Winter fly fishers
The itch to cast a fly starts irritating serious anglers this time of year.
Rocky Ford Creek south of Soap Lake is a satisfying place to scratch it.
A friend of mine who recently took his dog for a winter hike west of Spokane at Hog Canyon Lake said he had to pity the angler he met who was hopefully but futilely walking into the lake with his fly rod.
Several fishermen towing sleds and packing ice augers were better equipped for the conditions.
But Rocky Ford is a seven-mile-long spring creek that emerges in the Central Washington desert and flows year-round at a fairly stable temperature. First it flows past the private Trout Lodge Fish Hatchery and then into a couple very popular and public miles of prime fly-fishing water before entering private land and then emptying into Moses Lake.
The stream is slow-moving and the huge rainbows that can usually be seen cruising the winter-clear waters are notoriously fussy.
It’s not uncommon here for 20-inchers to snub anything larger than a size 22 chironomid nymph, which requires the eyes of a Top Gun and the hands of a surgeon just to thread the hook onto a 2-pound tippet.
That’s no deterrent to a steady stream of anglers that flows from every direction, especially over Snoqualmie Pass from the West Side.
These anglers also are comfortable with the restrictive rules:
Catch and release only, fly fishing only, barbless hooks required, bait prohibited, shore fishing only; no boats, no wading.
No problem.
Despite all those deterrents, the parking lots were mostly full on a recent gray Sunday with the air temperature varying little from 38 degrees.
And while Rocky Ford might sound like the holy waters of elite fly casters — it is, if you ask them — the first angler I saw with a fish was a boy fishing a scud pattern under a strike indictor from a wheelchair on the accessible fishing platform.
His father had used a cell phone camera to snap a photo of the boy with the fish draped completely across his lap before they released it back into the stream.
“I can’t get any signal so we’ll have to send it to mom later,” the dad said, obviously eager to share the excitement.
Just downstream, novice fly caster Pat Fairchild of Spokane also landed a nice rainbow after a couple hours of determined effort. She was with her husband, Nick, to christen the fly rod he’d given her at Christmas.
Fairchild can be proud because these truly are temperamental trout that have seen just about every faux fly imaginable. The fish are sterile hatchery triploids that quickly go wild and grow large in these nutrient-rich desert waters.
Much of Rocky Ford is lined with cattails that reach out to snatch flies on the back cast, especially for anglers who might be distracted occasionally by waterfowl whistling past or by a huge trout they might spot sulking inches from the bank.
The stream gets wide in areas, so anglers also can count on seeing a few big trout finning in the surface just out of casting range.
Every angler on the creek seems to have a favorite fly pattern, such as chironomids, blood worms, Griffith Gnats, various scuds or Woolly Buggers. Two anglers said they had a flurry of activity the previous evening using small Bunny Leeches.
“Even though it’s cold all day long, they still came on at sunset,” one of the Tacoma anglers said.
Some anglers spot trout and cast to them as though they were bonefish. The take can be so subtle in the slow current, experienced anglers react to the flash of white as the fish opens its mouth rather than trying to detect to a tug on the line.
Strike indicators — small, bright floating “bobbers” of various materials fastened on the leader — are especially popular for winter fly fishing.
While fly tackle must be given some scrutiny before winter fishing, so should the rest of your gear.
Layers of wool or synthetic fleece and other fabrics that retain warmth when wet are a hedge against discomfort and possibly disaster should you take a spill in cold weather.
When fishing for the big trout at Rocky Ford, it’s also wise to have a change of clothes and hot soup or drinks in the car.
Pat Fairchild can vouch for that.
“He wasn’t cooperating when I tried to get the hook out and release him,” she said, wet past her knees but smiling. “I’m going to the car to get warm; then I’m coming back.”