Fishing The Coast, Oregon and Washington
Jennie's Fishing Life
A journal of my adventures.
The whole subject of the word Native has me confused. What truly
is native? Does it suggest that the species evolved in this place? Webster's
has it as "One born or reared in a particular place". or "belonging
to a particular place by birth".
O.K., that is fine.
But in reading"Salmon Without Rivers" by Jim Lichatowich, I have learned that our steelhead and salmon did not really evolve here.
In "The Coming Of the Pond Fishes" (by the way, and excellent, very interesting book) I have learned from where our warm water fish have been introduced . Bass did not evolve here, but yet they are called wild? Wild but not native? They were born here, yet they are not native. Hmmmm.
Where did our Native Americans come from? That is the next thing that I will be researching. I would like to know. Did they evolve here? I think they kind of came around through the Alaska Peninsula, not sure. Are they truly Natives? What is truly a native?
O.K., and another thing that has been bugging me.
Hungarian Partridge, several varieties of Chinese Pheasants and wild turkeys have been introduced from other parts of the US. I want someone to write a book called, "The Coming of the Game Birds".
Bill has been invited in the past to attend a private bird hunting club in Eastern Oregon where "hatchery planted", non native varieties of game birds are released to supplement the few wild (Naturally produced, native?) birds.
This brings up an interesting issue to me. Do they worry about the wild, genetic integrity of our upland bird populations in the same manner as our concerns over wild salmonids? Are we crowding out our native quail and grouse populations?
Will we in the future have to check if our bag is all wing tagged? How would you do THAT?
Wild? Native? Naturally produced? Planted? Introduced?
I am confused.
Never quote me, I ramble. Thanks to Grant Scheele who wrote me
that in Jim's book it says salmon DID evolve here. I just get my terms all mixed
up which was why I wrote all yesterdays stuff anyway.
And thanks to Bill Monroe who corrected me on Chinese Pheasants. "...pheasants were introduced here from China, not other states...Oregon was the first state to get them in North America... 1891, I believe..."
So, anyway.... evolved, introduced, argh! I am confused!
Interesting issue, and I am glad for everyone who is attempting to educate me! Tough job!
So, heard the Nehalem picked up at high tide yesterday.
Heard that there are many coho at the buoy 10 line, but that they seem to be hard to keep on the hook. Many fish hooked and lost. Encouraging to hear that they are in so soon. Should be a fantabulous year! I'd book a charter or a guide if you don't have a boat. Don't miss this years fishing opportunity!
So much for trying to be smart like yesterday.. From now on I'll just write about other things.
Oh! By the way....It's a good thing that I am best at music...
"Critics can't even make music by rubbing their back legs together."
- Mel Brooks
A trip to the doc proved that 'yep, I'm really sick', so now I
am on some kind of super bacteria killing drugs.
Oh! Just as I sold the last cute little bunny, I lay the Mama down to sleep and when I wake, (feeling a little guilty for robbing her of her young), I have 6 new ones! ARGH! Just call us the Kilchis River Bunny Factory.
Got a trampoline for the kids birthday and I felt well and silly enough to bounce around for a while. Man, am I sore. That thing is fun and makes me giggle, but I am not 19 anymore! Anyone knowing of any great orthopedic surgeons, let me know, I'm sure we'll need one. Why are all the most fun things dangerous and not good for us?
Buoy 10 is supposed to wait for me to get well but it looks like the fish are impatient and going for everyone elses bait. Sounds like a great season. Every year it seems they report it will be good and then we are somewhat dissapointed. Not so far this year! YAY!
Oh! Got a neato packet of fun things from my recent acceptance in the OWAA. I feel very honored to be a member.
Down on the gravel bank of the river, the kids dug a fire pit. Today we started the fire, and are now 'test roasting' a partial pig. I marinated it, wrapped it in lettuce leaves and then tin foil. We buried it in the hot coals and then covered the fire with a wet plank of wood and shoveled some extra rocks over the top. I have heard that you should not allow any smoke to escape. This was fun to watch for. "Ah! Smoke! Quick! Cover it!" and another shovel of gravel would stop it up. I can't wait until dinner! Fresh bread, fresh zucchini from the garden and some wild rice... YUM! I hope the fire pit operates as it should!
