Fly Fishing Small Steelhead Streams

Doug with hatchery Steelhead. 

Small streams are usually less crowded, challenging to fish and can often provide surprising results. 

Fly Fishers sometime pass up the opportunity to fish small streams for numerous reasons. They might believe that large migratory fish normally prefer larger rivers, or that fish are spookier and harder to catch, or that they can’t move up stream in shallow water. However, I have seen large salmon and steelhead move rapidly up a riffle on their sides that was barely three or four inches deep.

Stalking fish in small streams requires a stealthy approach because fish can be easily spooked. But, if the angler wades quietly, wears drab clothing that blends into the environment and keeps a low profile, fish will not be alarmed. Learning to spot fish in shallow water can also be a very effective method.

Here are two small stream fish stories:

The first story took place when I was fishing a small tributary of the Clackamas River. It was not more than ten feet wide, and in most places it was at best three feet deep throughout the entire creek. I was fishing for trout using a small tied down caddis and had caught a few six- to eight-inch trout. I had the whole river to myself and was enjoying the solitude when I was suddenly shocked out of my euphoric state. I had made a delicate cast behind a moss covered rock when a five-pound steelhead took the fly aggressively and barreled down river. I tried to stumble after it, but the fish got the better of me and serrated my two-pound leader. This event generated my interest in fishing small streams.

The next story happened on the Oregon Coast, which has many streams that can also provide some unexpected action. My friend Dave and I hiked in a quarter mile through tall brush and blackberries bushes to fish the Necanicum River, noted for steelhead and sea-run cutthroat. It was cluttered with log jams, thick brush and overhanging trees which closely guarded the streams pools, riffles, pocket water and gentle glides. A few nice cutthroat would have satisfied the day, but on my sixth cast the first pool provided some unexpected action. My line stopped and I instinctively lifted the rod and watched a large steelhead exploded out of the water. The fish began to make erratic surges and jumps as I strained to get it under control. Dave was filming and shouting instructions as I fought the fish. Fortunately, it stayed in the pool and after seven or eight minutes I landed a 12- to 14-pound hatchery steelhead. It took a # 6 orange Glo Bug.

Steelhead Mania

Sandy River Winter Steelhead Run

I was winter Steelhead fishing below Gordon Creek on Oregon’s Sandy River. It was a typically cold January day, and if you wanted to get a prime location, you had to hike in a few hundred yards in the dark. My dad and I were in luck one morning and managed to get a good drift to fish. Just as it broke daylight, my dad hooked a heavy fish and fought it for almost 10 minutes. Finally, he played it out and beached an 18 or 20 pound Chinook salmon. However, it was a dark fish so he quickly released it.

Suddenly, we heard someone yell above us, but heavy brush obstructed our view. Then the shouts got closer. I waded out a short distance and saw a good sized Steelhead jump, but I couldn’t see anyone on the bank playing it. I was somewhat curious until I saw an angler floating down the river with a fish on. Incredibly, he was thrashing in the water and reeling madly trying to get control of it.

My dad was concerned and yelled, “Hey fella, swim over to the bank so we can help you.”

As he floated past us, the guy was totally immersed in his quest and he shouted back, “How big is it? I know it’s gotta be at least 20 pounds!”

My dad just shook his head and said, “It’s amazing what some guys will do to try to catch a fish." For the record, this angler eventually lost the fish and fortunately didn’t drown.

A similar situation occurred on the Deschutes River. An avid fisherman had hooked a Steelhead that got hung up on a rock. After repeatedly trying to unhook the fish, he handed his rod to a friend, stripped down to his skivvies, and swam out to try and free it. The river’s current was too strong, so he swam back in to collect his wits. He was staunchly resolute, so he made another attempt. This time he successfully untangled the snag and swam back with the fish. Both the fish and this persistent angler were totally played out.

Reinforcing Peacock Herls

Peacock herls are not as durable as other body materials, and after catching and releasing a number of fish the herls can begin to fray and tear from the body. There are several ways to make them last longer. Here is one that I prefer. 

Step 1

Step 1. Tie in 2-3 peacock herls near the bend of the hook and make a dubbing loop approximately as long as the herls. Remember to forward the fly tying thread after making the loop.

Step 2

Step 2. Place the herls within the loop and grasp it at the bottom with the hackle pliers. Then spin the noodle until a tight loop is formed.

Step 3

Step 3. Wrap the noodle forward to build the body and complete the fly.

An alternate method is to wrap thread, tinsel, copper wire or hackle around the peacock body to strengthen and prevent it from fraying. However, some anglers prefer not to protect the body believing that when the fly becomes ragged and untidy it works better since it looks more like a real bug. My own experiences support the latter. I have had some of my best luck when my fly was ripped to shreds with only a few strands of herl and wing remaining.