A Weekend On The Queets - Part 1: Fish Edition

Urban Outcast Music Discovery, Song #3, When You Get To Asheville by Steve Martin, Eddie Brickell, and the Steep Canyon Rangers (Its that Steve Martin on the banjo, talent is not spread equally in this world...)

I remember when my middle brother and I were young we would prove our toughness to a new babysitter by seeing who could hit their head on the wall with the most enthusiasm (very young is the only excuse I have). That persistent lack of sense and early brain trauma are probably why I could not give up on catching fish on the Queets this year. Even worse, I invited Kat to dedicate a three day weekend to the pursuit. We loaded up the Forester and headed to the Olympic Peninsula for what was probably the last camping trip before the rain really gets going.

Friday: 

We set up the gear at Kalaloch campground with the sound of the surf in the background. Not much to say other about the fishing other than that familiar sense of failure was back...

Saturday:

I figured the morning river scene would be a zoo so we spent most of the day sightseeing along the coast (Part 2: Beach Edition). The first couple hours of fishing more of the same but a herd of elk across the river provided some eye candy and bugling.

Looking for any sort of action led me to climb onto a log jam that consistently shelters coho from my lures. While not the most stable place to fish from it turned out to be exactly the right move and I quickly had a fish on! Somehow she managed to twist the line around her gills several times and I think this actually kept her subdued so the fight was quick and the skunk smell was banished.

After filling out the paperwork and getting Kat set up on the same lure it took only two casts to figure out just how lucky I was to land that first fish. Fish #2 is larger and significantly more pissed off, pulling in every direction and with such power that I am sure the line is being wrapped in a cats cradle pattern through the submerged logs. The only thing that saved me were the good Samaritans in the drift boat who rowed back upriver to get the net assist. At 12.5 pounds, it was the biggest coho I have ever landed.

The redneck fishing payoff!

All the excitement also brought Kat onto the logs but we didn't land anymore takers that evening.

Sunday:

Turns out mornings on the river are absurd. I can't blame anyone for wanting to be on the river but the fleet of drift boats were thicker than anything I had imagined. We walked in at first light and boats were anchored in all of my favorite haunts so we headed down to the bluff hole. Then the craziest thing happened... I suggested a small tweak to Kat's spinner strategy and on the very next cast there is another very irate coho on the line (2x guide points)! Kat has already collected bass and crappie this year but it would have taken about 40 of those fish to equal the power of her current adversary. 

Time slows with all the excitement but I am pretty sure Kat's forearms would agree that it was at least a 10 minute fight. Luckily the barbless hook held and Kat landed her first salmon!! We didn't have the drift boat's scale but it was another coho hen (a two hander). We got to witness a couple monster native kings landed and released but too quickly it was time to hike out and pack up the campsite. On the way home we met Sensei on the Humptulips to fish and make a deposit of four pounds of salmon eggs into the bait bank.

The Queets closed on October 1st but already looking forward to next year... its going to be epic!