Bottom Dwellers - Crab and Rock bass off Oregon's Coast

Here's a photo of the Rau boys out on the salt near Depoe Bay, OR. in 2006. Nate, Jason and I all grabbed seats on a charter for rock fish and ended up limiting out. It was eye-popping fun! The deepest we fished was about 150 feet. From that depth it is tough to feel the bottom, let a lone a take on your bait. When you do get one to the surface from that depth, the eyeballs pop out and bulge like that guy from the Andy Griffith Show. The lack of pressure on the surface lets those eyes come right out and stare at you as if to say, "See? See what you've done?". The best part is, that the swim bladder usually expands and sticks up through the throat and out of the mouth, like a big puffy tongue. So many of the fish we landed were giving us a dirty looks as we tossed'm in the keeper basket. The first time I fished off the Oregon Coast was when I was about 12. There was Dad, Jason and I, and two honeymooners who pretty much supplied the chum-slick for the entire trip. Back then the stock was so plentiful that each angler was allowed 9 rock fish and 4 Ling Cod per day. Today the limit is 5 rock fish (not including canary bass, which are now protected) and 1 Linger. I guess the fish population is going downhill (but still - 6 guys on a boat for 4 hours, limiting out with a total of 30 fish??? There are still LOTS of fish down there). We all paid a little extra to have some crab pots dropped before we started jigging. We ended up taking home 8 large crabs and shelled them on the dining room table at the condo. I don't know what it is about crabbing, but i love it - almost as much as I do fishing. Maybe it is because it can be pretty risky. I've seen serious flesh wounds as a result of poor crab handling. Those critters are constantly watching and waiting for the right moment to clamp down on something soft and fleshy. I bet a big toe looks mighty tempting to a crab. Anyway, its lots of fun and good to eat - a match made in Heaven. I've attempted to cast off the rocks at the condo at Depoe bay a couple of times, but never really gave it serious effort - just sort of killing time. But last summer I spent a couple of hours jigging a crippled herring off the rocks on a super calm day. A group of ladies gathered on one of the balconies of the condos and watched me for a while. My efforts paid off! I landed two small rock fish - one was a sea trout and the other was a baby linger (I think). The larger of the two was a 3 lb fish and is in the freezer.... still. The ladies on the balcony, who I think had been drinking, were ecstatic! They were on their feet cheering for me and actually wanted me to bring the fish up to them for their dinner. I respectfully declined and trotted in to show off my catch. We are heading to Seaside in March. Jason Richardson and i talked about a salmon charter. Hopeflly I'll have pictures of that to post. Tight lines.

Man's Search for Fishiness

Note: The names of the lakes in this post have been changed to protect their identity (and to save my skin, as I have been sworn to secrecy and will be subject the torturous barbary of my brother-in-law if I squeel).

Marrying into the Elg family gave way to countless hours of fish stories and talk of great lakes and streams full of trophy trout. This picture was taken in early Sept. 06 on a trip Dad (Elg), Josh, Savannah, and I went on to fish in one of these secrete trophy-producing lakes. No-name Lakes are located up in the mountains of Eastern Idaho. We drove around and hiked all over them thar hills looking for the trail head that would take us on a relatively easy 7 mile hike in to the lakes. Well... it was great driving around, mountains jutting up above us, but we never found the trail head. I forgot to mention that we slept in the bed of the truck and woke up to about 4 inches of snow on the ground (melted off by mid-day). Anyway - we had pretty much given up and were heading out when we saw a sign on the side of the road. No-name Lakes - 2 miles. We couldn't' believe it. We decided that we had come to fish, so we'd better get hiking. Two miles was not far at all, especially compared to the 7 mile hike we were initially looking forward to. Two miles would be a piece of cake... or would it? We soon found out that what the road sign forgot to include was that the two miles was straight up. The high altitude combined with the steep grade did nothing but make me sound like a wheezing water buffalo with a cold. All the while Savannah and Josh skipped circles around me picking flowers and singing songs as they went. We eventually reached the lakes and built a small fire to keep warm. Now it was fishing time. I went for the sure-fire worm under a bobber just to get the skunk off. I hurled my rig out into the lake and watched as the ripples from the plash scatter in all directions. Then.... all was silent. I watched with the intensity of a hawk, scouting the surface for any sign of a possible taker. And then, without any warning at all, I GOT SKUNKED (and so did everyone else)! Some lake! Actually, I did get a visual on one fish while we were there - a biggie cruising the bank for a sweet little something to snack on no doubt. It was pushing at least 25 inches - easy, and made a wake as it went. So the fish are in there. Just wasn't our day. We'll kill'm next time (as the hike in will do me). Until then, the No-name Lakes trip is a great memory of time well spent with family. Oh - and for anyone interested, I have a classic video of dad lighting the fire with white gas the night before our hike in. Tight lines!

The Mrs.

I have managed to entice a couple of those famous Metolius River bull trout into the net this season. This fish, a 25 incher, caught in mid March of 06, took a #12 Prince Nymph. Yeah - nymphing's the game out there. Bull trout will readily take streamers and even dries, but we are dialed in on the nymphing and consistently see fish that range over - sometimes well over - 20 inches. Unfortunately I have flown solo on most of my Metolius days this year, and without a camera. But there are a few more weeks left before the fish start heading back down to the reservoir for the summer, and hopefully I'll get back out for one last hurrah. Pound for pound, bull trout put up just as good a fight as any fish I've played, including sturgeon and bill fish. But the real gems of the Metolius River are the native Redside bows. These little beauties are always welcome, even when targeting the larger bull trout. It is spectacular to see these natives in their natural environment. I love this river. I love getting out of the car and smelling the air at 6:30 am. I love and crave the pristine peace I find among the towering Ponderosa and fir. I value the sound of the river, the sight of my own breath in the cold, the solitude, and the sound of my drag screaming like a banshee outta heck, while my backing peels off the reel at mach 7. Life is good.
My buddies and I refer to the river as "The Mrs." Reason being if you spend quality time with her and treat her right, she'll be ever so good to you. But the minute you neglect her, the skunk is on. Tight lines!

AK in 07

Did I mention we are going to Alaska?!? This photo is of Yours Truly with a nice Deshka River hen taken in late June of 2002. The Deshka River is located in the Susitna Basin, North East of Anchorage - some of the most beautiful country I've seen. You can see Ryan in the back ground trying to figure out what in the world he is doing while I catch all the fish. Actually, looks like he is back there praying for a fish to take his poorly presented offering. Well, it must have worked because he ended up catching the largest fish of the trip (a 45 lb King). Mercy is a wonderful thing. We are slated to hit the tarmac on the afternoon of June 16th. This will be my third time landing in Anchorage. The AK boys (Davey, Ryan, Blake) are going out of their way to help us out with this adventure, so thanks, guys. We are looking forward to whoopin' you on your home turf! Tight lines.