Hypnotized by the Swing

The rhythms of swinging flies for steelhead can be hypnotic.

The soft, steady rumble of the water moving through the run, into the pool and out the tail provides the soothing background music. The repetition of the same, consistent cast permits muscle memory to take over and the mind to slow down. The eyes watch as the white floating line slowly -- even slower than normal as the water is low and clear -- swings downstream until it extends directly beneath the angler. Two steps downstream and the cast and swing are repeated.

The river is empty, except for the floating leaves that drift slowly downstream. The mind follows the leaves. Slow becomes slower. Even the V-shaped wake caused by an unseen steelhead chasing baitfish in the shallow water in the tail of the pool seems to be moving in slow motion.

Did that V turn left toward the fly nearly at the end of its swing? No, the fly is too far away to have caught the steelhead's attention. Wait, is that the line starting to straighten out? Why is that happening? Hold on, the line is peeling off the reel. The reel is spinning fast, but the angler is still moving slow. This is actually helpful as it delays the hook set, as is preferred. The fish has plenty of time to grab and turn downstream before the hook is set. Finally, the rod bends in the shape of "C". Line is still peeling off the reel, its scream echoing off the cliff wall to the angler's back.

Then silence. The rod is straight. The line is slack. The trance is broken. Did that really happen?

Searching for a Swing Partner

Swinging flies at dawn is always more fun with a partner. The partner must be willing to give a tug. This morning the best I could generate was a bump and more than likely that bump was generated by a rock. Rocks can't tug and they certainly don't dance.

The river level on the Rocky was about perfect as the sun rose behind me. Suspended silt in the water gave it a light brown hue and an occasional maple and oak leaf drifting by added some splash of color. A great blue heron let out a blood-curdling shriek before trying to land on the cliff in front of me. Mallards drifted by before flying by. About three quarters of the way down the long pool a fish splashed. It was a big enough splash to be a steelhead, but it could have been a bass or even a sucker.

This was my first outing for steelhead in the fall of 2012. I never expect to catch anything my first time out. And I increased the odds against me by using the spey rod. I changed flies and sink tips until I could get a swing that didn't catch on the shale bottom. With no dance partner available I focused on improving my double spey cast. The practice will come in handy because soon there will be more potential partners in the rivers of Steelhead Alley.

Seeking Salmon on the Muskegon

Muskegon River in Newaygo, Mich.

On Thursday morning, Sept. 20, I walked down to the Muskegon River, which is at least 30 yards wide as it flows through the small town of Newaygo, Michigan. I carried my spey rod and the hope that there might be a few salmon in the river. The helpful folks at Parsley’s Sport Shop had warned me that the drought and heat of the summer had delayed the salmon run and it was unlikely I’d bump into many fish, so the hope I carried was more like wishful thinking. As I stood on a wooden deck overlooking the river I admired the multi-hued hillside across the water and listened to the flow rush by. There are three great sounds in life. A basketball swishing through the net, a beer can opening at dawn on the walleye opener and the ripple and rush of water flowing past.

I walked around the deck, down the small ledge and into the crystal clear water. This was my inaugural visit to the Muskegon so I have no frame of reference, but I’d say the tailwater was at the “low and clear” stage. No other anglers were in sight. I tied on an intruder style fly and started the slow process of exploring the river’s runs and pools.

Two hours later I returned to my car, removed my fishing gear, put the spey rod back in its tube and headed north. No fish. No signs of fish. But I got in some good spey casting practice. And I learned that the Muskegon is a beautiful, big river that will be worth returning to some year (but not this year) when the salmon are in.

One Fish, Spey Fish

Not the best shot, but it will do.

The head shake brought the 12’ 6’’ spey rod to life. The tip bounced up and down as the steelhead pulled against the pressure. The leverage provided by the extra long fly rod gave me a much larger advantage than the standard 10-footer, and after a few runs and rolls on the surface, the five-pound fish came to the bank. A six-inch-long black articulated leach fly with silver flash hung from its lower lip.

The steelhead was the first fish of 2012, and the first fish hooked on a swung fly this season. I’m still less than a beginner with the spey rod, which I bought a few years ago at the annual banquet of the Trout Club of the Cleveland Natural History Museum, . One lesson with Will Turek, a few years back taught me that spey casting is dramatically different, but not exceptionally difficult. About one of out of five casts today were respectable. The rhythm of creating a good anchor and using the lower hand to do more of the work improved slowly.

I’m still developing a sense of where the fly is as it swings through the pool. The high water required me to wade deeper than I’d like to get the fly into the heart of the run. The 35-degree water pulled the head out of my body and made concentrating on the casting more difficult. But a steelhead on the end of the line will always warm you up. The steelhead hit about 20 minutes into fishing the long pool. No other fish would show themselves in a little more than two hours of swinging flies through the pool and the run below it.

Swinging big flies usually doesn’t produce as many fish as dead-drift nymphing, but it’s a fun change of pace and hopefully I’ll continue to progress with the spey rod this spring.

Spey Sucker

The lack of rain gave me an excuse to break out the spey rod and practice some casting on the Rocky River. I was too lazy to make the trek to the Grand River, perhaps the only river with enough water to make it worth fishing.

Casting went better than expected considering I hadn't cast the rod in several months. Hopefully there will be some real rain sometime soon and we'll get the long-awaited fall run of fish.

The lack of water today left the steelhead nowhere to hide and they chose the lake over the river.

I was surprised mid-morning by a small sucker, which hit the minnow fly. Not what I was hoping for, but it was a fish nonetheless.

Breaking Out the Spey Rod

Today I started a new chapter in my fly fishing journey -- a chapter called Spey. Last spring I bought a two-handed Spey rod made by St. Croix at the Trout Club Banquet. But I never put it to use and it sat in the basement all summer and fall. Right before Christmas I finally got my large arbor St. Croix reel rigged up with a Skagit line thanks to the folks out at the Backpackers Shop.

I booked a half-day Spey casting lesson with Will Turek for next Saturday and will encouraged me to give the rod a try before the lesson. So after hooking several steelies this morning the old fashioned way, I hiked back to the car, rigged up the Spey rod and headed back to the run. I have watched enough You Tube videos to get a rough idea of the basic Spey cast -- which starts with a simple roll cast and then gets a lot more complicated.

The run I fished is a wide, but shallow stretch of the Rocky River, featuring some gravel, boulders and left turn in the current. A few male steelhead were actively cruising behind a two female spawners, and I thought it would provide an entertaining way to break out the Spey. It really is a mistake to try and learn how to cast while fishing. One should simply learn to cast first, and then fish. But being the impatient soul that I am, I did both at the same time ... with predictable results. I casted weakly and hooked nothing on the swing. I did manage some decent roll casts and worked on my D loops and repositioning the line. I got comfortable enough that I look forward to the session with Will to really learn what to do.

I did manage to hook two fish -- one fair and one foul -- by using the Spey as a giant nymphing rod. Sadly, I discovered the St. Croix reel jams up when spinning in response to a steelehead swimming north as fast as a rocket... May have to buy a new reel...

More on the education of a Spey fisherman in the future.

The Rocky dipped below 500 cfs this afternoon, before rising again thanks to the steady rain. Sure do hope we can fish some the next few weeks.