This is a test pig....
This is only a test pig.
Soooo... off to the rest of my day. I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous, so I take that to mean no fishing for oversized sturgeon. Just the usual 30 pound salmon for the sickly girl.
Neat new trick in Jim Sez.......
Have a nice day!
Hey there.. Things are really looking up at Buoy 10! I got some
fantastic reports today, and some really nice pictures from Tackle
Time in Warrenton. Gene and Linda know how to fish!
Len Self also sent in an awesome picture. Guess they are all having a great time out there! I WANNA GOOOOOOO!
But alas, my schedule has me here at the computer eating swiss chocolate given to me by a friend who just returned from Sweden. Thank you ESTER! MMM!
Ya know, Bill and I sat down with our schedules to figure out what is what this next couple of weeks. The tools needed to do this for us include most importantly a tide book. We mull over dates, check tides and decide.. "hmmmm, lets see, here is a day off here, the tides look good for.. hmmmm cutthroat!" or, "Hey, high morning tide.. looks like a perfect day for Buoy 10!" This just seemed funny to me! The majority of the public doesn't have 15 copies of tide books around, do they? I have one in the bathroom, by my bed, laying on the car floor, in the garage, on the fridge.... ! "Sorry! Can't teach a piano lesson today, good tides for Sturgeon, can we reschedule on a lower tide?"
I am more serious than I care to admit to any prospective client. My life revolves around the ocean tides. I am not good at math, but can tell you how many minutes to add to a beach tide to get Tongue point tides and vice versa, Tillamook Beaches to tidal flats on the rivers...
Ya know another thing? You can hear the tides change. High tide is sloppy sounding waves, and low is a kind of whir.....I don't know.. busier, faster. You also can feel the wind difference. The weather always changes to some degree at the change of the tide.
If it affects all these things.. fishing, the weather, the noises, you wonder how it affects us. Personally, it tells me whether to work or to fish. It tells me whether I can make it through the tidal flats to my favorite cutthroat hole, or whether I want to fight it out to buoy 10 or stay close to Astoria. Keep a tide book handy. Next time you have a major decision to make, maybe it can offer some insight.
The Dow is rising. Hmmm. Its high tide. SELL!
Do you think thats taking it a bit far?
At work? Whats WRONG with you people? Don't you feel that convenient sickness coming on? Tell your boss you caught a bug by reading Ifish.net. How many good reports do you need? Tim Juarez just called and said he took his family up on the Columbia and fished by the Astoria bridge. He was pleasantly surprised by a good day chinook fishing! Call your sources and go!
I think he could smell it in the air. Or the fact that I ran in
the door, slammed down my purse, ran to my files and starting searching by throwing
legal papers from one wall to the other. Perhaps he noted me madly dialing on
the phone, cursing mildly at the fax machine until he gently came in to inform
me I had to turn it on. One of those things, I don't know, but he picked up
on the fact that I had had a bad day. Missing state business papers that caused
me to be unable to deposit a check, Birthday parties to plan, dinner to cook,
clothes to wash, web pages behind.. One of those days.
So Bill loaded up the small duck boat, persuaded me to cook a frozen pizza for the kids and gently placed me in the front seat of a rig bound for cutthroat fishing.
It took me a while to calm down. But how long can you stare into a rain forest and think stressful thoughts? How many Blue Heron do you have to witness soaring gently through the air and yet still worry about bank accounts? But the big release, the big all time 'forget everything' moment came with the first bite. "Whoo! What was that? Oh! Bill! It's a fish!!!"
Guess he didn't think that was good enough for me, even though I went home and slept like a baby, dreaming of deep green mossy banks, and the still, calm, coastal waters that appeared silent, yet were filled with the activity of feisty cutthroat.
Nope, "Time to get up, Jen..." Five in the morning comes early, but anticipating the run of Chinook in the Columbia had me bouncing in no time.
