Yakima River Trout
Washington fly fishers are blessed with steelhead and salmon rivers, trout and bass lakes, and rich salt waters, but they don’t have many rivers with ample insect hatches and large enough resident trout to make things interesting. In a state poor in trout streams, the Yakima River shines like a brilliant oasis in the eastern Washington desert. Widely regarded as the state’s finest trout stream, its consistent hatches, four-season scope, and generous access through some long stretches make it a wade fisher’s bounty and a drift boater’s dream.
Throughout its 60-odd river miles of serious trout water, the Yakima isn’t the tumbling sort of river many anglers associate with the West. But it’s no meandering spring creek either—it moves. Some stretches break around boulders and course through chutes. Other swift sections are deceptively smooth with only a few stubborn rocks signaling the river’s speed and force.
The River Divide
From its source down through the flatlands, the Yakima takes on a number of moods but is easily divided into three main sections: the upper river, farmlands stretch, and canyon. The upper river, from Keechelus Dam to Thorp, emerges as a tailwater flowing from Keechelus Lake, a reservoir high in the Cascade Mountains. This cool, clear section runs through forested and steep mountain country and is home to rainbow and cutthroat trout, along with small numbers of bull and brook trout.
Once the river leaves the Cascades, it enters the Kittitas Valley and the surrounding farmlands of Ellensburg (population around 16,000). From Thorp to the mouth of Wilson Creek, south of Ellensburg, the farmlands stretch curves through arid flatlands, complete with rattlesnakes, tumbleweeds, and scattered stands of trees. This is predominantly cutthroat and rainbow territory.
Between Ellensburg and Roza Dam, the river enters its glory water—the canyon stretch. At the head of the canyon, the river takes on some color from Wilson Creek irrigation returns, which does not harm the fishing, and may arguably improve it. Most anglers go straight to the canyon because of the abundant access and consistent fishing. There are numerous trout here, virtually all rainbows, and solid hatches to draw them up to a dry fly.
Throughout its course the Yakima flows can be substantial—especially during wet winters and from late spring through summer—depending on irrigation and runoff demands. Respect it as you would any large, powerful river. If you plan to float, get a map and guidebook of the river (Steve Probacos’s River Journal: Yakima River is a good start) so you don’t find yourself stalled behind Roza Dam, in danger around the Thorp Diversion Dam, or in any other sort of dilemma.
Guide Vision
I’ve learned a lot about the Yakima while floating it with guide David Child, owner of Life Is But A Dream guide service (dreamflyfishing.com). Child has worked as a fisheries biologist, has a B.A. in geography and land studies, is completing his masters degree in resource management, and works with the Yakima Tributary Access Habitat Program. He knows the river and its biology.
Last fall, with my wife Carol and a friend, I floated the upper and farmlands stretches with Child. The first day we bounced through cataracts, cast and glided along gravel bars, covered passing cutbanks with our flies, and tolerated the slow passing of shallow flats on the low, clear upper river.
Fall is a glorious time to be on the Yakima. The flow is easy, and October Caddis tempt foraging trout, along with craneflies, mahogany duns, and Blue-winged Olives.
We stepped out of the boat to fish the best stretches carefully and systematically. From around 10 A.M. (fall fish stir late) until early evening we teased streamers, stared at strike indicators above weighted nymphs, and cast zigzag lines to delay the pull of the current on dry flies. Though the sun was out to put the fish on guard, we caught rainbow and cutthroat trout, some only 10 inches long, and other 14- to 16-inch gems.
I took a couple of fish early on a bright streamer. Then Child pulled out a big, gangly cranefly imitation. It seemed to crawl on the water, and the trout smacked it.
In the late afternoon, throwing a wide arc of line upstream to allow my fly—a #6 Woolly Wing—to hang naturally along the far edge of a swift side channel, I hooked a big fish. It ran and sulked and shook its head and did everything but jump as it wrestled me downstream for 50 feet before the line went limp. The Yakima is not a trophy-trout river like Oregon’s Williamson or Alberta’s Bow, but rare fish can run 22 inches.
There is a major access point with a boat launch every few miles along the upper Yakima, and there are other places, mostly hidden, where a wading angler can get to the river. While the farmlands are peppered with several boat launches, additional foot access is spotty, due largely to private property bordering the river.
The canyon is where I have fished the Yakima most, and where it is most fished. The water is varied: runs, riffles, pools, and the occasional rapid. However, one feature stands out—nymph-stealing boulders are a constant. Be prepared to lose flies nymphing the canyon. Setting the strike indicator a bit lower than usual, so your nymphs ride just above the tops of the boulders, is a good strategy.
The canyon’s reputation for lots of trout and strong insect hatches is deserved. Baetis mayflies hatch in abundance in fall, late fall, and late winter. The Skwala stonefly hatch is a late winter and early spring event. I’ve had excellent fishing in the canyon, and most of it has been on foot. With Canyon Road closely paralleling the river and plenty of boat launches, it’s easy to put your boots in the water.
Copyright © 2012 Intermedia Outdoors
Comments