and a little fun on the town. After months of planning, it was hard to believe we'd be boarding a plane the next morning for an air taxi into the Frank Church Wilderness.

Chris Torque and our Islander Taxi

Excited to get hunting, we arrived early to the airport. Our pilot arrived just in time to get us loaded up. His name was Tor. He reminded me of the star of the hit series "The Walking Dead", Andrew Lincoln. No zombies interfered with our flight into the Frank Church. Given our arsenal they wouldn't have stood a chance. After a short flight over a couple mountain ranges and the Middle Fork of the Salmon, our pilot circled the dirt airstrip to make sure it was clear of animals, and then we landed.

Our Approach

We set up camp near the top of the airstrip. The weather was mild and sunny, perfect for getting things dialed. A couple hours and a few beers later, we had our wall tent, stove, and gear ready to get hunting. Our excitement overruled our spent bodies. A thirteen hour drive from Lydaville and sleep deprivation can take it's toll. But, our camp was 100 yards from a trail head, so we decided to check it out and do an afternoon hunt.

Best Camp Ever

Five minutes into the hunt, I turned to Lyda and said, "I definitely feel the elevation". We were only at 4200 feet, but I needed to blame my lack of energy on something. It wasn't long after that Lyda suggested we head back to camp and lay low. We were about to lose our Man Cards when we got bailed out by a small buck. He was a young 4 point and he was on the move.  I looked at Lyda and whispered, "Don't shoot him, buddy". That got our blood pumping and we knew at that point we were officially buck hunting. We spotted a few more bucks that night. That certainly got our hopes up for the rest of the week.

Dude where's my buck?

We explored that same drainage deeper on the second day. Our deer hunt was cut short by some elk that Chris spotted. After a bit of shooting, the elk ran off. As Lyda's barrel cooled, I tried to get my rangefinder to work. A finally ranged a tree at a couple hundred yards away. The fleeing elk were three times that. Guess we scared them off. We spotted a few bucks that day, but no shooters. 

What are you looking at?

Day three involved a combination of getting vertical and enjoying some winter weather. It was cold and snowing most of the day. We hiked up to a saddle and got a fire going. A couple small bucks cruised by as we enjoying warmth of the bonfire and a hot lunch. Didn't see any shooters that day. We did run into that elk herd again. After putting our best sneak on them, we decided to get some more shooting in. Thank God we didn't kill one. They were in a bad spot. Those elk were determined to screw up our deer hunt.

Late season weather is unpredictable.

The next morning was magical. We didn't really have a plan other than doing a little glassing from camp. The view from our wall tent was quite spectacular. The fresh dusting of snow on the ground made it even more appealing. While I was busy fining tuning my pack, Lyda was spotting buck after buck. It was one of those mornings where visibility was good, the deer were out, and the rut was on. One buck in particular looked like a shooter. Lyda told me that he'd found me a buck and that we were going to hike up there and kill it. I've hunted with him enough to know that when he says it's "go time", you'd better get ready to get after it. He is Chris Torque, after all.

Hunting can be gear intensive.

This buck was courting some does near the summit of the range to our west. All we had to do was hike up there, find it, and shoot it. Easy enough? This was new territory for us and we were excited. I think we both had a feeling it was going to be a special day. First off though, we had to get vertical. Once at the top, our target was three draws to the north. We encountered and bumped several deer during our stalk. Several hours later, we closed in to where the shooter buck was last seen. I snuck in on some does, expecting to see the buck, but never did. At that point, we had only a couple of hours of daylight left.

The previous day's look to the kill zone.

All the deer we had seen or bumped that day were heading up towards a big saddle. Lyda glassed up several deer heading towards what he called a "rut party". So we headed up that way to check it out. I got hung up by some does on my way. Lyda ventured ahead and waited for me anxiously. Once I finally caught up, I could tell by his demeanor that it was "game time". He was in full on guide mode. He said there's a good buck up ahead and that I was going to shoot it. We slipped up into the saddle under the cover of a few trees. We had a dozen or more sets of eyes on us and had to be stealthy. The "rut party" was on and we were uninvited guests. I could see several deer but not a shooter. Chris told me to get to the next tree, find the buck in the middle of the group, aim at 300 yards, and shoot. I snuck up to that tree, found the buck, aimed at 300, and dumped it. As it slid down the snowy hillside, I kept the lead flying in an attempt to stop it. I figured I had spined it by how it was acting. I yelled at Chris for an assist. He got a shot or two in at the moving target. The buck must have slid 200 yard before it came to a stop. A neck shot finished the job.

