A week or so ago we decided to get serious and rent a boat at Griffey. It took a brief wait to launch, and then it was non-stop action. Sebastian was a tiger on the reel, cranking in fish after fish. That crappie is the biggest fish he's ever caught, and, as you can tell by his expression, he had to dig deep to bring it in. After all that, I wonder if he'll ever be content to bank fish again.
The forecast for wild and hatchery summer runs on the Columbia and Snake Rivers are dismal this year - the worst in 34 years, in fact.
This dire prediction for summer steelhead has triggered unease among anglers. As we stare down the barrel of significant restrictions on fishing, steelhead management agencies are working to balance angling opportunity with the need for conservation -- and in particular, to maximize the number of wild B-run steelhead that make it to spawning grounds.
While full-blown closures are unlikely, the path forward will potentially include reductions in fishing cold-water refugia areas, night fishing, and possible changes in gear regulations.
This week, our science director channels Game of Thrones as he walks through the Columbia and Snake River predictions.
Next, we give you the layman's guide to biologist's favorite steelhead acronymns (spoiler alert: there are many), a step-by-step guide to a killer fly and a peek into the new REI film profiling some of our favorite steelhead advocates, Terry and Jerry Myers.
Over the past century the Columbia River was transformed from a brawling frothy beast to a series of long flowing reservoirs. The dams responsible for these changes have allowed us to build cities and farms, provide cheap power and even helped win World War II. But the cost-benefit analysis for these dams is not so rosy when it comes to their effects on salmon, steelhead, and water quality.
For anglers, one of the hardest costs to bear is that the Columbia's legendary wild steelhead runs have struggled to cope with the altered hydrology of the river. This year, forecasts predict very poor returns for summer steelhead in the Columbia with only 1,100 wild B run fish predicted to reach Bonneville Dam.
One of our favorite steelhead advocates, Terry Myers, is profiled in "A Steelhead Quest," a film by Sarah Menzies and Becca Skinner.
Myers, a steelhead advocate and long-time angler, spent 2015 trying to catch a wild steelhead on a different river each month of the year. After successfully hooking a wild steelhead in all but two of the months, she set her sight on finding the last two fish to complete her quest.
Ever feel overwhelmed by all the acronymns in any piece of scientific literature? While some commonly used acronyms are readily understood and recalled, others are more obtuse and challenging - even for seasoned biologists. Follow along as John McMillian, science director for the Wild Steelhead Initiative, translates some of the more common terms.
Dean Finnerty walks us through the steps to tying a stainless steel shank intruder. Over the last decade the "Intruder" style flies have become widely popular. There are as many spin-offs of the intruder fly as there are variations of the traditional hair-wing style steelhead flies.
SAVE BRISTOL BAY from Mark Titus on Vimeo.
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I worked up a cicada imitation this afternoon using what materials I had at hand. I was eager to try it out, so as soon as Kim got home from school I headed for Yellowwood.
It had been raining all day, and it was raining when I got there.
As soon as I kicked out into the lake it quit.
I worked down the shoreline with various flies, on top and down below. I got one or two sniffs from small bluegill.
When I arrived at the place I had caught three bass in a row I tied on the cicada. There were no bass there this time, but on down a ways I put the fly right next to the weed line, as I was doing, and gave it a good twitch or two. There was a swirl and a good take. It was a nice bass. Just what I was looking for. So I wondered: did it think the fly was a cicada? No way to tell, really.
I continued fishing down the shoreline. I plopped the fly next to the weeds and before I could twitch it a fish sucked it in. No splash, no hit, just an efficient, no-nonsense capture of prey. It was a strong fish, and turned out to be the best bass of the year so far.
Now I was thinking that two bass in short order may indeed be an indication that they know what a cicada looks like, they like to eat them, and my fly fooled them. Well, that's what I like to think anyway. It's a relatively simple fly. Black deer hair for the body, black rubber legs, copper crystal flash for the wings, and fluorescent orange thread to give an impression of the red eyes. What I need to improve the fly are some orange legs, red plastic rods for making eyes, and maybe a lighter wing material.
Still, I couldn't be happier with this version's performance.If you tie flies you know the deep satisfaction that comes with getting up from the vise with a fly you designed and tied and going out and catching just the fish you were hoping to catch.
I crossed over to the other side. I had gotten to the lake later than usual, and the heavy overcast would mean early dark, so my time was limited.
