Fly Fishing the Deschutes River
Article by Tony Bentley
Photo's by Alicia DeMeerleer

The Lower Deschutes River is nested on Oregon's northern border and joins the Columbia after flowing for over a hundred miles of prime trout and steelhead water. The steelhead in the Deschutes are infamous for having behavior much like trout. Fishermen can use the same stone fly nymphing tactics to catch a steelhead as they would a trout. The fish are also more popularly caught with flies skating right on the surface. These fish easily resemble a much larger resident rainbow due to their behavior and average size of five to seven pounds. However, their quantity is what makes this fishery one of the best steelheading in the lower 48.

I was planning this trip for quite a while. Every day I would hear someone talk about how the Deschutes River had the best fishing in years; reports were quite spectacular! The fish count at the Bonneville Dam proved more abundant than in many previous years. There were 14,000 fish by August and the run was not over. They seemed to be working their way up into the Deschutes and people were catching fish. Off I went!

My partner, Alicia, brought plenty of film to make it a worthwhile trip for capturing the moment. She and I have arranged trips like this plenty of times in the past. Most of our trips have been taken through Montana and Idaho and British Columbia in the pursuit of trout. She decided to leave the fly rod at home in order to pack all of her camera equipment and film. Her satisfaction came from my desire to land a fish and to capture those moments.

Our plan was to hike in to Mack's Canyon from the mouth and camp out for 3 nights. I brought my Sage 9' 6" SP and a floating line since the fish were most likely going to be taking flies just under the surface or on the surface. I spent many restless nights tying and organizing gear. Some evenings I would tie half a dozen flies and then lie down to sleep, only to get back up and spend another 2 hours tying a different fly. As we entered the canyon along the trail we noticed motorized boats cruising up and down the river at mach speed. This was quite a curiosity, as I had never experienced that amount of traffic in such a pristine area. This wasn't too much of a concern considering everyone had to leave by nightfall, which is the best time to catch a steelhead.

The temperature the first day must have hit 90 degrees, but luckily for us there was enough shade at the river shore to keep us cool until the sun crept over the horizon and away from the canyon. It was hot enough to warrant a quick break off the trail and do a little fishing along the way. While planning this trip I had heard Bob Margolis remark that he would be hiking up the same day Alicia and I intended on going, but we never made plans to fish or camp out together. However, when we were on the path I noticed a tent just off the trail in the middle of a grass field approximately 40 feet from shore. Someone was walking upstream with a Spey rod and I intercepted him to see if it was Bob. Of course, it was Bob. He appeared very hot in all of his wading gear and I was certain he wanted to get into the water to cool off, so I made sure the conversation was cut short. He asked if I was going to fish and I said I didn't think so. He went on down to the river and I watched him, enjoying his expert casting and mending techniques. It was obvious that he really enjoyed his sport. About 10 minutes later I heard a purr coming down the canyon, and in no time, a boat was flying down the river as fast as the driver could go. Bob was right in the middle of a cast when the boat blasted by him creating a swell that disrupted his cast. After another couple of minutes I decided to go ahead and fish, mostly to cool off and warm up my casting arm. I was located between Bob and his tent, but clearly far enough away to respect Bob's territory. A half hour later I was cool enough to continue on down the trail.

Alicia and I hiked another hour before we found a perfectly shaded spot along a perfect stretch of river. My plan was to set up camp and then head off and fish for the rest of the night. The sun had just crept over the hillside when I stepped into the river and put on my headlamp in case I stayed on the river late enough to need more light to get back to camp. I tied on the staple fly for evening summer steelheading, a #6 green butt skunk. Not just any G.B. Skunk. I used seal for the body and a little polar bear for the wing. The butt was mixed to produce a bright green color, which made the fly very beautiful. I fished for about 30 minutes, while it was still light outside, when the fish struck. I was at the end of my swing on a strong take. The fish immediately ran downstream so I palmed the reel and let him run. It wasn't a giant fish but it was definitely fresh from salt water and a strong fighter. The fish took two runs before I was able to tail it. My partner was doing a great job recording the entire event; at every good moment I would hear the click of her manual Pentax camera. I spent very little time holding the fish, just enough for two or three shots, then back into the water it went. In the back of my mind I was trying to decide if it was small enough for a two-person meal, but I had no intention of keeping it. It was a hatchery fish and I knew that most likely it wouldn't make it to the spawning pool. Nevertheless I didn't want to kill it. After hooking and landing that fish I was satisfied, but I continued to fish the same water below where I had fished previously, although I didn't put much effort into catching another. It was twilight so I headed back to the tent for the evening and where we recapped the events of the day.

