Winter Steelhead Flies That Work, Simms Bulkley Jacket,
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Winter Steelhead Flies
Simms Bulkley Jacket
Great Lakes Steelhead
|Winter Steelhead Flies That Work|
Matt Sherman, a professional fly fishing guide discloses all you need to
know about winter steelhead flies. See what colors and sizes you need.
Click here for the most proven collection of Winter Sheelhead Flies on the net.
|Simms Bulkley Jacket|
This is the best all around fall/winter/spring jacket to come out of the
fly clothing industry in years! We first tested this garment during a
late season tuna trip off the mouth of the Columbia River during one of
those days when the waves were big enough to slosh spray over the roof
of the cabin. After a full day the Bulkley Jacket showed no leaks and
the puffy insulation kept us perfectly warm. The big roomy cargo pockets
were totally handy, as were the hand warmer pockets too. This jacket
will find favor when going to your favorite winter steelhead river, and
also to and from the office.
Simms Bulkley jacket combines a GORE-TEX® 2-layer shell, with the innovative all-weather insulation of PrimaLoft® One technology. River-inspired features include corrosion-fighting Nylon YKK® zippers and sliders, super-sized chest and fleece lined hand-warmer pockets, and the water-resistant convenience of easy-cinch cuffs.
|10176-001-20||Simms Bulkley Jacket, black with orange lining||S||$279.95||Sale Ended|
|10176-001-30||Simms Bulkley Jacket, black with orange lining||M||$279.95||Sale Ended|
|10176-001-40||Simms Bulkley Jacket, black with orange lining||L||$279.95||Sale Ended|
|10176-001-50||Simms Bulkley Jacket, black with orange lining||XL||$279.95||Sale Ended|
|10176-001-60||Simms Bulkley Jacket, black with orange lining||XXL||$279.95||Sale Ended|
|Waterworks Lamson ARX Reels|
|ARX #3||ARX #3.5||ARX #4|
Ingenious Design, Full Cage, Exposed Rim, Spey Reel
Arx is a reel built with purpose; Spey or switch casting a variety of lines with maximum line control and reliability. The continuing evolution of Spey and Scandi lines, shooting heads, flat mono, etc. demand a reel that can help prevent line snags while retaining the high performance you’ve come to expect from Waterworks Lamson. Arx has a full cage frame that encapsulates the spool to prevent line from escaping or snagging in critical areas. Normally a configuration like this would do a good job at preventing line fouling, but would preclude palming the reel. Arx is carefully milled on the bottom third of the reel to expose a functional palming section. Even the drag knob has been designed to provide optimal grip without exposing a portion of the reel to line fouling.Format: Large Arbor
Materials: machines 6061 Aluminum, stainless steel
Finish: Hard Alox
|Model 1||Line||Backing||Weight||Diameter||To Top|
|ARX #3+||500-grain head||125 yd. #20||7.0 oz.||3.75"|
|Choose winding hand.|
|A3+ REEL||Lamson Waterworks #3+ ARX Reel, Black Hard Alox Finish||$439.00||Sale Ended|
|A3+ SPOOL||Lamson Waterworks #3 ARX Spool, Black Hard Alox Finish||$200.00||Sale Ended|
|ARX #3.5||640-grain head||150 yd. #30||8.8 oz.||4.00"|
|Choose winding hand.|
|A3.5+ REEL||Lamson Waterworks #3.5 ARX Reel, Black Hard Alox Finish||$469.00||Sale Ended|
|A3.5+ SPOOL||Lamson Waterworks #3.5 ARX Spool, Black Hard Alox Finish||$210.00||Sale Ended|
|ARX #4||750-grain head||275 yd. #30||10.5 oz.||4.50"|
|Choose winding hand.|
|A4+ REEL||Lamson Waterworks #4 ARX Reel, Black Hard Alox Finish||$499.00||Sale Ended|
|A4+ SPOOL||Lamson Waterworks #4 ARX Spool, Black Hard Alox Finish||$225.00||Sale Ended|
|Direction for us to follow before we ship your reel or spool:|
Please specify which
hand you prefer to wind your reel with,
so we may set the retrieve direction for you.