We fished the Washington side, in about 40 feet of water. As soon as we crossed the shipping channel and landed in just the right spot, we dropped them in. Delta Divers with cut plug herring. Bam! The action started like nothing I have experienced in the recent past. Right away, Bill's rod went down, and I mean in the first five minutes! We had 5 take downs in the first 20 minutes of fishing. I have to tell you, and I'll never forget this. I lost Bill's beautiful 25 ish lb Chinook while trying to net it. I am still alive though. He didn't even so much as send me a bitter glance. Even though the strength of that fish broke his Berkeley rod. (I didn't cause that!!!) I was so upset. But one thing, I'll tell you. I will never forget that fish. This fish was up to the boat, glimmering like only a Chinook can do, with that purple hue that nearly blinds you in the sunshine. I would probably file that fish away in my memory as a 'no big deal' Chinook I netted for Bill... but I lost it, and now that picture of that beautiful Chinook will be engraved in my mind like none other.
I guess there is some good in losing Bill's fish. Now, whether he will agree or not is another subject.
The day was sublime. Superb! Bill came home with a nice Chinook, say 23 Lbs, and I came home with the fattest hen I have ever seen. Looked like a darn bluegill. All 33 inches and 20 Lbs of her. We also caught one silver, and lost several other Chinook... seems to be the way it's going, from what I've heard out there.
My stress has faded like the sunshine that has hidden in the fog on this most predictable, coastal summer evening. Everything is warm and cozy inside here... Salmon on the barbee, chickens in the yard, and Dee Dee laying at my feet.
Ahhh.... Fishing.. no better drug!
From now on, Tackle Time's reports will come from Annie
Chovy, the fishing cat!
Len Self got me all excited for Chinook again by sending in these pics.
My son was in an auto accident last night. He is OK, but it was very scary. I mean, I always get worried when other parents want to take him into Portland. Just natural, I suppose. But I told her..."Now drive carefully!" before they left. They said they would be home in time to cook dinner, so I called at 7. No answer.. hmmm.. Finally heard from them at 8:30 or so. I am so thankful no one got hurt. Poor little kid, I guess it was really scary when the air bags went off. His wavering little voice on the phone... Frustrating, because I can't drive at night, and he was in Astoria last night. Can't wait to go hug that little kid. Life is fragile. Don't let anyone go without hugging them. I'm off to Astoria to hug David.. lots!
Happy Birthday Andrew! We are going to the Tillamook Fair today
to celebrate and watch the infamous Pig and Ford races. How cruel can we be?
I remember once at Saturday Market a Fortune Teller was trying to win my 2 bucks by soliciting me with promises of letting me in on my future. It was one of those times when my immediate reply seemed witty and quick. "No thanks", I replied..." I know my future. I believe in God." I patted myself on the back as my kids stared at me and the Fortune Teller was silent. A passerby nodded at me in appreciation. I liked that.
Telling the future is something a Mother can do fairly easily with just one question or statement from a childs mouth.
You arrive at the boat ramp, get the boat in the water, ready the rods with the bait in the water. "How long are we gonna fish?" Fortune: This will be a short fishing trip.
You are busy fixing dinner that will be ready in 2 hours. "Mom, I'm hungry, how long till dinner?" Fortune: You will feed the kids pbj's early and dine alone on the four course meal you created.
You are down on the river and your kids are bored. They ask for a fishing rod to join you. Fortune: You will spend all day tying and untying, unsnagging and untangling your kids from a bee hive of tangled kids and rigs AND you won't be fishing yourself today.
It's your child's Birthday and you lower yourself to buying a video game for him that doesn't interest you in the least. Fortune: You will be a hero in someone's eyes today.
Andrew is as happy as a kid can be today. I am concerned about video games. That fast, immediate, over-stimulation from techno toys. I want more than anything else to instill in him the rush of catching a fish! For me it is the ultimate in immediate over-stimulation! Plus, the beauty of the outdoors, the calm that comes from drifting, floating, staring in the water.
I guess it is all a balance. He does appreciate beauty. He notices little things of nature and comments on them. Tells me we live in a Disneyland kind of magical place. I guess technology is what kids grow up with these days, and I see as I write this on the computer I have been stung by it also.
I guess what really matters in the end will make me happy. I would bet if we see a fortune teller at the fair today, and they try to persuade the kids to give them money, Andrew would know what to say, not only because he heard me, but he sees proof of it everyday in where he lives.. He sees it in the swaying green trees, in the river that runs through his yard, in the creatures that live here, and in the quiet of the evening as the elk call to each other. I see him laying on the trampoline very still, staring into the sky for long moments and I know his thoughts.