The following day we slept in. There was no hurry to get to the river due to boat traffic. The sun was shining by 6am and luckily we were shaded enough to not have to worry about getting up before the tent transformed into an oven. We were packed up and on the trail by 10am and we spent the rest of the morning hiking the trail until we found a perfect camp spot to spend the afternoon and evening. The camp was picture perfect, heavily shadowed by trees, and a nice spot to view the river.

I hiked upstream to a stretch that was just beyond fast water. The current was calm on the sides and swift in the center, which is where I noticed fish porposing. I started at the top at the tail-out and slowly and deliberately worked my way down. I was paying close attention to each cast, mend, and drift. My fly was a pattern that Mike Kinney introduced to me. I would call it a purple muddler, but it was missing a few ingredients and the head was bill shaped rather than the standard cone shape. The fly skated slightly under the surface and, if you raised the rod slightly, it would come right to the surface. My objective was to present the fly into the swift water, mend so that it dead drifted downstream, and then put tension on it for the slow swing. I used a riffle hitch so the fly would show some side profile and to help its action.

My partner was slightly upstream anticipating a hookup right away. I told her to stay within earshot for a while in case I had one. After an hour she told me that she was heading back to the shaded campsite. I continued to use the same method over and over again when I suddenly felt the slightest take. It was as if a minnow hit it and ran, so I did not move downstream, but made the exact same cast to the exact same spot anticipating that it was a steelhead nipping my fly. I was correct in my assumption; it struck quite hard and immediately swam downstream 300 feet. After reeling it all the way back to my feet, the fish instantly ran back downstream another 300 feet. As I reeled it back again I was very surprised to see it make another run downstream. I finally had it in my hands and it was a nice 10-pounder. Of course, the photographer was out of sight, so no photo, but the memory will prevail.

The remainder of the day consisted of the same type of fishing. I worked all of the water I could and even fished certain stretches twice just in case I didn't cover every area correctly. I fished into the evening, but it seemed as if my luck had run out. The next morning we packed up, headed out, and made it to the car by late afternoon. We decided to try our luck a little higher upstream because others were reporting that the fish were congregating above Mack's Canyon.

After driving into Maupin and spending the day listening to fine local Bluegrass, we headed downstream on the gravel road to view what camping was available; however, every site seemed to be full. We drove around, finally noticed a car had just pulled out, and we drove in and grabbed their spot. Camped next to us was a group of middle-aged men who had proudly posted an American flag and a P.O.W. flag. In the beginning they were quite intimidating men, but after talking fishing with them they all warmed up, and in no time I was sitting in one of their lawn chairs with a beer in my hand. It turned out all of these guys were fly fishermen and military friends from the Vietnam War. There was no talk as to why they were congregated together and I assumed they were just enjoying having a weekend together to reminisce and catch up on stories of their lives. We spent the rest of the evening talking and enjoying the hot weather and cold beers. I never did fish that day; I figured my luck was good enough considering people don't usually catch fish on such hot days.

The next day we headed home very satisfied with the outcome of our trip. We caught fish, listened to some good music, met some nice people, and there were no major catastrophes. What more could you ask for? We arrived home on September 13, 2001. We were quite oblivious to the events that were happening outside our own little world while we were enjoying peaceful days on the Deschutes River.

	Green Butt Skunk Hook: TMC 7999 size 4 to 8 Tag: Silver Twist, Fine Tail: Red Bucktail Butt: Highlander green and bright yellow seal Rib: Embossed flat large tinsel Body: Black seal Wing: White polar bear Throat: Black neck hackle
No Photo Available Yet	Purple Muddler Hook: TMC 7989 Body: Pearl Mylar Tinsel wrapped forward and gloss finished (Nail Polish) Wing: Purple squirrel tail Head: Purple deer trimmed flat and round Collar: purple deer left untrimmed on top sparse on bottom