Went down to the local river, and lone behold is full of every sort of steelheader imaginable. You have plunkers, fly-guys, drift fishermen, float fishermen, hardware tossers, dudes on bank, dudes in boats, and plainly put... just too many dudes.

 After swinging spoons and tossing pink worms on a good little stretch of water that should have took me 30 minutes to cover, yet took an hour due to the freezing temperatures.... I was left at a boat launch looking at a raft being put in and a fisherman plunking to his hearts' desire. So these two things pretty much narrowed my options for this river. I watched the plunker keep on doing his thing for a bit, watched the raft fisherman set up on the next hole downstream and thought I seen someone bouncing around in between the two of them. Worked my way down a bit and sure enough there is a guy scooting around in the water between my two obstacles. I work a seam for a short bit and look up and there is 5 or so guys crossing the railroad bridge that I was unsure of crossing myself. And after they settle in on what looks like a sweet piece of water I see a guy take the lead like a champ.

 This guy who takes the lead rigs himself up a float and jig, settles into the sweet spot of the run and is obviously the leader of this group. Completely outfitted with sweet waders.... I presume Dan Baileys, a nice rain-proof jacket and just looks the part of Washington Elite Steelheader. And this guy has a striking similarity to a man who go's by Sky-Guy. Sure looks like him, I know that much and this river is not a far stretch for a guy who go's by the internet handle Sky-Guy. Is this a PP Mod sighting? Not sure, yet I was half tempted to throw on my Seattle Sombrero and grab a Busch beer and yell across the river I'm coming over and if I got "Todd? Is that you?" I would have known.

 After this bunch of bs, I decided to take my sweet rig and run on downstream and fiddle around until I find a spot that looks a lot less crowded. First stop?

 Wallace mouth - 13 rigs and another 6 scattered about on the road for a minimum of 18 fishermen and one tweaker breaking into the rigs. This noise is pitiful, I am two seconds from calling it a day and driving home. Texts come through a couple times telling me to abandon ship and shoot on over to a different river, yet I am not driving all the way over there for a couple hour fishing trip.

 And then I see it, my zipperhole..... awwwww, it is empty today. Park the rig, no new footprints? Well this seems promising. River is tiny though, never seen it this low and that concerns me. Start with the old stand-by, with absolutely no results. This river is just plain old barren so far, no trout, no salmon, no steelhead, not even any bugs.

 Splash!

 Something is tucked up beneath some cutbank on the other side so I start tossing a mini pink worm and sure enough I yard out a belly hooked chum, spawned out and just not having a good time now. Quickly release it and realize there is chum in here, just so happens they look pretty spawned out.



 As the sun goes down I upsize my offering to a full fledged 4 inch pink worm and start marching back to the rig. Cast after cast and nothing, throughout the day I have seen a lot of chum salmon scattered about and most of them are on their beds. Yet I keep on casting into the seam looking for that one lone hatchery steelhead that is going to eat my worm.

 Line tight, set hook, head shake, roll, jump. It's a pink worm eating chum, and this fish is a bit upset. Is it foul hooked? No, it looks legit. What? Well I guess it makes sense, and then I realize chum eat pink worms. This fish put up quite a good battle, and the hook was properly ate. I couldn't believe it, well I learned that chum eat pink worms.

 And when I reached my honey hole on this river at the end of the day and heard a splash ten feet to my left at just about dark and the only fish that would be in there would be a hatchery steelhead that would have been hiding the earlier part of the day.... I learned to always remember where you are on a river. If I would have just thought about it on the way back I could have placed a pink worm in that hole before the fish would have even know I was there.

Sent from my iPhone

Begin forwarded message:

> From: James Wyatt
> Date: November 9, 2011 3:14:52 PM PST
> To: "journal.tripleduboutdoors.com@myqbc.mobi"
> Subject: Changes To Website
>
> Soon you will begin to see several changes with the tripleduboutdoors.com website. I am not going to be going too much into this at the moment, this is just a test of one of the features in actuality. So stay tuned for a great season. BigJim of Tripleduboutdoors.com

The Carbon River Derby, it was dreamed up in an irc board by three morons. It was doomed from the go, we gained recognition for nothing special, attracted undue attention and more or less couldv'e been fishing on the Peninsula or something more fruitful. Big J's said we didn't have permission to do our event at their store, yet the man in charge of the fishing department did say we did. So sorry Big J, we are sorry we didn't clear it with you the owner. We did like your plans for a derby on the exact same day for half the price though, that's classy. And thank you to the City of Orting for making it cost money to park, yet not providing a place to buy the permit that weekend. A+ in my books. Now for the Derby report.