"No thanks... I know my future. I believe in God."
How could you not, living so smack in the middle of this natural creation?
Just as I was sure no one could ever think of new way to describe
a fish being played, Bill Monroe comes up with this. "...Somersaulting
like a silver fan blade." (The Sunday Oregonian, Aug 13th, 2000)
I really liked that one! I guess I can't give up hope. Every time I try to describe how it feels to have a grand fish on, I stop and think. Something comes to me that helps share how I felt, how the fish looked, reacted. I would create a grand description and then think surely it has already been written.
It has become my goal now to be original and clever in describing 'fish on'! (and just a wee bit competitive!) I don't know though, "somersaulting like a silver fan blade" sets a high standard, Bill. I think it said right after that something like, beat that, guys? Didn't it? No?
I have seen that, haven't you? The visual is quite clear to me! Whoo hoo! That is one of those phrases that makes your heart beat faster!
Same reaction when someone grabs the tip of my rod and tugs on it while I am testing the feel of my new G Loomis in the living room. That familiar emotion that bolts me from my sleep when I dream of catching the big one.
Thanks to Bill Monroe, I am going to get my fan out and paint the blades like shiny silver coho. Do you think there is a market for these?
I remember digging down in the soil of my garden, early in spring,
and making a dirt clod with my fist. It stuck together, a soggy mass of earth.
"Too early to plant" I sighed.
Today I walked out in the garden and the soil was damp from the early morning dew. It didn't look like I needed to water, but on closer inspection the soil just under the top, like turning one page in a book, revealed the dry dust. I dug down further, searching for signs of moisture, but couldn't find it.
A series of thoughts went through my head... Wasn't it just yesterday I planted? Didn't I hope for just one dry day not long ago? Will it ever rain now?
I look out my window and see the first signs of fall. The trees are not nearly so green. There is a hillside that fills my view from the office. In the Spring it seemed to be closing in on me with new growth. I now see spots of brown and signs that it is shrinking back to being dormant and still.
Will it be that soon that I will stand on the river bank in the wind and be lost in a sea of red falling leaves?
Time passes with astonishing speed. I look forward to the day I cast out into a stream that has life, a dream of a river flowing heavy with fall rains, and hook into the life that fall and winter brings. The migration of the Fall Chinook.
You can see it through the death of the hillside. You can feel it in the nip of your toes on the cold, wooden floors as you head for coffee. You can smell it in the must of the leaves that crackle under your feet as you walk towards the water.
For every death there is a birth. Today I celebrate the coming of my favorite species, my favorite season. I stare into the calm, low waters of the Kilchis river, and know that it will be soon.
I've got people dancing around the house in glee singing about
the rain! My kind of people, glad they live with me. Rise, river rise, and fill
with fish! Rain, clouds, rain, and wash out the dust, water my garden, clean
Bake cinnamon rolls, plan a dinner that includes gravy! Get out your sweat shirts and woolly socks and pretend it is winter! Start the fire, play the piano, get out the Monopoly game, its raining, it's raining!
I'm sorry to all the suntan fanatics, I do love the sunshine also, but isn't it getting a bit old? Day after day of monotonous sunshine that slows down the bite of the illusive salmon!
O.K., so now it is raining, it is bringing water temperatures down, the moon is not so full, what COULD this mean? The bite will get better than it already was? WHOOO HOOOOO! I'm going fishing!
Rain coats, soggy, drippy hair, warm heaters in the car afterwards!
I'm going bank fishing though. I miss it dearly. I'm going with my old fishing buddy Ben on the Columbia. We will bring all of garden offerings and exchange tomatoes for zucchini, peppers for beans.... It's the tradition and we have been doing it for 10 years or more. We bring sandwiches of bacon and tomatoes that get soggy by noon. Hot coffee with a hint of vanilla.
We sit in his pickup and gawk up and down the beach looking for rods that are bent over and ringing-singing for attention. We periodically turn on the windshield wipers... "FISH ON!" The people scream like a wave up and down the beach! Who is it? We all know one another by the end of summer, the regular guys and gals on the beach. "Tally up one more for Joe... How does he do it?" We go congratulate him and secretly peer into his rig to find what secret scent he may be using, or what method he ties his rigs. Ulterior motives we all have! You never directly ask, you investigate!
