by Jason Brooks, December 01, 2014

December often finds me scrambling for last minute gifts in hot stuffy and over-crowded malls. As I stand in another line slowly shuffling my feet with the cash register nowhere in sight I begin to daydream about steelhead. Envisioning the upcoming winter season as snowflakes drift downward and I hear the oars lift from the water. The air is cold, my fingers are numb, but my soul is warm. Winter steelhead is unlike any other fishing for me especially the conditions we fish in and most of all the fish we catch. I visualize a cast into a seam drifting a yarnie along the bottom and then the sudden grab and a fish exploding out of the water with a fight like no other. Just as I am about to land the brute of a fish with rosy cheeks and a matching hue along its silvery side I am brought back to reality as I finally make it to the cashier who ask if I want gift receipts with my purchases; December it’s finally here and it’s time to go fishing.

There are plenty of places to fish for winter steelhead throughout the Northwest but for me true winter steelheading seems to begin and end with the Olympic Peninsula. Sure there are terminal fisheries like the ever popular Cowlitz already spitting out hatchery brats since before Thanksgiving. Central Washington’s Snake River and the far reach of the Grande Ronde but if you ask anyone in the Pugatropolis region about the Clearwater most of us think of the tributary to the Queets. The Salmon, yup that’s another tributary river. Forks is a place not a utensil and winter steelheading is meant to be out of a drift boat, sleds are for kids playing in snow.

There are several reasons why fishing, especially winter steelhead fishing, is considered to be almost holy on the far coast of Washington. First it’s a long drive from anywhere to get to the Peninsula with most of it being along two lane winding roads where elk are spotted in the old growth; so just getting to the river almost forces you to transform into a Zen like trance. The rainforest provides plenty of clean water in many small streams providing protection to fry. Headwaters in almost all of the far reaching rivers end in Olympic National Park where there is no influence by man such as run off from clear-cuts or altering of rivers by levees. The rivers themselves are short and both blow out and come into shape quickly, flushing smolts into the ocean which is very close and gives predators little chance to consume juvenile steelhead on their journey to sea.

The Bogachiel peaks around Christmas and there is good reason to fish the Bogey since last year’s winter steelhead tally per WDFW was 1,017 fish caught including 722 wild fish released. For anglers looking to catch hatchery fish the three day period of Dec. 27-29 put out the most with 50 hatchery fish bonked, 2 hatchery fish released and 3 early wild fish also released. Keep in mind these numbers are from anglers surveyed on the river by WDFW creel sample volunteers, so the actual number of fish caught is probably higher. The Sol Duc no longer receives plants and it’s creel sample numbers reflect this with just 37 hatchery fish last year out of the 1,729 fish caught (1,595 of the wild fish were released). Just south of Forks is Bogachiel State Park and the highway 101 launch where you can float down the river towards the Calawah. The Calawah River flows just north of Forks and only put out 459 fish caught as documented by the creel survey but that was for just 518 anglers contacted which is one of the better angler to fish ratios of all of the Olympic Peninsula rivers. Both waterways head deep into Olympic National Park but only the Bogachiel has good access with a hiking trail that follows its banks clear to the headwaters.

Another option is the Hoh River with Highway 101 bumping along its banks just outside of the Hoh Indian Reservation. As you drive along you will come to several bends in the river where you can hike down and give it a try. After crossing over the Hoh turn left and head west on Lower Hoh Road which provides a few spots to fish the other side of the bank. A few miles north on Highway 101 you come to Upper Hoh Road which travels beside the river heading east towards Olympic National Park. Along the way prior to the park there are several places to access the river for the bank angler or drop in the drift boat. The river eventually splits and hiking trails allow access to its very upper reaches. The Hoh River peaks during the kids Christmas school break around mid-December but continues to fish very well for the entire winter steelhead season. Creel surveys are broken down to the lower Hoh (Oxbow Campground to Barlow’s) showing last winter 1,818 anglers were contact and had caught 643 fish with 388 of those being wild and the Upper Hoh (Oxbow Campground to the National Park boundary) with 970 anglers landing 336 fish with 310 of those being wild.