 With two hours of sleep under my belt, I got up at 5 am and started driving towards Orting, around 6 am I started calling the people I was supposed to meet at 7. I can't get a hold of anyone except Panic and he says he will be there. I finally get a hold of Earl, and he is shithoused from the night before.... completely obliterated still... and he remarks that he will be there soon. Cool, at least both those guys will be on time. Where is Chan, where is this guy and why isn't he showing? Chan was up til 1 am being a raging alcoholic on irc, nice.

 So finally, Panic shows up and he brought Cousin Negro and some Random Fuck. Cousin Negro is still the same as ever, Random Fuck is just random.... I don't have any idea who this dude is. And Panic looks like an Asian Aborigine, yet he is here and he did what he said he would so good on him.  Chan finally shows up, and I'm like fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, the parking is screwed guy where are we going? So we all head our separate ways to find parking.

 Finally, we are on the river and it is time to crack a beer, I already had 2 Monster Energy Drinks, and 2 hours of sleep so beer sounds good. I finish 1 16 oz. MGD, 1 MGD, the champagne of beers and I am buzzed like no ones business. El Chicano is calling me looking for directions and finally he reaches Chan and I. We get ready to cross the river so El Chicano starts digging through his duffel bag. Who brings a duffel bag fishing? Anyways he is going through it, and inside is a laptop computer he forgot to take out after some dock fishing.

 Well, time to cross the river I guess.

 Half way across the river, I am wobbly..... real wobbly. The lack of sleep, the energy drinks and the 1 beer have gotten to me. I can't cross. We have to find a better spot, and by better I mean somewhere a baby could cross.

 1 beer and I couldn't cross the river, that is lame.

 So we go down a bit and find a better spot and start heading across, I am tailing Chan and El Chicano(who is carrying a laptop in a duffel bag). And I get a text, I think I'll just check on it when I get across and then....

SPLASH

 Look behind me and there is Earl, shithoused and lurching through the river. He shakes my hand and moves past me to Chan. He gets all excited a pops fives boners, for someone he has never met is here. Big dick in his pants he goes to shake Chans' hand and does so with vigor and is so happy he knocks Chan into the water. Chan comes up scrambling for his phone, and its wet. Way to get a big dick Earl, can't control yourself like you are some 5 month old black lab running around popping boners and trying to hump everything.

 We begin fishing and Cousin Negro hooks a fish first off, then Earl, then Chan,and then Panic. Earls' fish is big for a Carbon River pink, it is nice. I tell him he better bonk it even know its' a buck. He does bonk it and leaves the guts inside, need them guts for the derby. Panic hooks a fish and its' nice but isn't big enough to beat Earls. I asshook a pink, as does Chan and they are both safely released. El Chicano hooks a pink brings it all the way up onto the bank and by the time I realize the hook has popped out of its' mouth and the fish is wriggling for safe water I am straddling it and it slips between my legs.

 Finally AngryJohnny shows up, and he has a cast on his arm. He can't really fish, yet at least he brought his woman with him like a good little boy. Chan and I split off from Earl, Panic, AngryJohnny and his woman. And El Chicano splits from all of us and mopes along to his house, not before asking to buy Earls' fish so at least he doesn't go home in shame with no fish.

 Chan and I, head downstream to meet up with the Secret Agent Man, and this reclusive ass dude has already landed two fish in an hour. Chan and him bullshit for a second and I am just like this fucking sucks. This water sucks, this day sucks it is almost time for the weigh-in and this is lame. So Chan and I head back to the other dudes and Earl is the only one left. Everyone left him and he is just standing on the bank fishing a sweet run. Chan, Earl and I finish off the day in this run, this is not before Chan and I see some idiot pull a belly hooked native king up on the bank. This guy is screaming let it go, its a nate. And proceeds to look at it as it wallows in the sand. Him and his buddies finally disgorge the octopus hook( I presume) out of its belly. Then they decide its' picture time and the guy proceeds to fumble it at least two times on the rocks before he takes a sweet pic of it out of the water. At the end of the day I drag a fish up on the bank and that pretty much is enough for me.

