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North Huron Steelhead ~ A Day On The River


solopaddler

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It was one of those days.

Gale force winds and horizontal precipitation buffeted the car as we made our way north.

Arriving in town in the pre dawn darkness I had a sudden moment of inspiration when passsing a bank of drive-in car wash bays.

While I had no need to rid my vehicle of filth we pulled in out of the storm and donned our gear in relative comfort.

Seems the nasty weather had scared off most other anglers as well. When we met Bill at the parking lot high above the river ours were the only two cars.

We had a good look at the river as we picked our way down the steep hill: higher than normal with a definite tinge to it from earlier rains. It was absolutely prime.

It's a great feeling when you absolutely know the day will be a good one before you even start.

When we arrived at the river bank Bill and Paul slipped downstream in the gloom. A jaunty little seam on the far side of a mid river island had caught their attention.

I headed off on my own, carefully wading across the broad expanse of river to reach the other side.

Several hundred yards upstream was a neckdown and a short run of wild white river. I started there.

With no other anglers in sight I took my time, carefully selecting the right vantage point then turning my back to the relentless wind to alter my rig and bait up.

It was great holding water but shallower. I shortened my lead and lengthened my tippet slightly, adding a couple of larger split shots near the float so that it would right itself instantly in the churning current.

With my fingers already stiff and cold I fumbled with the jar of freshly tied roe finally managing to impale one on the slender #12 hook.

First cast sailed high and off the mark as a huge gust of wind suddenly whipped up.

I quickly retrieved my line and managed to flip my float onto the edge of the seam 40' in front of me.

The wind was wreaking havoc with my drift as I had no control over my float, it wasn't tracking straight and was tipping over and being pushed back upstream in the gale.

Reeling in again I remembered an old trick. Fishing in my pack I dug out a bag of larger split shot, the ones I'd normally use when throwing Flatfish. I clamped one onto my mainline 6" above the float and managed to hit the seam in front of me once again.

The split shot above the float did it's job keeping my line from being whipped upstream and ruining the drift.

It wasn't perfect but definitely better.

The float bobbed and danced downstream doing the rumba along the edge of a foam line.

The hit wasn't violent, in fact the float barely moved, just subtly toppling over sideways.

Nevertheless I struck hard and was immediately warmed by the tell tale headshakes of a solid fish.

I quickly reeled in my line gaining on the fish and turned into the face of the wind when suddenly the fish went ballistic.

It cartwheeled out of the water in a shower of spray and shot downstream in flash. The power and speed were breathtaking.

I stumbled after it for about 10 seconds when abruptly everything went slack, the fish was gone.

Not a bad start I thought as I reeled in and sat down on a rock. Hunkering down into my goretex I reached into my pocket to light a smoke and take stock of the situation with the icy wind whipping tendrils of cold all around me.

This is what it's all about I thought, it just doesn't get any better.

 

After working the run for a good 45 mins with nothing to show for my efforts I slid downstream to see how the boys were making out.

 

Paul, sly devil that he is, had managed a couple.

 

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Things had slowed downstream as well though. I fished across from them for a while with no luck, then as if on cue we slowly began to wade our way back over to the car for a conference.

Paul lagged behind fishing as he went, while Bill and I discussed the situation.

He was feeling the effects of the bitter wind and had decided to pack it in for the day.

I tried to talk him out of it, but he was chilled to the bone and eager for the warmth of his car.

After saying our goodbyes Paul and I were undaunted. After a pit stop for some hot java we decided to nose our way further up river.

With the water running high it was a good bet that the fish had shot past us and were holding upstream.

We drove across to the south side and parked close to the dam, picking our way down the rain slick rocky trail to the river.

There were only a handful of hardy souls working the tailout of the dam pool, plenty of room for us to squeeze in, but we walked on.

After fishing this river for almost 30 years you tend to learn a few tricks.

Even with the foul weather the lack of people was strange. Usually if the fish are in the people are there.

"Well buddy" I said to Paul, "This'll either be boom or bust, we'll find out pretty quickly".

We worked downstream a long way to an area where a high clay bank was at our backs.

The deeper water was on our side of the river and our casts would be shorter and easier to control in the wind.

I waded over to a table top flat rock about four feet from shore and climbed up, Paul worked his way about 100yds downstream from me and set up on a nice seam at the tailout.

 

The wind almost knocked me off the slime coated rock until I could get a grip with my spikes.

