Last week, Blake invited new shop guy Jacob and myself to join him on the coast for a day of fishing. The plan was for Jacob and I to head out after work on Thursday, crash in Forks, and fish all day Friday. We definitely didn’t last all day at work, let me tell you.
All of us had new rods to try out, and the feeling was pretty positive that we were going to get into fish. Jacob and I stopped along the way to wet a line that evening, and the fishermen we bumped into who went five for five on steelhead only boosted our spirits. As things started getting dark, we headed to the hotel and the promise of a bottle of home brew. (Which was actually pretty damn good).
You know you’re in a fishing town when every hotel is booked solid, and their parking lots are jam full of drift boats and rafts. Walking into the cafe early Friday for a quick breakfast was like walking into a fishing show. Every table was occupied by guys in waders, fishing hats, and various fishing sweatshirts and coats. Out of the buzz of conversation you could hear fragments of talk of cfs, float times, and how to properly rig a float setup. Good times. And one of the few decent $6.25 plates of biscuits and gravy I’ve had in a while.
It has been raining all night, and the water was on the rise. Our first float took us to a river that we thought would be pretty busy, but in fact the only other boat we saw was on the road going to a higher launch. We indicator fished while we drifted, and stopped to swing a couple good looking runs. Blake got a pretty good grab on the swing, but the only fish we saw was one porpoising steelhead.
The plan was to head up to another stretch and try that with the raft, but Blake decided to head back to town. Jacob and I weren’t quite ready to call it a day so we decided to go exploring. That is half the fun of fishing anyway.. Trying out new waters and just aimlessly driving around to see what is there. Eventually we found a pretty sweet access that didn’t appear to be that heavily used.
The day wore on, and no fish were to be had. We talked to another bank fisherman who was just vacating a large, deep run who claimed to have had three grabs in that stretch and most of the boats floating by reported at least one fish. So we kept fishing. Eventually we decided to move spots, so we headed up the road.
What we found was perfect. Big, deep, slow, boulder filled run that just screamed steelhead country, even to a novice like me. It looked perfect, even if the banks and trees didn’t give you much room to cast. We pounded the water, and the only thing we managed to catch were bushes, trees, and rocks. Did see another large fish jump clear of the water though. Dime bright too…
Once we got back to the truck, took all the gear down and were heading back, we came to a horrible realization. We were on timber company land. And on timber company land there are gates on the roads. And the gates were shut.
According to the map, there were two ways out. On the way in we honestly had not seen the blue gate. It had been pushed way back into the bushes. After driving back and forth to both entrances we parked behind one and assessed our options. Hasty phone calls were made, and yet no one seemed to know anyone who might have a key. The best piece of advice came from Blake: “Watch out for Sasquatch!”. Thanks Blake.
Eventually, our only option was to call the police. Which we were somewhat loath to do, since we imagined that option would entail a healthy fine too. But, it was either that or wait until Monday morning. Fortunately we got the coolest cop ever. He pulled up, asked how the fishing was and let us out. We got pretty lucky with that one.
We didn’t get any fish this trip, but that’s ok. We got out on the water, we got a good story out of it, and made a fishing buddy. Sounds like a successful trip to me.
