Urban Outcast Music Discovery, Song #2, Capsized by Andrew Bird - https://youtu.be/2Y5rqUYDl1U (put this one on repeat, there is a novel below)
There is one river in all of Washington that has been consistently kind to me. I can't remember a visit to the Queets where I did not make the long walk back to the car with my two coho salmon, sore shoulders, and a watchful eye for bears following the scent trial I was dragging through the ferns. As a bonus, the Queets sits in the Olympic National Park so you are sharing the river with more elk than fellow fisherfolks. I have been looking forward to the opening day since the river had an emergency closer last year.
Opening Day:
September 1st was not the sunny, lounge on the riverbank kinda trip I would hope for to start the Olympic season. We arrived to the water pre-rinsed but optimistic... this is the Queets! The salmon were flopping around in swarms and tales of glory for the blog were already half written.
He may have bonked his head because he could only make right hand turns. Even dazed, it was shocking how much power a big fish can muster. Outweighing him 15:1 didn't mean crap... but eventually I got him down to the bluff hole to hopefully recover in peace. Surfer Dude was around the bend and missed the salmon rodeo so we also snapped a victory shot with Sensei as he is the professional prankster. Sensei hammered us as failures for the hike back, the long ride of shame home, and at work the next day before finally letting Surfer Dude in on the joke. We fell off Surfer Dude's trust wagon but it was worth it!
The day would have ended in complete failure but a redneck connection came through for me. After getting tired of failing in solitude I moved back towards the mouth of the Salmon River to watch everyone else strike out. Turned out there were two good old boys across from me who had just figured out the right combination of lure, location, and technique of the day to start pulling in fish. We traded notes across the water but I could never replicate their success.
There is one river in all of Washington that has been consistently kind to me. I can't remember a visit to the Queets where I did not make the long walk back to the car with my two coho salmon, sore shoulders, and a watchful eye for bears following the scent trial I was dragging through the ferns. As a bonus, the Queets sits in the Olympic National Park so you are sharing the river with more elk than fellow fisherfolks. I have been looking forward to the opening day since the river had an emergency closer last year.
Opening Day:
September 1st was not the sunny, lounge on the riverbank kinda trip I would hope for to start the Olympic season. We arrived to the water pre-rinsed but optimistic... this is the Queets! The salmon were flopping around in swarms and tales of glory for the blog were already half written.
Initially, in my hubris, I thought keeping wild fish off the line was going to be the biggest impediment to a full cooler. Turns out we had bigger problems... Four hours in and with only three quickly lost fish to mourn, it was time to change tactics: so I caught the wild coho below with my bare hands.
He may have bonked his head because he could only make right hand turns. Even dazed, it was shocking how much power a big fish can muster. Outweighing him 15:1 didn't mean crap... but eventually I got him down to the bluff hole to hopefully recover in peace. Surfer Dude was around the bend and missed the salmon rodeo so we also snapped a victory shot with Sensei as he is the professional prankster. Sensei hammered us as failures for the hike back, the long ride of shame home, and at work the next day before finally letting Surfer Dude in on the joke. We fell off Surfer Dude's trust wagon but it was worth it!
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| Redacted - Top Secret |
Day 2:
It was hard to imagine that my lack of luck could hold so I bolted back up to the river to quickly catch my fish and make it back in time to participate in my cousin's pre-wedding festivities. Should have known better... Four hours in and again all I have to show for my efforts are pictures of water and trees:
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Their first, last fish of the day slipped the hook on dry land and with both man and fish flopping in the shallows it managed to escape. I offered the appropriate sad commiseration while secretly regretting that I didn't catch it on video. While trying to land their last fish of the day again, they hooked into fish simultaneously and managed to land both. Pity is a powerful tool and my hound dog face inspired my new best friends to suggest a plan that I found inspired. We snagged our fishing lines so that they could pull my line across and wrap up the big buck they couldn't keep.
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| 4.5 pounds of fillets and a carcass for crab bait! |
Day 7:
A comprehensive failure so complete that I canceled my Day 8 trip... Tough to feel bad with constantly rising salmon reminding you that the next cast could bring glory but it was time to head home to regroup and plot for next week!
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| A big bull and his harem on the hike in |