God bless Idaho. I used to drive 31 hours from Wise River, Montana to reach Smithers, British Columbia where the turnoff for one of the most famous steelhead rivers in the world, the Kispiox, can be found if one is heads up enough to find it. That’s all I ever knew of Steelies until I learned a little bit about our neighborly southern state of Idaho last November and December. Driving just an hour past Lost Trail, Chris, Ian and I found ourselves on some sexy looking runs with nines in our hands, looking at deep gooey tailouts and bottomless inside turns.
Now to step back a bit, we planned on just buying one shuttle for this float and staying out overnight on the river. We decided on our chosen water from Ian’s and local know how, then loaded up his big battleship steelie boat with all the camp necessities, including wood, and set off onto the mighty Salmon. Ian, an Alaska native and guide there, dialed us in right away on how to get it done with these fish.
Sitting just where you’d expect once you have the eye for it, Salmon River steelies were plentiful throughout the twenty mile stretch we ran. Swinging and nymphing, we dinged many many steelies both days of the float, and even got to keep a few hatchery fish to fillet out at the end of the day and cook on the grill in camp. The best fish was just under 32 inches, with most between 26 and 30.
Camping on some deserted island on the river, we grilled a sacrificial fillet that first night with butter and cajun blackening, paired with Sierra Nevada and bratwurst. Now if you’ve never grilled the day’s catch late at night over open coals, you’re missing out big time. This was the most incredible fish I’ve ever laid into, hardly resembling their brethren the rainbow but more similar to the Pacific salmon of Alaska: rich and filling, Salmon river steelhead rival any fish around for table fare.
We woke to clean skies and another day of steelie hunting. We searched as we floated, eyeing up runs for the tell tale water signatures that hold the fish. One run that raised our antennaes ended up producing nine fish that first encounter, and has since become our all time sweetest steelie lie, Power Eagle. We kinda found fish here there and everywhere that first trip, sometimes going for a mile with nada then suddenly doubling up on some good looking bank. With another night approaching, we wound it up and headed for the corral. The rig was a blessed sight with its heater and stereo after more than 24 hours on the water. We caught enough keepers for everyone to take a couple home, which we filleted on the spent aspen leaves covering the lower end of the boat launch, giving thanks for an amazing trip and fresh bounty from the Salmon.