My first Muley and best bro.

It was a surreal moment as we walked up on it. Months of planning, several days of hard hunting, a failed spot and stalk, adapting, improvising, and perseverance resulted in a good buck on the ground, my first mule deer. After putting our hands on it, several hugs and high fives, we got to work. We got the headlamps out and got after it. Lyda, the master butcher, made quick work of my buck. With the whole deer in our packs, we headed back towards camp. It was a brutal pack out. Frozen ground, dead fall, poor footing, and a steep descent made for one of the toughest I can remembered. We finally got back to camp around 11 pm. There's no better feeling than completing a mission like that. That first beer tasted really good.

Fueling up before the pack out.

We slept in the next day. Our legs were ruined. We spent the morning cutting firewood, doing camp chores, and reliving previous day's hunt. Life was good. At that point of the trip, we had explored to the north and to the west of our camp. There was some interesting real estate due east of us that we'd scoped out the day before. So, in an effort to stretch our legs out, we ventured out of camp around 3 pm.

Does this hat make my face look less round?

Nothing in the Frank Church Wilderness is flat, and this was no exception. There was enough lactic acid in our legs to start a fire. It hurt. It was straight up. We hiked straight up an open face aiming towards some rocky terrain that looked promising. The closer we got, the better it looked. Our intention was to get an afternoon scout in. That's the beauty of hunting. You just never know what's around the next corner. We slipped over the rocky ridge line very quietly for our first look. Once again, we were in serious buck country. After a bit of glassing, Lyda suggested we get up to the next bump. There was enough contour that we couldn't see the whole picture.

A satisfied Chris "Torque" Lyda 

Lyda was like a bird dog on point. I was getting the feeling that something special was about to happen. We crept up through the rocks as quietly as our sore legs would allow. As Lyda approached our next glassing spot, I noticed his eyes focus in on something. He slowly chambered a round, raised his 325 Short Mag, and let one fly. That's all I saw from my perspective. From his, a shooter buck stood up out of his rocky bed, exposed his head and neck, and presented a 75 yard shot. The deer got hit hard. This is where the rodeo began.

Chris the master butcher.

He looked at me, we exchanged a few words, and he took off after his deer. As it slid down a rocky chute, he ran after it in an attempt to tackle it and prevent it from sliding off a cliff. It was still alive and thrashing though, and I yelled at Chris to let it go. It settled down in time for Chris to put another round in it, 20 yards from disaster. Wow, what the hell just happened, I was thinking. Our afternoon scout just turned into a jump shoot buck hunt. Awesome! Like many hunts, the fun is over once the critter hits the ground. This was no exception. This deer was in a bad spot. We had just endured a gnarly pack out the day before, and now it was time to get back to work. We slid our way down to deer. It took a little effort to get it into a safe spot take some pics, skin, and butcher. It goes without saying that it was worth it. My best friend Chris "Torque" Lyda just killed his best mule deer. I was just lucky enough to be there. We took our time and savored the moment.

Beer, beef jerky, bucks.... a few of the "b's" that makes a guy happy.

Our pack out wasn't easy. But, once we got out of the rock slide and over the top, we had good footing and easy going. While the soreness in our legs had subsided, there wasn't much left. We were tired, our knees ached, our shoulders hurt. It was a good pain though. The best there is. We had two deer tags filled and two days left to hunt. Life was good.

I tried holding mine out further than Chris, but his still looks bigger.

The next couple of days consisted of packing meat, shooting a coyote, hunting elk, and just soaking it all in. Without a doubt, this was my favorite all time hunt. What's better than mule deer hunting in the middle of the biggest wilderness area in the lower 48 with your best buddy? Nothing. We'll go back. I hope it's soon, because I am officially Muley Crazy.