First Dry-Fly Stelie
To many, the idea of catching a steelhead on a dry fly is the pinnacle of all coldwater fishing. One of North America’s top gamefish…taken on a wad of feathers and glue…on the surface—it just doesn’t get a whole lot better than that! But it doesn’t happen every day. In fact, some steelheaders dedicate their entire lives to the pursuit and never get the satisfaction of watching a big sea-going rainbow come up and take the fly.
Since I don’t fly-fish for steelhead very often, I’m almost ashamed to say that I have had the pleasure of catching one on a dry. And it was kind of a fun story…
The tale took place many moons ago in Oregon with the fine editor of this publication and our mutual pal Big Fred Contaoi and it was one of those days that just seemed like a fairy tale. The three of us hooked close to 40 steelhead on small nymphs under indicators, and the day was highlighted by some crazy moments like a triple header on flies and when I hooked three steelhead on three consecutive casts—three separate times!
It was one of those amazing, magical days when you feel like you can do no wrong and the hours just whiz by. Right before dark Nick asked me if I’d like to try to catch a steelie on a dry. He said he had a special flat where it was a possibility and I just immediately knew that it was going to happen.
So, we waded out to the sweet spot and he pointed to a rock near the far bank where Nick said steelies sometimes held. As I plopped the first cast out into the run, he warned me to not set the hook if a fish hit the fly…until I felt the weight as it was on the way back down to the bottom with it.
“Dude…I guide topwater striper trips for about 6 months a year and it’s the same concept,” I said. “Plus, I’ve caught a zillion stream trout on dries. Don’t worry about me…”
Well, none of that prepared me for what happened when I saw a three-foot-long rosy-cheeked leviathan slowly rise to the surface. It calmly sucked my fly down and then it seemed like it took forever for that freckled green back to disappear beneath the water.
Of course I panicked and jerked the fly right away from him! I must have been such a pitiful sight…standing there in the failing light of the canyon, a bewildered look on my face and about 10 loose coils of fly line draped around my shoulders and neck.
“Get yourself together, man, and make another cast before it’s too dark,” said Fred.