Oregon - Fishing the Williamson River

September 22, 2016: After spending the night near Boise, we drove on to Oregon. We stopped at a nice rest stop/welcome center after crossing the border and took a photo, then drove on. 

Oregon rest stop - nice - free coffee and friendly people

What we saw as we drove was a big surprise--didn't fit our concept of what Oregon looks like. The eastern half of the state is pretty much empty, desert, bare rocks and cliffs, sagebrush prairie. We barely saw another car on the road for hundreds of miles. A few cattle and sheep ranches appeared here and there, but mostly it felt like wilderness. 

Southeast Oregon.

When it started getting late, we looked for a campground to spend the night, but they were few and far between. We almost drove past the "town" of Riley, which consisted of nothing but a small gas station/general store and a little post office across the highway from it. But we spotted a few RVs in the parking lot of the gas station and thought maybe we better stop too, so we turned around. Sure enough, for $15 a night we could camp in front of the gas station, along with a few others. Nice and quiet. Not much traffic goes by there.

Up and at 'em the next morning, heading for Klamath Falls in south central Oregon, near the Williamson River, the first Oregon stream on Jack's list. We began to see bigger and bigger mountains, some in the far distance with snow caps. We stopped for a few historical markers, most about the Oregon Trail and folks who tried to take short cuts and got lost and died. We gassed up when we got to Klamath Falls in mid-afternoon--gas prices not bad here--and looked for the fishing outfitters we had located on the internet. After reading up on the Williamson, Jack had decided he had better get a guide, as it's a tough river to fish. Very different from most trout streams. We found the outfitters, located on a resort called the Running Y Ranch. A young oriental man was manning the store and he didn't know anything at all about fishing! Not sure what he was doing there. He was very polite and he called the manager and she told him how to book a fishing trip with a guide--scheduled for Thursday with "Joe."

Then we backtracked north a bit to our campground, the Water Wheel RV, where we got a campsite right on the river, so Jack could try his hand before going with the guide on Thursday.

Fishing the Williamson River in Oregon by Jack

We camped at the Water Wheel RV Park and got a spot right next to the Williamson. My guide books warned me this was a tough river to fish. First sentence in my Top 100 guide book starts with this bolded statement: “THIS IS THE RIVER YOU HATE TO LOVE”. My other guide book had this advice: “If ever there was a place to hire a guide, the Williamson may be it.”

OK, you get the point. This is a tough river to fish. Why is that? Because the river looks like a spring creek (crystal clear cold water) and it's loaded with big fish that have plenty to eat. So why would a such a fish even bother to look at an imitation fly? I'm not sure, but I was banking on there being a few dumb fish in the river.

To increase my odds of catching one of these dummies, we booked the Water Wheel campground for three days and arranged for a guide on the second day.

First day fishing.

The day started out reasonably warm and sunny. I had checked out the stretch of the river by our campsite the night before for good fishing spots and even talked with my guide the evening before. My hopes were high. I would catch a fish so I could check off the stream and then have a relaxing day with my guide with Carol taking photos of all the fish I would catch on the following day. I started in the morning with nymphs and fished for an hour with no strikes. I discovered that I could not wade in the section where I thought big trout would be. The water was too fast and deep there for me to wade. Next I changed over to a weighted streamer (minnow imitation) and fished for an hour with no strikes. Finally I shifted over to dry flies and fished for another hour or two. Nothing.

First Day on Williamson River - Beautiful water - No fish caught.

After lunch the sky got cloudy, the wind started blowing hard, and it looked like rain. I tried several casts from a floating pier using a dry fly, I was able to reach some of the fast deep water, but no strikes. On one cast I ended up with a bunch of “wind knots” in my leader, so I gave up. The Williamson was living up to its reputation.

That night it rained and got cold. My guide for the following day suggested we move our starting time back one hour from 6:30 am to 7:30 am. I agreed, eagerly.

Second day fishing

Carol and I met my guide at 7:30 am. It was cold and cloudy and we were hopefully dressed for a chilling day with rain gear. We headed upstream near the town of Chiloquin. Joe explained that we would row the boat upriver and later drift back down to put in. At first this made no sense to me. Granted the area where we put in had flat water, but how much fishing could we do that day and how much water could we cover in a stream that had rapids and fast water? I trusted Joe's method, as I do all guides. They typically know where fish lie and how to catch them.

Joe had a year-old nice-looking bird dog which he let out of his truck as he maneuvered his boat down a steep bank into the river. Another fisherman, that Joe knew, had a dog about half the size of the bird dog pup and she quickly chased the bird dog back to his master. As we approached the river, I could well understand why the bird dog pup took off. His aggressor had a frightning snaggle-toothed mouth that made you look away for fear she would run you off also.

By this time, Joe had the boat ready and we climbed in. Joe paddled upstream, staying close to one side of the river so as not to disturb the fish in the runs. There we sat while Joe took off my 9-foot 6x leader and tied on a 9-foot 4x leader (leader breaking strengths: 6x-3 lbs, 5x-4 lbs, 4x-5 lbs) with nymphs tied in ever-decreasing size on 5x leaders. Near the top of the rig Joe tied on a 1-inch red floating ball that we used to call “bobbers” but which fly fisherman call “strike indicators.” So much more professional.

Joe told me where to cast this unruly rig and to strip out line and let it drift downstream while mending my fly line upstream so the red ball was always downstream. I was to do this until I could no longer see the strike indicator. Then wind the line back onto my reel and do it again. We repeated this style of nymph fishing for several hours. On some occasions Joe, and sometimes Carol, would yell “set, set!” which meant for me to quickly try and set the hook on a fish. Most of the time this resulted in a bottom snag. Nymphing is not my favorite way to fish and pales in comparison to dry fly fishing where you actually see the fish rise to the surface and grab your fly.

However, I needed to catch at least one fish and so I persevered and watched carefully that little red ball floating down the river with my line following the ball and placing no drag on the ball. So when it was least expected and everyone was chilled to the bone, my little red ball went underwater and I instinctively set the hook, followed immediately by a large fish jumping maybe three feet out of the water. I had a fish on and he meant to get away. I looked at my line that I had bundled on the foredeck of the boat. Too much to reel in so I couldn't put the fish “on the reel,” where the drag setting would wear the fish down. So I kept tension on the fish using the fingers of my left hand, while the fish fought to get off. Two more times he hurled himself into the air. Several times he ran downstream. When I got him close to the boat so Joe could net him, he took off again and even ran under the boat. Two more times Joe tried to net the fish. Once when Joe had him, he jumped completely out of the net. Finally, Joe netted the fish. No one in the boat was cold anymore. Adrenaline was flowing in everyone in the boat as Carol tried to get a picture of the 20-inch, 4-lb red-band rainbow. This fish was also camera shy. Twice he flipped out of Joe's hand and once he left one of the hooks in Joe's hand. Needless to say, Joe and I did several hi-fives as we watched this beautiful fish swim away. Carol had taken several pictures, some of which are shown below.

Fish On!

Note tangled fly line under reel.

Fish gets away from Joe's net.

Large fish in net.

Jack, Joe and nice Red-band Rainbow.

Joe without his sunscreen mask. Dog Rocky in truck.

I fished some more, but I was cold and tired and I could see so were Joe and Carol. I had caught the fish that allowed me to check off this RIVER YOU HATE TO LOVE.

Third day fishing

There will be no third day on this river, unless of course we get up tomorrow and I can see fish rising everywhere to dry flies.