I fished the cicada, hoping for more bass, but the bluegill liked it too. It seemed that every other fish would inhale the fly, meaning I would have to take the time to perform surgery with the hemostats.
I finally ran out of time and made the long kick back to the boat ramp. It was full dark when I got there.
Just as I got to the truck and began to load up the rain started again.
The cicadas have come out of the ground and invaded our world. Sebastian and I had seen a few nymphal husks on a tree a week or more ago. Today when I went to load my float tube in the truck I found that the full hatch was underway, and that the tube had been used as a handy launching pad.
I called Sebastian to show him, and we went on a cicada expedition. We found many, many more husks on the porch posts, the shed walls, the bushes and the trees--basically everywhere. There were shoals of husks lying in empty flower beds; the dirt was riddled with emergence holes. We found some dead and dying adults, some with withered wings, one stuck in the husk, and others seemingly in good condition. We picked one up and it fluttered its wings, perhaps just then drying out sufficiently for flight. We left it on a bush. And all the time the lucky ones that had everything go right in their great escape were in the trees overhead sawing away.
Quite a phenomenon.Sebastian was fascinated by it all. He wanted to collect as many husks and dead adults as possible. I picked a small container and fortunately he was satisfied when it was full.
According to some research I did, these are periodical Red Eyed Cicadas. Based on a comparison of the calls and choruses of the three possible species I think these are Magicicada Cassini. They supposedly belong to Brood X (10) and are emerging several years early, which makes them "stragglers."
Brood X stragglers have emerged in Tennessee (around Knoxville), Washington D.C., Virginia (counties around D.C.), Maryland (counties around D.C.), Ohio (around Cincinnati), Delaware, Indiana, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, & New Jersey (around Princeton)! They are chorusing in many locations.
This year precursors to Brood X are emerging or will emerge in small to large numbers in D.C., Delaware, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Maryland, Michigan, Missouri, New Jersey, New York (Long Island), North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, and West Virginia.
Note: because of the significant number of cicadas emerging ahead of time, this might be an acceleration event. Periodical cicada accelerations occur when a significant group of an established brood emerge in years ahead of the main brood, and sometimes the accelerated group are able to reproduce and create what is essentially a new brood.
Wow! A new brood!
Of course, all of this makes me think of fishing.
I have an old Orvis fly that is supposed to be a cicada imitation. It's the last one I have of whatever "brood" it was a part of. I've used it here within the last two weeks and have gotten some bumps from bluegill but no hookups. Maybe the cicada hatch hadn't impacted the lake yet. But now, with cicadas coming out of our ears, I'd like to try again.
I also used this fly in Washington when I lived there. One of the memories I have of the fly is of those Trout Lake trout whacking it so hard it would fly up into the air. And yes, contrary to the notion that cicadas are an exclusively eastern phenomenon, we would always see a few out there in the west around May and June.
Here's a cicada I found floating on Trout Lake one Spring afternoon, and here's the trout that ate that old Orvis fly. That was one of my perfect Trout Lake moments.
I'm also remembering a pretty little film about fishing the cicada hatch on the Green River in Utah. I'll throw that on here as the perfect closing, and when I'm finished watching it again I'll begin thinking about tying up some of the cicada flies they were using--with red eyes.
I came on my own to Griffey Lake and had a lovely evening. It felt like summer. I had found another yellow streamer, and it was as effective as it had been at Yellowwood.
Off the first rocky point as you head north along the west shoreline I found three bass in quick succession. I thought I might have found the glory hole, but that remains an open search.
I added a couple more sunfish species to my catch list with some Pumpkinseeds and Redears. I still miss trout, and I was still looking for that big bass, but the sunfish family does grow on you the more you catch them.
Over the past century the Columbia River was transformed from a brawling frothy beast to a series of long flowing reservoirs. The dams responsible for these changes have allowed us to build cities and farms, provide cheap power and even helped win World War II. But the cost-benefit analysis for these dams is not so rosy when it comes to their effects on salmon, steelhead, and water quality.
One of our favorite steelhead advocates, Terry Myers, is profiled in "A Steelhead Quest," a film by Sarah Menzies and Becca Skinner.
Ever feel overwhelmed by all the acronymns in any piece of scientific literature? While some commonly used acronyms are readily understood and recalled, others are more obtuse and challenging - even for seasoned biologists.