I have to teach piano lessons.
I can't go fishing today, but I needed to go back there, if only in my mind. Amazing how writing can take you places and a smile can come to your face, and everything is wonderful!
I did go fishing there today, didn't I?
The most exciting thing happened yesterday! They were doing some additions of barbs on the Kilchis, (yes, the river will change yet again to help someone retain their land.) Anyway, curiosity got the better of me as my house shook with the dumping of huge boulders. So, Bill and I waded across and downstream to see what was up. We talked to a guy, and he could tell I was fascinated with his track cat.. A BIG DIGGY! He let me sit in it! He let me start it and move the bucket and go round and round in it! WHEEE! I didn't even smash his truck! With his help, I pulled the bucket in right on time! I want to be a big diggy driver when I grow up! No kidding, it was utterly fascinating and I felt SO powerful! All these gadgets and buttons and joysticks! I was frightened and thrilled at the same time!
Sad fact: Moo is gone. Read May 1st for more info.
Bill and I were driving to town and the black cow in the fence that ran to greet us every time we drove by was gone. No where to be found. She used to see us, hear us, know us, and gallop to the fence where we always fed her carrots or apples. Sometimes we didn't have any offerings and we would try to sneak by. No luck! Busted! She saw us every time!
We drove back to make sure, we knocked at the door of the owner. No answer. We drove to the neighbors... "Where is the cow?" We asked, with just a little embarrassment.
"She is gone", It echoed in my ears. The neighbors loved Moo as much as we did. Moo was moved because her field dried up. Because she was half Brahma and was SO spoiled that she was butting her horns into the barn if she didn't get enough treats. But wait!!! I would have paid to feed her. I would have taken care of her. Why didn't they take a neighborhood poll? I didn't get to say good-bye. I don't know where she went. I feel SO helpless! I want my Moo back!
I am going to go out now and try to tease some cutthroat. I think the river level has risen a little bit, and it just sounds right today.
Have a good time going after the big ones! I'll be out soon!
We have been meaning to try this for quite some time: Access to
the Wilson river from Memaloose at low tide.
Not good! We put in with the little duck boat at Memaloose at a very low tide Saturday morning and motored down to the entrance of the Wilson, I, peering over the deck for shallows or stumps. Fump! We ran into the sand in short order. Everyone out! We pull the boat until the water got deep enough. Everyone in! 20 feet later... Wump! Everyone out! We trudged against the current in the muck of soft sand and waving mosses that told the story of where the water was going. There was no indecision, the water clearly had made up its mind. It was headed out to sea, exposing logs and flotsam that we darted in and out of. It didn't look good for later trips with the jet sled. Those deep pools on the lower Wilson are fishing grounds for the lucky landowners who live on that stretch. The flood of 96 had some benefit for those who survived the awful onslaught of water that encroached on their farms, killing cows, bringing destruction. The least it can leave them is a mostly private stretch of fishing ground. So to you who live on that stretch of the Wilson, with the deep pools where the Chinook lie, have at it! You deserve it! (but can I come over, please?!?!)
It is fun being adventurous and exploring these inlets and tidal flats that bear no navigation charts. It is a mystery, always changing. One day navigable, but after a very high or low tide things change. Always adjusting log jams may alter your next trip by sending you home before you reach your destination.
I was a good partner yesterday. I tried with all my heart to be supportive. Hats off to all of the fishing guides wives. I kept smiling. I made him a nice lunch. I wished him well as he left at 4 in the morning for the Columbia on a trip he auctioned off at the Steelheaders banquet. I didn't get to go, I instead headed off to play piano in Astoria. I came home and turned on the internet and stared at the bulletin board. It was silent. Usually you can watch peoples activity on the board, but yesterday it was silent.
It overwhelmed me! All of the sudden I imagined all the names that have become so familiar on the board and they were all out fishing! The house was silent! Bill was fishing! R.T. was fishing! Bait O Eggs was fishing! Dawhunt was fishing! THE WHOLE WORLD WAS FISHING!
and there I sat...silent....at my computer.