The Queets is known for big fall Chinook and bright Coho in September and October but it too provides a great steelhead fishery. Most notably is a bank fishery at the confluence of the Salmon River and the Queets but the Salmon itself for a very small portion that is not on the Quinault Indian Reservation can be an outstanding fishery. The little known and very secret Clearwater River drains into the Queets not too far from the Pacific Ocean. This river is best floated in a very stable pontoon and with an experienced rower. Even then this little river can be dangerous but very rewarding. After fishing the Clearwater last year I came away with a new found respect for a good rower and the need for teamwork with those sitting up front to point out hidden boulders. If you fish the Clearwater be ready to learn on your own and put some time and miles in but it will be well worth it. There is very little bank access and the main floats are long and take all day. Don’t spend too much time in one spot or else you might get stuck as floating this river during darkness is not an option.

Your best chance of catching a true dozen steelhead and even potentially a few more in a single day will require a trip with a Quinault Nation Guide on the lower Quinault River or a walk in trip on Cook creek that feeds the hatchery. In the steelhead community there is some controversy over this fishery since the fish are raised in a hatchery that is a collaboration between the Quinault Nation and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, meaning non-tribal dollars to promote a tribal fishery but then there is the fact that the lower river is inside the reservation and it is no different than fishing on any other reservation that controls their waterways. The major enticement is the quality of the Quinault fish with a chance of actually catching multiple 20 pound steelhead a reality.

But if you don’t like the idea of hiring a guide then there is the upper Quinault, my favorite winter steelhead river. This is more like a large stream most of the time with very clear water that seems to hardly ever blow out and when it does it only takes a day or two and most of the time even less than a day to come back into shape. With crystal clear water this river provides a sight fishery for very large steelhead but unlike the lower river here catching one fish a day is considered good, and if you are lucky enough to hook into multiple fish count your blessings but be assured each and every fish is wild with a fight like no other steelhead as the upper river is not planted. December is a little early since these fish tend to stay in the lake that they have to travel through until they get the urge to spawn and head to the upper river but there are fish in the upper system as well as some very good dolly varden fishing from late Fall through early Spring.

For each of the rivers that are in the upper reaches of the Olympic Peninsula and extend up into the National Park keep in mind that they have a separate set of regulations. Most notably bait is not allowed and the seasons also vary. We were given a friendly reminder of this one year as we floated the upper Quinault just before the April 15th closure, that is except the waters in the park closed after March 31st. Luckily for us the park ranger was nice and told us where the boundary was and where we could float to and start fishing instead of giving us a ticket. Make sure to read the WDFW and the National Park regulations before heading to the Olympic Peninsula.

The Humptulips River offers a great bank fishery right at the hatchery as well as near the headwaters after the river splits. For those with drift boats there are three main drifts with the most popular being the Hanson Road to Reynvaans bar. In this float you go right by the hatchery that puts smolts into the river where the adult fish will be returning for this year’s winter fishery and has several tail outs to swing spoons or spinners along and seems to drift fish or float jigs. The river has a few braids and taking the wrong one can cause you to drag your boat but if you look to the main flows you can row without too much concern. The float from Reynvaans to Dike Road is a long float but very rewarding as few people do this compared to the previous drift. Dike Road to Highway 109 is an easy drift but after the first two miles you can hit tidal influence and this makes for a long day forward rowing to the take out but the fish will be fresh and bright. If you decide to float this stretch make sure to do it on a negative tide. The Hump has several places to bank fish with WDFW access sites but most bankies concentrate at the hatchery.

South of the Humptulips you start to drive east, and away from the Olympic Peninsula towards more famed rivers such as the Chehalis systems Wynoochee and Satsop Rivers, the little Skookumchuck River which is more of a stream. Of course the Cowlitz is just east along highway 12, and the Lewis, Kalama and many more are just down the road but the Olympic Peninsula with all its steelhead Zen is where I hope to be. As I find myself this December in some stuffy mall waiting in a long line while arms ache from holding gifts my mind slowly drifts along an Olympic Peninsula river with snow slowly falling and water dripping off the oars into the river as I envision a steelhead erupting out of the clear pool.