02-22-2008, 07:10 PM
TUMWATER - I caught my first lunchtime fish of 2008 on Thursday afternoon, and maybe that's a sign that this long, tough winter is easing into history.
A lunchtime fish is a fish caught during lunch break. Lunchtime fish also can be fish caught before work - but never fish caught after work.
Lunchtime anglers - or pre-breakfast anglers - are perhaps the nuttiest members of the crazy angling tribe. You're wedging an hour or so of fishing into the sacred workday, and that means you're spitting into the screeching windstorm that is modern life.
I read somewhere that many workers in the United States don't use all of their vacation time each year, and it's common to see people working during their lunch hours - even in state office buildings.
I think this evil trend rides the same frenetic, life-wrecking wave as text messaging, video games, cell phone gizmos embedded in your ears and surveillance cameras peering out of traffic lights.
All of this technology and newness seems designed to keep us all on the doggone ball all of time.
It is creepy.
So, why not slip off to the river and make a few casts in the middle of the day?
That weak winter sun actually felt warm on my back as I walked along the our little Deschutes River on Thursday afternoon.
The Deschutes River has flexed its muscles all winter long - thanks to lots of rain and snow - but the dry weather for the past week shrank the currents, and it's possible to wade the river again - if you're very careful.
The Deschutes has spent the past three months gouging into banks and changing directions, and the river is new in a lot of spots. A new river is a dangerous place, as spots that were knee-deep last fall can be chest deep.
The banks look a little raw right now, but the trees and shrubs and grasses will fill in the blanks. My favorite section of the river is full of fallen trees and lots of gravel bar ledges that drop off into deeper water.
Yeah, this new river is a fishy place.
Anyway, I sat on the bank and peered into the water. I spotted a couple of big cutthroat trout finning in some slow, froggy water in the midst of a tangle of fallen trees. There was no way I could cast into that minefield without snagging, but seeing those bigger fish reminded me that some sea-run cutts are spawning in the river right now.
So, I tied on an egg fly and crept around looking for current seams - where slow water meets fast water.
Egg flies are the fly to use most of the late fall and winter in South Sound's year-round creeks and rivers, as cutthroat and rainbow trout are always looking for loose salmon, steelhead or trout eggs.
Salmon and steelhead eggs are packed with nutrients, and they're the prime rib of the trout world.
I really believe that trout love eggs more than almost any other food, and I suspect they keep looking for eggs long after all the real eggs hatch out into little fish. Think about this: lake anglers use real salmon eggs for bait all summer long, and that's in a time and place with no spawning salmon at all.
Anyway, I kept tossing my egg fly into the seams and hoping for a trout.
A 10-inch cutt whacked the fly after a few minutes of casting, and it peeled a little line off the reel before quitting and head-shaking all the way to the bank.
The fish glowed in the sunlight, and black spots looked like ink on its olive-green back.
I backed out the barbless hook, and the fish darted back out to deeper water. I didn't even have to touch the fish.
I stayed on my knees and felt the current press against my waders and flow around my legs.
I was about to stand up and make another cast when I saw fresh raccoon tracks on the new, sandy bank.
I looked around in the shallow water and found little chunks of crayfish shell and claws.
Lunchtime is a good time to go fishing.
Chester Allen's fishing column appears Fridays in The Olympian. He can be reached at 360-754-4226 or callen@theolympian.com.
A lunchtime fish is a fish caught during lunch break. Lunchtime fish also can be fish caught before work - but never fish caught after work.
Lunchtime anglers - or pre-breakfast anglers - are perhaps the nuttiest members of the crazy angling tribe. You're wedging an hour or so of fishing into the sacred workday, and that means you're spitting into the screeching windstorm that is modern life.
I read somewhere that many workers in the United States don't use all of their vacation time each year, and it's common to see people working during their lunch hours - even in state office buildings.
I think this evil trend rides the same frenetic, life-wrecking wave as text messaging, video games, cell phone gizmos embedded in your ears and surveillance cameras peering out of traffic lights.
All of this technology and newness seems designed to keep us all on the doggone ball all of time.
It is creepy.
So, why not slip off to the river and make a few casts in the middle of the day?
That weak winter sun actually felt warm on my back as I walked along the our little Deschutes River on Thursday afternoon.
The Deschutes River has flexed its muscles all winter long - thanks to lots of rain and snow - but the dry weather for the past week shrank the currents, and it's possible to wade the river again - if you're very careful.
The Deschutes has spent the past three months gouging into banks and changing directions, and the river is new in a lot of spots. A new river is a dangerous place, as spots that were knee-deep last fall can be chest deep.
The banks look a little raw right now, but the trees and shrubs and grasses will fill in the blanks. My favorite section of the river is full of fallen trees and lots of gravel bar ledges that drop off into deeper water.
Yeah, this new river is a fishy place.
Anyway, I sat on the bank and peered into the water. I spotted a couple of big cutthroat trout finning in some slow, froggy water in the midst of a tangle of fallen trees. There was no way I could cast into that minefield without snagging, but seeing those bigger fish reminded me that some sea-run cutts are spawning in the river right now.
So, I tied on an egg fly and crept around looking for current seams - where slow water meets fast water.
Egg flies are the fly to use most of the late fall and winter in South Sound's year-round creeks and rivers, as cutthroat and rainbow trout are always looking for loose salmon, steelhead or trout eggs.
Salmon and steelhead eggs are packed with nutrients, and they're the prime rib of the trout world.
I really believe that trout love eggs more than almost any other food, and I suspect they keep looking for eggs long after all the real eggs hatch out into little fish. Think about this: lake anglers use real salmon eggs for bait all summer long, and that's in a time and place with no spawning salmon at all.
Anyway, I kept tossing my egg fly into the seams and hoping for a trout.
A 10-inch cutt whacked the fly after a few minutes of casting, and it peeled a little line off the reel before quitting and head-shaking all the way to the bank.
The fish glowed in the sunlight, and black spots looked like ink on its olive-green back.
I backed out the barbless hook, and the fish darted back out to deeper water. I didn't even have to touch the fish.
I stayed on my knees and felt the current press against my waders and flow around my legs.
I was about to stand up and make another cast when I saw fresh raccoon tracks on the new, sandy bank.
I looked around in the shallow water and found little chunks of crayfish shell and claws.
Lunchtime is a good time to go fishing.
Chester Allen's fishing column appears Fridays in The Olympian. He can be reached at 360-754-4226 or callen@theolympian.com.