The Sauk River is one of three major tributaries of the once-fabled steelhead river, the Skagit, in North Central Western Washington. I’ve only fished the Sauk twice: the First Time in April 2009, during what was—unknowingly at the time—the last catch and release steelhead season before the WDFW closed that season down. The second time I fished the Sauk was when I dressed as a fisherman for Halloween 2016.
In 2009 (when it was still socially acceptable to wear a fishing vest) I was a greenhorn Spey rodder, and on my first cast of the day, dumb luck struck and I landed my first wild steelhead on the swung fly. I’m glad I didn’t know it at the time, but it would be a long time after that day when I would land my next wild steelhead on the swung fly.
But let’s not dwell on the past, shall we? Jumping ahead to 2016, while no longer a greenhorn to the two handed rod, I am not a significantly better caster: ‘functionally adequate’ is how I describe my Spey casting prowess.
Late October is a bit early for western Washington winter steelhead, and while there may be a few early returning fish in the system, it’s not likely that they’ll be enticed to the swung fly. This time of year it was all about bull trout, or as some mistakenly call them, dolly varden. The difference between a bull trout and a dolly is fairly simple to explain, which I’ve done HERE in the past if you’re so inclined. At any rate, my friend Bob Margulis invited me to join him for what is one of his favorite times of year to fish the Sauk, when one stands a chance at a rather mixed bag of finned quarry: salmon, steelhead, sea run cutthroat trout, and/or bull trout. The bull trout have, at this time of year, recently concluded their annual spawn, during which they migrate from the main river up smaller tributaries. Once they’ve spawned they are spent, and hungry, and they move back down to the main river in search of a cigarette food.
As a very light, sporadic rain fell, we dropped into a run below a well known bridge and Bob set me up at the lower end of a run while he worked through to the top section. The Sauk was running a bit high due to recent (and current) rains, but not unreasonably so. There was a glacial green tinge to the river and visibility wasn’t horrible. In other words, the river was fishable. We observed a couple of chum salmon spawning in the gravel of an inside channel—a hen raking the gravel, creating a redd into which she was laying her eggs. A male moved in behind her to do his part. Cutthroat and bull trout would eventually move in later to snatch eggs from the redd, and eagles would eventually feed on the chum carcasses. Interconnected, the circle of life becomes quite evident during this time of year on Pacific Northwest rivers.
But I digress.
I laid out the first cast with my Spey rod—rigged with with a Compact Skagit head and type III sink tip—joined to a fluffy white streamer that, for lack of the actual pattern name, would best be described as “bull trout candy.” Just before the fly swung into the hang down, there was some resistance on the line. Naturally I assumed I’d hung up on a rock, but when the rock began shaking its head I changed my mind. There ensued no drag-screaming runs nor acrobatic displays, but the fish did communicate its displeasure and pulled with determination. After a short fight I landed what was a rather nice bull trout—somewhere in the 26-28″ range—certainly my largest to date. As Bob mentioned, “Where there’s one there’s more,” so after releasing the dollybull trout native char I continued fishing the run with the hope of finding another fish. Apparently that was the only willing participant in the run as neither Bob nor I touched another fish. We moved upriver, above the well known bridge, to try our luck on a new piece of water.
The rain began to fall in greater abundance as we situated ourselves on the next run. In my estimation, winter steelheading weather is wet and cold—a miserable combination that keeps most anglers inside by the fire reading about summer trout fishing. As the rain increased it certainly looked like winter steelheading weather despite that with temps in the low 50’s it was far too warm to be considered true winter steelheading weather (my hands weren’t even numb).
And that was fine, because we were fishing for bull trout. And I landed two more. These were considerably smaller than the first fish, each stretching the tape at about 18 inches. Despite their diminutive stature, they were game little fighters, one in particular was full of enough piss and vinegar that it jumped twice in protest. That would conclude the catching for the day, and in case you naysayers are screaming in outrage that my success is anything but an unaccomplishment, bear in mind that the day was not without unaccomplished incident: I had left home at 6:40 AM to meet Bob at 8 o’clock. I got 12 minutes from home when I realized I had left my waders back home in the garage. Fortunately I remembered before getting too far up the road. Wet wading would not have been a pleasant endeavor, despite that it wasn’t miserable enough to be considered winter steelheading weather.
Given that this is an election year, this seems appropriate to leave you with this: