When I first moved to central Oregon over three years ago, I knew I was in for a treat when it came to local trout fisheries.
Early on in my time in Bend, I spent a weekend driving around central Oregon from the Lower Deschutes to the Fall to the Crooked Rivers, becoming acquainted with the various rainbow and redband fisheries and learning the ropes from local friends.
Having moved to Oregon from Southeast Alaska, that summer was my first experience being fully immersed in a true Lower 48 native trout season, something that was highly anticipated on my journey from Alaska.
What I wasn’t expecting was the degree that I would fall in love with the pursuit of brown trout. I’ve learned that many anglers either love them or hate them, but as an Alaskan who had never caught a brown, I was pretty eager to hook one during my first trip to the Owyhee Canyonlands in eastern Oregon with TU. Sure enough, on that trip, I caught a beautiful brown on the Lower Owyhee River.
A little friendly competition
That fish started what my partner, Dalton, and I now refer to as our bi-annual Owyhee brown trout competition. At one time, the Owyhee was very well known for its massive browns, and while they are still there, they aren’t as numerous. A combination of flooding and exceedingly warm weather have killed some of those larger fish. And while it’s sad to remember a time when the Owyhee was packed with 30-inch browns, Dalton and I like to see it as a good opportunity to compete over who can catch the biggest brown and ensure the fishery is still in decent shape.
About once each spring and fall, we make the drive through the eastern Oregon desert over to the Owyhee to spend a weekend camping and fishing along the lower river. Dalton is a guide in Bend and has fished the Owyhee far longer than I have, so by nature, I’ve made him “guide” me on these trips the past few years, showing me the honey holes and letting me take the first cast through runs. This usually results in me winning the biggest fish of the trip.
My fish of the trip
This past fall, we made the trek over to eastern Oregon in early October. That weekend was unusually hot for being that late in the season and our go-to spots weren’t fishing very well. As we spoke to guides and other anglers, we heard the same from them. It seemed like more anglers were crowded in the shade resting than out fishing on the river.
After netting a few small but beautiful browns and rainbows in the morning, Dalton and I decided to drive over to the other side of the river and try out a new spot. After making our way through a boulder field and bushwhacking down to the water (in an area that looked way too snakey for my liking), we made it to the run we hoped to reach. After taking a few casts and adjusting my indicator, I finally hooked into my fish of the trip. A beautifully colored brown that certainly wasn’t my largest fish from the Owyhee, but it put up a fun fight and was a nice ending to what had been a slow day for me.
Patience is a virtue
After releasing my brown, I looked over to Dalton trying to determine if he wanted to call it a day and go back to camp or keep fishing. Before I could ask, he hopped back up onto the bank and said, “we’re trying another spot”. Being a guide, Dalton has a lot more patience than I do when it comes to slow fishing, so while he fished his hole, chasing rises and constantly changing flies for the next hour, I hopped around on the bank taking photos and admiring his persistence.
As the sun lowered along the canyon walls, he finally walked up to the truck after at least a dozen fly changes and no luck. It appeared that I had yet again won “biggest fish of the trip”.
We drove back to the main road and passed by one of our usual spots that always produces nice fish but hadn’t fished well earlier that day. Dalton quickly pulled the truck over and asked if I minded him taking a few more casts. I told him I’d stay in the car, but he should yell up to me if he needed an assist with the net.
Maybe a few of those 30-inchers are still in there
Finally, after a while of not hearing anything, I walked over to the top of the trail and looked down. To my surprise, Dalton was hooked up. Everything seemed to be going well, so I stood up above, watching, until the fish took off downstream and forced Dalton to follow down a fast-moving riffle. At that point, Dalton yelled up that he’d need me to net the fish and dropped the net for me to grab on the bank. I rushed down the trail to the net, losing sight of Dalton as I descended, and by the time I reached the water, he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed the net and ran back up to the road to take the next trail down and still nothing.
After doing this song and dance a few times, I decided to skip the next few access points and see if I could get below him where I knew the current slowed down. Sure enough, Dalton was already there, still hooked up to the fish. After I got set up with the net, he brought the fish in, and we finally got our first glance at it. We both looked at each other in complete disbelief. Not only was this trout the winner of our competition, but it was also one of the largest browns either of us had seen come out of the Owyhee in our time fishing there.
That evening, we celebrated by driving up to the canyon rim for dinner. Still in awe of the stunning fish, we watched the sun set over a sea of rolling, yellow hills and recounted what turned out to be one of our best days of fishing together.
Anglers and advocates
The Owyhee will always be a special river for us; not just because of the fishing memories but also because of the opportunity we both have as anglers, Oregonians and public land advocates. We are both proud to be part of the protection of places like the Owyhee. Regardless of how many times I visit the canyonlands, I am always in disbelief that such a beautiful landscape, rich with fish and wildlife, is not permanently protected.
Right now, the Owyhee is very close to receiving those much-needed protections. Senator Wyden’s legislation, the Malheur Community Empowerment for the Owyhee Act, which would designate 1.1 million acres of the Owyhee as wilderness, is awaiting passage by Congress. If included in a public lands package at the end of this Congress, the Owyhee and its fish and wildlife will receive permanent protection.
To learn more about the effort to protect the Owyhee and stay updated on how you can help when a public lands package comes together in Congress, visit huntfishowyhee.org.
