| My first experience with Bull Trout was about a dozen years ago. A few of us OFF members were staggering around the Bob Marshal Wilderness area, sort of where the Unibomber used to live, following our companion Gary LaFontaine. Gary had led us into an area only accessible by arduous, exhausting hiking, climbing and cohabited by lions and bears.
We were trying to find a green drake hatch and exploit the naive wild cutthroat population. Water clearer than triple distilled gin and a red/green/tan mosaic stream bottom made this one of the most beautiful places on earth. It was one of those great days where the illusive three ingredients came together: We were there; the fish were there; and the flies were there. The fish were eager and the flies were plentiful.
It was one of the finest days I have had astream. But what made it so memorable was in mid afternoon after the flies stopped floating by. Nymphs were the order then and a little hare's ear or the fly formerly known as Prince was money in the bank. I was standing on the shallow side of a deep pool and John Hinde had descended the steep bank on the other side. About 40 feet apart, we chatted and drifted nymphs in the filtered sunlight. I was thinking "If it weren't for the Godawful walk out of here, this may be the best day of my life!"
John had hooked a small cutt and was bringing it to net when I saw what looked like a log on the stream bottom slowly rise to the flashing trout and inhale it! Ten inches of fish, gone, consumed, et up! But John still was fast to a fish which moved slowly to deeper water. A huge Bull Trout had ended his meal with the hare's ear in the top of his upper jaw and wasn't too happy about it! Seldom have I seen such thrashing and movement. Darting here, rushing there! And I'm not talking about the fish, who was calmly applying his ten plus pounds to John's woefully inadequate three weight rod. Somehow, John landed that fish, ugly beast that it was, and gently returned it to the water. I had seen the whole spectacle and it was riveting.
Bull trout are a member of the North American salmon family, which includes salmon, trout, whitefish, charr, and grayling. Members of this family tend to prefer cold, clear waters, and the bull trout is exceptional for its demand for especially cold--no more than 64deg. F--water.
Salmonids are particularly known for their migratory nature. Anadromous salmon are an extreme case, spending most of their lives in the ocean but returning to head-waters streams to spawn. Resident trout are at the opposite end of the spectrum, spending generation after generation in one stream. Between these extremes are migratory fish that never reach salt water, including adfluvial fish, which spawn in streams but live in lakes; and fluvial fish, which spawn in headwaters streams but live downstream in larger rivers.
Various populations of bull trout fit at all ranges of this spectrum. Many are resident to a single stream; others migrate on a fluvial or adfluvial basis. And one population of bull trout in Washington is known to be anadromous. Presumably, the various types of trout interbred at times, which helped maintain viable populations throughout the fish's range.
The bull trout received its name from its large head and mouth. It is also distinguished by its predatory nature, and its diet as an adult consists largely of other fish. But when given an opportunity it has also been known to eat frogs, snakes, mice, and ducklings.
Until recently, the bull trout was considered an inland form of the Dolly Varden (Salvelinus malmo), an anadromous trout found in coastal streams. In 1978 biologists decided it was a separate species, and named it Salvelinus confluentus.
The bull trout may have been anadromous during the last glacial period, when cold, clear streams were more abundant than today. This would explain its occurrence in isolated drainages throughout the Northwest.
Bull trout can live for many years and are sexually mature after four. They spawn every year or every other year and require particularly clean gravel bars for their redds If 20 percent of the solids in a gravel bar are fine sediments, spawning success falls by more than 50 percent; 40 percent fine sediments reduce success by 99 percent.
Spawning success is even more sensitive to temperature. Although adults can stand water temperatures up to 64deg. F, eggs do best with temperatures of no more than 36deg. F. Temperatures above 46deg. F can reduce survival by at least 75 percent.
Since that day on the Upper Gefordenswartz River in Western Montana, I have been interested in Bull Trout Several trips to the Oregon's Metoluis River where they are plentiful has been both a humbling and productive experience. The Metoluis Bulls are a protected specie and must be returned to the water and barbless hooks are a must. While there seems to be a year-round population of Bulls, there are migratory runs where herds of them come out of Lake Billy Chinook, looking for a place to spawn, cooler water, and to eat the thousands of Kokanee salmon which also migrate out of the lake.
The Metoluis is as clear as charcoal filtered Icelandic vodka and events ten feet deep are not hidden from the polarized view of the angler. It takes a bit of looking to find a "dolly hole" as they are known locally and much easier to ask at the local general store, "Camp Sherman." "Oh, you will find some fish below the Fensterwinder Bridge, and there are always a few in the hole at Semper-linden Campground. Need any flies?" "Sure" you respond, and they get out a couple of flies which are similar in size and appearance to a dead rabbit. No head, of course. "Toss one of these in there and jig it about, was the advice." Thus equipped, you wonder how you are going to manage a cast with that nice five weight rod you are using.
You can't, of course, and this is the first lesson in How To Catch A Bull Trout. You need an eight weight rod, no less, just to fling the flies. Alternatively there are nymphs, #2 Tung-head Black Buggers, and big stonefly nymphs. Still need that big rod, though. These fish grow to twenty pounds and while they don't leap like rainbows or run like steelhead, they are stronger than just about any fresh water fish.
If you are the type of fisherman who likes to get on the river at dawn, then dead rabbit flies are the thing. In the low light of dawn these cannibals will fight each other to get to the artfully presented fly. When the sun gets on the water, these monsters assume the sunken log position, often lining up nose to tail for many yards in a hole. This is nymphing time and seldom will a fish move more than a couple of inches for a drifted nymph. Right on the nose is the rule here, bumped along the bottom. A bobber is suggested as the take is seldom seen. You just kind of loose track of the fly. Easy enough to do, even with waters as clear as a blue-flamed glass of Sambucco.
Be ready to loose flies by the handful. Be ready to run downstream as an enormous fish gets into the fast water and you don't have a chance in Hell of staying with him. Be ready to fall well over your waders in the 40 degree water. Be prepared to have adjacent campers laugh themselves silly when you do. And finally, don't be surprised if your hook breaks or straightens out. A day of Bull fishing should be followed by Dinner at the Kokannee Cafe, accompanied by any '98 Oregon Cabernet.
A fish that lives over 20 years and is the official fish of Alberta is a worthy challenge and should be quickly released after landing. |