Before we could begin, boiling black towering cumulous clouds skudded across the sky releasing a volley of ice pellets mixed with rain. We turned our backs on the stinging deluge 'till it abated and were given a brief window.

 

It was deeper here so I stretched out my float and split shot and added a bit of dust shot to the tippet.

I normally cast directly across the current and allow the float to drift downstream with the bait invariably swinging ahead of the float and shot in the current. The expected hookups almost always occur downstream. Sometimes far downstream.

This time I heaved a cast quartering upstream.

The float cocked and the shot and tippet straightened out and set up perfectly directly across from me.

Surprisingly the float shot down with authority. I knew it was a fish before I even reared back on the rod.

Because it was directly across from me and not very far away my angle was perfect and I drove the hook home solidly.

Nothing happened for a split second...it felt as though I had set the hook into a bowling ball.

Then the water erupted. A very angry chrome fish bolted downstream in a flash as I struggled to slip off my rocky perch.

Suddenly I wasn't cold anymore as the adrenaline surged. The fish made half a dozen lightning fast runs, my centrepin reel spinning wildly. Twice it ran directly at me and I madly reeled in the single action reel and back pedaled lifting my rod high to gain line.

This fish was mine though and we were soon admiring it's brilliance as it lay at my feet in the shallows.

 

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So fresh and chrome it's scales were dropping off when I gently lifted her for a quick photo.

 

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Now that's more like it.

 

Steelheading is never a sure bet. There are so many days where you struggle and scratch for a couple of fish, sometimes none. It makes you appreciate the truly great days like a gift from above.

This as it turned out was a special day.

Shortly afterwards we both set the hook into chrome bright fish....a double!

Laughing like kids as we stumbled around on the slick bank trying to keep our fish away from the other. It was madness.

 

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The rest of the afternoon was a blur. There were many, many fish hooked. Some were landed, the majority gained their freedom with a wild show of acrobatics.

 

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Make no mistake these fish were strong. While not enormous in size they were mostly wild fish and used the power of the big river to their full adavantage.

Still, the long soft rods, shock absorbers really, were able to subdue their share:

 

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There really is nothing better than a wild fresh run November steelhead. Numb fingers, runny noses, cold rain and sleet are a small price to pay.

 

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We fished the rest of the day 'till the light grew dimmer, slowly fading to a cold grayness in the bleak November

twilight.

 

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By the time we made it back to the truck it was fully dark. I started it up to get the heater going and slipped off my cold wet wool gloves.

I held my cold trembling fingers tight to the blast of warm air emanating from my dash, trying to coax some feeling back into my tortured digits.

Within seconds they turned an angry shade of red and the feeling slowly seeped back.

As we peeled off the layers and changed into dry fleece I poured Paul and I small shot of Jamaicas finest.

Burning and warming our insides as we toasted the day.

 

"Cheers my friend, this is what it's all about!"

Edited by solopaddler
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very nice fish mike, oh i was wondering what it cost for a licence to fish the states wanna go there soon

cheers

 

 

Thanks.

The States is a pretty big area bud LOL! I have licenses for Michigan, Pennsylvania, Ohio and New York currently in my wallet.

They vary wildly in price.

 

Thanks for the kind words all. :)

Edited by solopaddler
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My ONLY shining moment of the day was the 3rd drift I made with your rig :)

 

I gotta admit, that was pretty sweet. At least we saw it airborne a couple times before she threw the hook.

 

I hated that river with a passion, now it's one of my favs.

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Awesome report Guys,...Written like a poet to boot!!! so Bill, are you kickin yourself for leaving so soon?..thats one hell of a drive to go home so fast...

 

Yeah man, it was a piss off. I had some work done to my GL3 that I needed to pick up in Owen Sound, so the day wasn't a complete loss.

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Can't wait for that weather again......bring on the snow storms....lake effect squalls....heavy snow upstream and a little melt to dirty the water. Fishing the slack water at a few of those spots with some snow in the air and hooking into a few to keep me warm.

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'Couldn't be that cold, the river's still liquid!!!! :lol:

Mind you our river is still liquid and it was -25 this morning!!!!! :w00t:

 

 

Lol,..you must have some good tricks for avoiding line freeze,....personally here I cant stand it less than -5 or so just to do with that,...I mean I have worked 40 stories up on roofs in -20 and howling winds,...but the line freeze up BITes,..I know there is the ice off paste and vaseline etc,..but those are just temp measures,..no?

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