 Time to hit McPukes, and we do. Get some food, go to the weigh-in and Earl, Chan and I are the only ones there except for Angie the Fishing Goddess who so graciously said she would judge the whole thing for us. We all bs for a second, Earls fish is bigger than everyone elses. Only four total fish were entered out of 20 or so contestants.

 In all reality the thing was a complete disaster, yet it was a disaster with good people and we had a lot of fun. More sleep wouldv'e been nice on my part and if the fish were actually in and biting in numbers that would have been nice as well.

 Thanks to Chan at Fishchan.com,Todd at Rvrfshr, Angie the Fishing Goddess, all the contestants and people who helped throw the thing. It was fun, lets not do it again.

 

Waking up in the morning with steelhead on your mind is quite normal for a dbag like me. I on the other hand had dolly varden on my mind and steelhead so I was doubly ready.

Got as far up this old road I could possibly take my vehicle and started marching on, I was in Sasquatch country as well as cougar and bear country so I was well prepared. With a loaded backpack, waistpack, full wader setup, spoon box, camera gear, and fishing pole I was ready to get out and enjoy this 70 degree day.

 Every hole I came to was just not that great, no bank access or little bank access seemed to not coincide with my preferred method of hardware banging. Lots of good spots would have been much better with lower water, yet this was still melt off due to our late summer this year. So on to the next hole happened, and happened.


 Five miles in, maybe four casts so far and now I am shooting down a side trail towards the river, it looks a little hairy and I got my knife in hand for the epic knife vs. claw battle I am prepared for. Then suddenly a mosquito bites me...... and another one.... and another one. I am in a mosquito storm with three different directions to go, I'm spinning around, running around and this is my sudden Blair Witch moment. These things are everywhere, I hadn't ran into mosquitoes all day and now I'm in what could be described as a spinning storm of vampire bugs set on sucking my blood til I crumple into a withered mass of faulty fishing gear and meat. I do break away and was able to keep my bearings and decided enough was enough, if I can't find a good stretch for five miles then I better just suck it up and head back. Picking at the pockets I spotted on the way up I realize the water has dropped since I came through and it looks decent enough. Spot after spot doesn't yield results, I do watch a trout chase my spoon out of a hole from up top yet this isn't worth the fives miles hiked so far.


 After several hours, I can barely walk from the blisters on my heels, I am drenched from neck to toes in sweat, covered in mosquito bites and at my car.

 Oh wait, that first stretch I designated as last hole by my car. Might as well give it a go. And after a small lunch I do. I realize my line is about 75 ft. long, after a full day of hiking and barely casting I now have to respool my line from a snag earlier in the day. A few casts and nothing, so down a dried up side channel I walk gleaning the ground for footprints and I see cougar, bear and deer tracks. Surveying my surroundings was quickly done and casting spoons was started again. I have one tap tap tap in the seam, great.... probably just a trout.... not even a dolly. Cast back and oh look what we have here? A trout, looks like he was good to go so I let him spit the hook before I have to touch him. Started casting upstream with a spinner and it is banging bottom while I am reeling and I get a solid takedown. Probably a dolly, I doubt a snag, either way it felt like a dolly and when I set my hook it comes back blank. That's about all I can take and off to the car I go.

 Lessons learned.

• Don't overpack on a summer trip.
• There isn't always better water right around the corner.
• Having a go to end of day spot is really nice after a skunk.

Well the first Bi-Annual Carbon River Pink Open is in registration phase, we will be fishing humpies or humpys whichever you may call them on the Carbon River for a cash prize. The fish will not be weighed, instead they will be measured to figure out the weight. All the rules are on the registration page. If you are interested in winning a prize for catching a pink salmon then enter this.

So big nasty fire engine red sperm-chucking coho get yer' blood pumpin'? This is the video for you. Fish measured 35x20 and equaled approximately 18 lbs. Fish released to make baby coho.

 Well BigJim decided he had a couple hours to fish, and seeing as the tidewater was close to his location he went tidewater spooning. Spooning, one of my favorite past times (and yes I just referred to myself in the third person the BigJim enjoys doing this at times) can be done in several different ways. In search of the first humpie of the year I took a fellow we will call Sasquatch with me. We casted spoons in the lower Snohomish for a couple hours and had no hookups. As we were calling the day Sasquatch saw a nice bright fish which he thought was a steelhead porpoise out of the water. The trip was a relief to be on the water and there was no humpies yet, and all Sasquatch saw was a lowly steelhead yet the trip was worth the time.