I imagined the rock of the boat, the feel of my rod in hand, the current pulling at the divers. Big game fishing! ...my computer chair started to rock in the waves until it drove me to my couch... There the imaginary chop lulled me to sleep and into dreams of catching Columbia river Chinook... until Bill arrived home.
I didn't know what I wanted to hear. Was it good? How did you do? Did you get them into fish? What were the people like? Was everyone out there?
He hesitated. He does this when he is afraid to tell me how good it was. It was killing me!
"No fish" he replied, with only the grievous emotions that a determined guide would show. I knew he was truthful. I knew how badly he wanted to get these people into some fish. I know how hard he tried, how hard he worked to find them a fish. They did hook one and lost it.
My heart went out to him. It looks like The Columbia River Chinook fishing has been slow as of late. Let's hope next week is better.
Maybe my dreams on the couch weren't so bad.
I posted a little Jim Sez tip. He comes
up with some good ones!
If I was one thing, I was determined.
It was a nasty, rainy winter day. Steelhead had just started running in the Necanicum and I was desperate to catch one. I was new to the serious addiction of steelhead fishing. Not really realizing that "on the rise" wasn't a really good thing, I convinced my past husband that on our trip to Seaside to get groceries, he would drop me off, clad in raingear at the raft across from the tavern on 101. It was blowing sideways, torrential rain falling, and growing near dark. He would go with the kids to get groceries. ALRIGHT! I thought, this is my chance!
I wobbled down the shaky walkway to the raft, which was bouncing up and down in the fast current and looking fairly dangerous. This did not deter me. I was here for fish. I fished and stiffened my body against the wind with no luck, so I packed up and began walking to the next hole down the river, the golf course hole. I thought that if my husband came, he would surely see me on the side of the road.
So here I am, walking against the wind, soaking to the bone alongside hiway 101, thinking it a short walk. It isn't, especially in this weather!
I made it to the hole. I thought if my ride passed by the highway, I could see them and wave him down.
The day grew dark at the speed that only a stormy, coastal day can produce. I thought I'd better walk away from my hole to the highway so I would be more Visible. It seemed like it had been quite a while. I was sopping wet and there was very little light remaining. The lights of the passing cars shone starkly on the wet roadway as I jogged across the divider. SWAP! My hood strings slapped me in the eye and thus flung my contact somewhere out on highway 101!
When I think of losing my eyesight, this is the panic feeling that I still feel today.
Totally helpless and lost, not knowing if I was standing in the middle of the highway or at the side. I groped to feel for gravel with my feet indicating the true side of the road. Tears welled up in my eyes and mixed with my already rain soaked face. I crouched down in a futile effort to find my contact in the streams that were cutting across the pavement. A car would pass and honk indicating I was not where a pedestrian belonged. I was the eternal optimist thinking that God would somehow deliver my tiny blue contact out of that blurry maze of truck horns and streaming torrents of rain.
My family, after what seemed like ages, pulled up to find me along side the road, huddled in an almost fetal position.
"Help me find my contact!" I sobbed. After searching for a few minutes he finally convinced me there was no hope.
He had been terribly worried about me, having driven to the spot he had left me and not finding me, thought I had fallen off the raft and drowned. The water had risen a foot since I had started fishing and the raft, he said, was looking treacherous.
What a nightmare.
Even though I may not be able to see as others do, it is memories like these that make me so thankful to be seeing at all.
Last night, way out in the field, I saw movement. I grabbed my field glasses and was so proud to discover that I had spotted three deer at the edge of the woods. I found them! No one pointed them out to me, I pointed them out to them. I can see!
Found out the decals should be here in about a week! COOL! Did
you order yours?
When I don't fish a lot, I get this weird uneasy feeling. Why am I writing a column about fishing? I don't know even know what is going on!
I'll state simply what I do know.
Chinook, as you know, out on the Columbia will be closed Sunday night. I am not brave enough to fight the traffic or the launch lines to go grab my last one (or two!). Besides, it may reopen in September.
I met a really nice guy on the Nehalem. One of those sorts that just keep popping up in your fishing world. I see him at the bait shop, on the rivers, parked by a fishing lake, and I guess I was meant to remember him! He has e mailed me of success on the Nehalem. I still don't think it is red hot, but I can tell he is the persistent type. He has caught a 12 lb and a 16 out there. Way to go, and I'm glad I met you! I want to fish the Nehalem next week.