Please specify if you
wish us to install a fly line on your new reel or extra spool. Then
make your selection from
the Fly Line Section. We will install the proper size
and amount of Micron Backing at no extra charge.
Trip To The “Far East”
Well I did something most west coast swung fly Steelhead anglers would not do. I went to New York and Spey fished the Salmon River. The story I am about to tell is true and all accounts are accurate. I am not going to mention what runs we fished, that’s not the purpose of this story.
As I stepped off the Plane
in Syracuse NY, I was tired, having left Portland International Airport at 10:25 pm
putting me standing here at 10:05 am, after the hurried connection in
New Jersey. My eyes were red from lack of sleep and food, I was just tired
and hungry. I was met by Patrick Ross, owner of the Angler’s Lodge. he
big grin to welcome my arrival. We talked about the flight and then a
bit of fishing talk. I told him I was starving. He said he had a remedy. He and his buddy Randy drove me straight to the Cracker Barrel.
This place was packed!!! After a good 25 min wait in a room pack with
more holiday nick knacks then you could imagine. Old-timey signs hung for
on all available wall and ceiling space. The floor space was packed
with every thing from pies to Christmas tree ornaments. Walking space
was tight and with others in the same hungry mood, time dragged.
Then we were back on the road. Randy couldn't resist the smell of the
fresh baked chocolate chip pecan pie at the baker. It looked good too, sitting next to me
in the car.
"What do you want to do", Patrick asked me?
"Well, feeling better now, I said, "Lets dump our stuff off at the lodge and take a peek at the river."
He and Randy smiled at each other. "All right", he said with assurance. In just over an hour we were streamside. Looking over a high river. Flowing at 1800 cfs, very different from the 350 cfs I saw at Spey Nation back in July.
The Salmon River does not have much of a flood plain, so as the river gains volume it gets deeper and FASTER. Having nowhere for the water to go we were on the hunt for any soft water spot we could find. I knew Patrick would have a plan.
We took a brisk walk through a leafless hard wood forest, over a well troddened path. Hiking and driving along rivers for me, can be tough; I am always looking at the stream and not really paying any attention to where my rod tip or myself may be going. After several rod-untangling missions and a few un-choreographed dance moves to maneuver myself and backpack through the trees, we emerged at a lovely run. Having never fished there before, all the water looked good to me. The water was deep right off the bank and fast! I found it surprisingly difficult to keep my feet stable while casting and wading. A long cast was required to cover the only soft spot in the pool. Making those first few casts. I felt like a rusty pair of pliers, my skills and confidence lagged for a while. I thought to myself, "Slow down, don’t grip the rod so tight, more bottom hand, same stuff I tell my students.
The Rain poured and the wind blew. The mid 40-degree air seemed more like 33. After 30 minutes of polishing, the casts started gliding off the water and off the tip of the rod. I stepped down the 200+ yard long pool with out a touch. This never gets me down… it drives me. I knew by morning I would be back to 100% on my fishing. Guiding makes your fishing rusty. The afternoon outing was just what I needed to get back in form.
After getting back to the
lodge and sliding out of my
waders, and a good hot shower I was again ready for some grub. Then we hopped into
Pats truck and zipped down to the local watering hole, The Altmar Motel.
The next morning started early, for me what seemed way too early.
It was a chore, getting dressed in all my layers, and wadering up before stepping
outside. The breakfast bell
sounded, the raisin bread breakfast sandos were a surprising hit, and
actually they were awesome!
All the sports were up and energetic to learn. The caravan started, and then a quick drive to our first piece of water.
"Cold wet air, smells like steelhead", Pat tells me.