 Oh Pink Salmon, the scourge of every internet fishermen in the state of Washington.

 Let me reword that last remark.

 Oh Pink Salmon, the internet fishermen who talk trash about you will be fishing for you with fervor and playing it off as you are the scourge of the Puget Sound.


 Garbage, rotting pinks, ass-snagged pinks, corkies and yarn, guided pink trips, beer cans, dirtbags, simms wearing elitists, hillbillies, rivers plugged with fish and fishermen. Pinks bring out all of this and more in Puget Sound. If you live in the Puget Sound region and are a fishermen a high percentage of you will be on a pink-choked river, many will deny it though.

 Out of the six million forecasted pinks back to the Puget Sound, I am attempting to be the first person to catch a pink salmon in a river in 2011 and brag about it on the internet forums. Someone will probably catch one before me..... they more than likely won't brag about it though. BigJim on the other hand is attempting to be the Herzog, Vedder, or the Todd of pink fishing. With no steelhead left in the Puget Sound, chum taking a hit on the chin from commercial fishermen, and king and coho stagnantly flailing about, you are left with the underdogs - the pink salmon.

 Pink salmon are the new steelhead, they are flourishing and abundant just as steelhead were before most anyone who would read this POS blog was born. They have filled the niche, where most other species fell, the pink salmon has filled their empty spots. It would be beautiful to see all the species reach their historic levels and be quite stable, probably not happening soon though. So we are left with numerous pink salmon that come in every odd year to throw the elitists into a tizzy, the dirtbags into a blood frenzy, and make every other person you meet into an expert salmon fishermen.

 With six million pinks coming back, BigJim may have a chance at one of them. If it happens to be the first one he caught this year and not a single person has said anything about catching one, you will see the internet fishing forums turn into a pink mess. That is my quest, my Pink Quest.

 Seeing as fishing is not my job, I haven't been able to get out on the water since the June 1st opener on the Skykomish. Ten days later though the river was all mine, and we are not talking the Skykomish. Woke up semi-early, rustled around the house for a good hour trying to get my bearings and off I went to the world-famous Zipperlip River.

 Oh the Zipperlip. I love this river, it is not flooded with yahoos, garbage, or fishermen. It has pristine habitat, did not see one fishermen all day, and to top it off it has a few fish in it. The water was high, yet the visibility was around 2 feet and maneuvering the river was a nightmare. Seen a lot of water that looked good, yet as always it was best accessible from the other side.



 Did eventually find a long gravel bar that was as featureless as they come and looked perfect for spooning. Problem with this gravel bar was to access it I had to hike through a clear cut that was near vertical, and the mountainside above me was full of predators. The problem didn't end there though, as I would then have to meander through a overgrown creek full of bear to the main river. I have to admit at first I chickened out. I went to find an alternate route, yet the alternate routes were more hairy then the original choice. Eventually I manned up and thought of a few fishermen I know and knew they would do it, so careening down the hill I went.
 That stretch did not produce a single tug, there was no fish in that stretch that would bite at least. Too early in the year, too high of water and these two things just don't make for great fishing. Early in the day hooked a couple of twin rainbows, or they were the same fish as they were almost back to back  out of the same stretch. Released the fish both times, and really wanted to see that fish come back as a full grown steelhead.

 The season has started for most summer steelheaders in Washington state, and the TripleDub Outdoors Team has yet to even hit the water. So while we wait for the right opportunity to go hit the water, I made up a plan of sorts.

 1. Exploring new water, and new watersheds as most of the rivers we ventured to last summer did not produce the numbers we were looking for.
 2. Trying new techniques, such as fly-fishing for humpies, and sockeye.
 3. Catch a humpie in July at latest.
 4. Plan a Summer River Clean-Up
 5. Become more active in local clean-ups.
 6. Find the fabled Summer Chum, and document it.
 7. Catch a summer King Salmon.
 8. Document pools of summer steelhead.
 9. Catch a Dolly Varden/Bull Trout 25 inches or longer.
 10. Just have fun.

 This is really kind of an irrelevant post, as the whole point of this summer is number 1 and number 10 in that list. If any of the others do happen, then that's a bonus.