I think I am going bank fishing on the Columbia after church. I miss Social Security beach, and the fun of it all. I hope I remember a change of clothes. Walking out there in heels would be a challenge, although I have experienced this before. Actually, I took em off and walked barefoot.
Bill and I went cutthroat fishing a couple of days ago and had the most fun! 16 fish, all between 11 and 17 1/2 inches! (he caught most and the biggest...) Man, that is fun!
Remember, this is August. The dog days of summer, you know? NOT the fishiest of days.
Aug 26th later
We had duck for dinner a while back, and of course there were
the dried out wish bones to contend with.
While grasping mine tightly in my hand and wishing with all my might, I wished a general wish, a wish that I might live happily ever after.
I lost. What does this mean?
Linda from Tackle Time sends this in:
Hi Jennie, Sorry I haven't had a fishing report for you and the column. We've been real busy and nothing of much interest to report. Everyone including me, kept thinking any day now it's going to go crazy. Unfortunately, it's been somewhat of a disappointment. The fish that have been caught are just beautiful fish, but not in any numbers. Some guys are doing pretty good, while others troll around all day with maybe a strike or two and nothing to bring home. Since this is the last day for Chinook, many are trying one last time to catch the elusive king salmon. For those that aren't aware, you will be able to catch Chinook above Tongue Point. As far as the Coho, that will run through December. The Coho this year are the biggest I've seen in years. At least we still get to fish for them. Good luck, and Good fishing, Linda
I went to see Linda yesterday to pick up some bait and fished from the bank on the Columbia. I didn't catch a darn thing but if felt great to be out there, watching the pelicans work, and the boats bobbing around in the whitecaps. We had a lot of grass on our lines as the tide turned, and a lot of wind. I finally pulled in and called it quits.
I'm leaving to fish the Nehalem today! Kids gone for three days with their Dad in the Dalles. WHEEE! A fishing frenzy is about to occur, ladies and gentlemen!
Just remember, when the kids are away, the Mom will play!
Jeff sent this picture in of a beautiful
summer steelie! Thanks Jeff!
Please, if you haven't signed up for the contest, do it today, cuz tomorrow I spin the magic carrot that will pick the winner of the Lightning Strike Lures!! and.......
Tomorrow will start the next contest! I have been sent a deluxe box of cool lures and stuff from Lockett Lures! I can't believe all the goodies she sent, and I can't wait to give them away on November 1st! Talk about jigs.... If I can withhold using them, you will love them! Actually, the box is sealed, safe and sound, besides, she gave me some to try out, and I can't wait! In fact, I'm going out this morning to play around with some jigs from Lockett Lures!
This fall is going to be SO exciting! Marie from Tillamook Bait is going to provide local river reports so you can stay more up to date. It's all on The Discussion Board! You should go visit her site on ifish, and see the new pictures of coho caught. Then go visit her own web site and order some bait ahead of time! How convenient! From her reports you will know when to come, and then have your bait all ready ordered! COOL!
I can't wait till Fall, and you know what? When I walked down to the river the leaves had fallen and the familiar crunching of leaves echoed across the canyon! I nearly took a picture just to show you! Red, crunchy, dried up leaves! FALL!!! FISH!!!
Oh! And another thing... Took a drive up the other side of the Kilchis and they have fixed all of the land slides so you can access it up to the forks! It is so gorgeous up the river! They have been working so hard with trucks going up and down the road that I knew it was close. I didn't realize how many slides there had been. Now I know why occasionally the river mysteriously muddied up last winter. But they are all filled, graveled in and passable. Go take a drive sometime, you will be transported into a forest and fishing wonderland! I have my fishing spots all ready mapped out. Some of them, however, will require a plastic bag to slide down the cliff, (trails known as fanny falls....) and who knows how I will get back up, carrying all those monstrous fish!
Anyway, I have been at the computer since 5 and it is now 8, so off I go. Time to go buy some school clothes for my kids. See, all the signs are here, school, leaves falling, the weather this weekend turning rainy, the rivers rising.... Ah! I'm alive again!