Snapping back into steelhead mode, I take a big deep breath of the air…"OH HELL YEAH", I said. The excited often over emphasized tone in my voice carries and the others looked a bit surprised. The parking lot seemed empty for a place that has the reputation for being super busy… seemed devoid of people. Hey Pat, where are all the folks?? SHHH, he said like he had a secret spot. In this position just take everything in stride. The walk through the foggy Hardwoods the short walked seemed like something out of a fairy tale. The sound of the river took over the through the mist, catching glances of the broken water through the trees my excitement seem to grow. New water is awesome, the mystery of places you have never been. I almost felt like Marco Polo.
|Finally reaching the rivers edge and getting everyone organized, I stepped into the water to the give the opening presentation for the class. As I do in every class I like to look over the class to see how much attention they are paying to the spiel. All sports seemed to be attentive and ready, like sponges, taking in everything I might be able to offer. God I love teaching classes like this. They kind of make you feel like an important person. After my short speech Pat and I spread the anglers out in the pool. I walked up to the first sport and helped to START SHORT!! Standing out of harms way in my peripheral in notice a Skagit line moving fast and down stream….|
OH YEAH!!!!! The opening battle cry sounded. The Steelhead began to put on an
aerial display that would rival the flights of most upland game birds.
The fight lasted longer than I had anticipated, given the cold river and
weather conditions. Patrick came out with the net, scooping up the fresh
"Feisty", I said with a raised brow.
Pat looked over his glasses at me with a slightly more serious look, these are good fish, and he tells me. The 9-pound buck was still trying to resist, even for his photo opportunity. The Picture was taken, about the same time that the screaming for another reel alarmed us. Hooked up again…HELL yeah!! These fish are making Pat and I look like we know what we were doing. Man this fish is a hot one I whisper to Pat. Wading out to help give a few Steelhead battle pointers, I noticed more jumps out of this one too.
"Hey Pat…do these fish always jump this much", I ask?
He again looks over his glasses with the same of assurance.
"These are good fish", he says a second time.
The sport slid the chrome bright hen into the net, with Patrick’s assistance. I reached into the net pulling out the steelhead, and looked her over before the release.
"Beautiful fish", I let the Student know. The best time to hook another one is right after you landed the first one I tell him. He quickly gets back to work.
"Hey Patrick, just in those first two Steelhead there was a ton of diversity between them. The first fish looked like a Steelhead one might catch in the Deschutes in September, the second looked like a fish you might catch in the Sandy river in February.
"We get a lot of diversity, not only in the over-all spot and color configurations, but also in the length and build as well." Having a few fish theories we chatted as the clients continued to fish.
As the morning pressed on
and the rain came and went, another couple fish were hooked in that same
pool. Quick hook-sets, and just bad luck prevented those fish from
finding a temporary home in Patrick’s net. The lunch
hour was approaching and the thought of corn bread and homemade chili
|The classes pressed on and the learning and casting portion were smooth. Hearing good questions and lots of accolades about things I had covered in my demonstrations. With these fish responding so well to swung flies, it really made me start watching the other anglers and their methods to see if other were catching a few. The only other guys that I saw catch fish that first day were pulling plugs, nothing on bobbers or indicators. I figured I would have seen more of that. Classes ended at 3:30 or so, asking the guys if there was anything else they needed, because if they did not I was going to go make a few casts. Patrick and one of the sports were setting up another guided day for later in the month, I grabbed my rod and backpack and started hoofing it up river. Each step taking me into new water, almost feeling like the explorer of the unknown, I could feel my angst building. Walking for maybe ¾ miles, I found what looked to be a great stretch of water. Taking a double look to make sure that I was the only guy here. I mean after what I here back home is the idea of having water to one’s self here was about as common as winning the lottery. Starting at the top of the run I could just feel the fish were there and after the sports had hooked 7 during class that was all the confidence I needed. I started short, and soon was letting casts fly. The 300+ yard run was as good as any of the runs in could have picked to fish back home. I was fishing about a 1000 times cleaner than the night before. My fly was finally about to reach the first soft spot at the top of the pool…ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ my reel was screaming. As before the fish was air born, cart wheeling all over the pool. After minutes of a good back and forth battle I managed to coax the fish into the shallows for a quick hello and safe return to the watery environment that she was used too. Back to the top of the run I waded, noticing that I was not going to get a lot more fishing time. My goal now was to finish the run. I hate leaving water un-fished. Then whatever Steelhead gods are recognized on the East coast seemed to smile upon me. Over the next hour I hooked 8 more fish in the same run. The fished ranged for 4 to 14 lbs. Landing 6 of the total 9 fish hooked, I was more than happy. I thought I could easily spend the next 6 days here and not catch another Steelhead and I would be perfect with that too. Patrick and all the class was great. These guys out were serious about learning, I was impressed.|
