Pelican Lake On Blast (But for the right reasons)

West Coast Dreaming Part 1 – Lighting The Steelhead Flame.

I’m an inland Canadian prairie boy, through and though. Pretty much every aspect of my life up until 2016 revolved around what I learned about hunting and fishing while growing up here. This always served me well, I found success and satisfaction in my outdoor lifestyle here. Life as I knew it was good.

Then I met a girl.

Dawn lived near Portland. We did the online thing for a while, then decided to meet. She first came here and we hit it off. From there it was trips back and forth. I took her out fishing every time she came here, but I never wetted a line while in Oregon. That was until march 2017.

My first fishing trip in Oregon was to Hagg lake, a wonderfully beautiful body of water found east of Portland. It was home to multiple species of fish, stocked trout, large and small mouth bass and pan fish. We hit the lake right after Oregon fish and game had stocked it with trout. However my target that day was large mouth bass, as I had never caught one. But it quickly became clear that it was too early in the season for them. So then I switched up to what I knew well, trout. Dawn and I finished the day catching 8 to 10 inch trout. Fun, but not overly exciting as there’s multiple trophy trout lakes within an hours drive from my home in Manitoba. Lakes that I knew well, and had captured quite a few “trout of a lifetime” out of.

On the way home I expressed this, and Dawn told me of steelhead fishing. I knew of steelhead and understood that there was a fishery in Oregon for them. But I didn’t know the ins and outs. A quick online research session showed that there were fish in the Sandy river, literally three miles away from our doorstep. Plans were made to partake in a day of steelhead fishing.

We first hit Dodge Park, then hiked down to the holes found just below the sandy hatchery. I quickly realized that I was way out of my element. I was used to fishing for trophy still water trout that averaged 3-5 pounds and maxed out around 10, not wild fish in a river that could push 20 pounds. I knew my light trout gear wouldn’t cut it, I also knew nothing of the tactics and strategies. Watching another angler fight and land a steelhead completely put me over the edge. I talked to as many anglers as I could that day, picking up as much info as I could.

These fish were new and foreign, these fish were my new obsession.

Over the next year YouTube and online articles were my resource of choice. Figuring out what terminal gear was easy. I would simply upgrade size wise what I would normally use for trout. Tactics however were a bit more of a challenge to pick up. I had spent plenty of time fishing our rivers here for Walleye and Pike, so I did have some understanding on where fish would hold. But, the actual presentation was completely foreign to me. Terms like bobber dogging, beads, plunking and twitching might as well be Klingon, that’s how well I understood them. But, over the year I got a fair grasp on them. In the mean time Dawn moved to Canada, we got married and started a life here. So our first trip back to Oregon was exciting for both of us, she would get to see her family, and I would get a chance to try my hand with winter Steelhead. I picked up a steelhead rod/reel and started putting a tackle box together over the week after our arrival. It didn’t take long to spend a few hundred bucks (shhhhh, don’t tell my wife). But I felt confident that I had the gear and the basic knowledge, and understood that this would serve me well.

Dodge park is a beautiful place, the bank of the Sandy River there is also very crowded with fisherman. Such was the case when I arrived on february8th. Rightfully so, the pool in the park is classic. Fast water in, nice and deep hole and a gradual tail out, all full of large rocks to create seams for the fish to hold in. I had learned during my research that this was prime steelhead water. But I wasn’t a fan of the idea of combat fishing due to my limited experience. I needed to find fishy water away from the crowds. This was when my first lightbulb moment happened. The river was high, double what it’s normal late winter flow is. I knew from my river fishing experience at home that the fish would leave the classic holding area’s and move closer to the bank. Scouting from above the bank I noticed a little pocket of “calm” water about the size of my living room close to the bank, and well away from the combat zone. This was where I was going to start.

My first few casts were full of anticipation. I quickly adjusted the depth of my bobber dogging rig so the bead I was presenting would stay in front of the fish longer. Cast after cast, not a sniff. I was starting to question the spot when the bobber drained. I reeled and lifted the rod expecting to feel a rock, what I felt instead was an 8 pound dark torpedo of muscle.

I had a steelhead on.

The battle was short considering the conditions. Or at least if felt that way, probably due to the adrenaline running through me. I had a beautiful dark buck (male) fish to the bank after few hard runs and some dogging in the current. This is where my heart was broken a bit. See, there’s two kinds of steelhead in the Sandy river. Hatchery fish and wild fish. One can keep three hatchery fish, all wild fish must be released quickly. There was still an adipose fin on my fish, he was wild. The adipose fin gets clipped on hatchery fish. I had to let this fish go, which wouldn’t have been too bad other than I was fishing alone, and had no camera to even take a quick image of the fish in the water. The stunning buck swam away after a quick flick of my foreceps. The term “pictures or it didn’t happen” ran through my head for the rest of the day. I fished a while longer, then headed for home.

I now needed to catch a fish and prove I had done it.

Two days later I was back at that spot, and I wasn’t alone this time. Dawns Aunt Karen joined me as she was hoping to catch a steelhead herself. I worked my way down to the same little pocked of water and began fishing. Things went much the same initially, cast after cast with no action. But this time I knew there’d be fish. Two hours in the bobber hesitated mid drift, then shot down and forward. This time I knew what was happening, I lifted the rod after reeling quickly until I felt weight, and that weight pulled back hard!

I had another steelhead on, and this one was way bigger than my first.

This battle seemed to go on forever. The fish was pushing my equipment to it’s limits, with massive head shakes and long runs right to the edge of the fast water. I knew it was most likely game over if it got into the rapids, so I pulled back as hard as I dared. Over the span of a few minutes I was able to work the fish to the bank, then into my grasp.

The large dark hen (female) had no adipose fin, I was going to be able to keep her. Bonking her in the head went against everything I normally do. Catch/Picture/Release is huge at home, but I felt I had to keep her, and knew I’d smoke her up for family and friends to enjoy.

I ran a tape measure along her after a quick photo session with Karen. 32 inches, a pretty good fish for the Sandy from what the multiple anglers that wanted to talk and gawk after seeing the battle told me. The pride I felt that day was just the same as what one would feel after shooting a mature whitetail buck, and I still glow when talking about it.

I had done it, I had fulfilled my west coast dream, I had started my journey to becoming a steelhead fisherman. But I needed more, I needed to explore different waters, try different techniques, needed to grow..........that’s where part two comes