|That night I really had to sit and rethink all I thought I knew about what I had been told about the Great Lakes Steelhead. I am now sure that I had been wrong about a great many things concerning these wonderful fish, and the opportunity to catch them. What else could I be wrong about, what other fallacies could be disproved. I was going to find out!|
|Over the next 5 days of classes I made some great connections to people and saw a lot of personal progress in the growth in all the anglers that were in the classes. Every student hooked fish in every class, not all were landed. The water level dropped and the cold air from the lake came in, conditions changed and as we do here on the west coast, we fished on. 48 fish were hooked and 30 came to the beach. All methods from sink tips to full floating lines were employed and flies from 4 inches to size 8 summer Steelhead flies were used and all worked. Leaning on Patrick’s knowledge of the water and my teaching a casting style, the hunger our sports had to learn was curbed…at least for a short while. The top day for the students was 16 fish hooked, not bad no matter what coast you’re on!!! I will be doing these classes next year and I know that Patrick and I will make them even more streamlined and a better experience for the students.|
My end to the trip came too soon, but I was missing my gals back
home. The last day was not the most exciting day of fishing, but for one
of the last-class students, the day will not soon be forgotten. I wont
forget it either, as a guide there are always the situations that one
will never let go. As Wayne and I fished down the same piece of water
that I had done so well in earlier in the week, and taking my guide
stance behind him watching the line and casts go out over the water.
of the ways down the pool, the cast was a good one, laying out straight
as an arrow. The subtle mend placed in with care, as to never loose
swing or control of the fly. The fly came into the center of the
well-defined river channel, the full floating line under an even water
tension. A BOIL…my eyes blinked to see that the front half of Wayne’s
rods was down into the river. His Abel reel singing that heart racing
harmony that all Steelheaders long to hear, the pulling of a wild animal
at the opposite end of the terminal tackle. A lightning speed run
followed by a wild series of tail walking antics. The line instantly lost
tension…then Splash the crashing of the deep-bodied Steelhead back into
the river on our upstream side. "
REEL Wayne", I screamed, "fast TOO!"
What seemed like minutes to catch back up to the fish and then, ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ the reel screamed again as the fish fled to the tail of the pool.
I hoped that fish would slow down, (and stays in the pool). We had lost 2 other big fish that week; because the fish elected that the run they were hooked in was not as good as the next 2 runs down. Wayne lowered the rod and applied as much side pressure as he would dare, maybe more than I dare. Long runs, more jumps the fish became tired. The last efforts were shorts bursts as the massive fish was drained of energy. Patrick’s net glided under the big hen. Everyone’s eyes were looking to catch a glance at the fish as it lay in the net. Wayne and I walked over and I reached down to extract the tired animal and we looked at the great fish. The weight of the fish became a huge reality as my muscles worked just to lift her up. The fish measured well over 40 inches and the girth was something words can never describe, nor does the picture give justice to the fish's mass. High fives and hollers of victory filled the air, I knew that this was the eclipsing moment of the week. A fine moment in any guide's career and a personal mark in ones steelhead journal, a great fish in an awesome week.
As far as I know next years classes are almost full, if you are interested get a hold of Patrick Ross. He is one hell of a guide and his knowledge of the river and zest for Spey fishing are unsurpassed. I can honestly say I am looking forward to next year already. The fish back east might not be what we here on the west coast consider Steelhead. I am not going to tell you that they are, or they aren’t. Those fish love swung flies. Those fish grab hard, they jump, and I can say most will hit the backing… what those fish are, or are not does not take away from the beauty of taking these wonderful fish swinging flies on two-handed rods. If I lived there, or was given the chance to fish there, I would recommend it to anybody. The river will impress you and so will it’s fish.
Fish long & prosper,
Mark, Patty & Crew
The Fly Fishing Shop, Welches, OR
P.O. Box 368 - 67296
East Hwy 26
Welches, Oregon 97067, USA
Voice: (503) 622-4607 or 1(800) 266-3971 FAX: (503) 622-5490
© 1981-2013 The Fly Fishing Shop
We have been in business since April 21, 1981.