For such a trophy fishery, the amount of angling pressure is amazingly low. The Smith is isolated far enough from population centers that very few anglers can fish it as a day trip. Most anglers have to spend a day to get there, and then a storm can blow the river out for 24 to 36 hours. Even if you know the weather is going to be good, it is a three-day trip. The season only lasts two to three weeks, so most anglers only get one shot a year.

Mick Thomas, owner of Lunker Fish Trips, had invited me to fish with him and Walter XXX.

The weather had been poor for a week with a series of small fronts passing through. The biggest storm of the season had passed through the day before but a high-pressure ridge was moving in. The river had dropped over two feet in twelve hours and water visibility improved to around 100 feet. Everyone knew there were salmon in the river and they were moving. The question was how far they had moved during the night.

We launched the drift boat at the Forks and had the entire Forks hole to ourselves. "I'm hoping some of these fish stopped a little before deciding which way to go," Mick told us. The "Forks" is the confluence of the South Fork and the Main Stem of the Smith.

We hade only seen a couple of fish break the surface as we repeatedly worked the hole. "The fish must have really moved last night," Mick said as Walter's rod doubled over to the water.

The fish ran deep and headed for the faster moving water in the main channel. It managed to run over 100 yards before Walter got it turned around. Mick maneuvered the boat downstream and deftly worked the boat in the slack water. The sea-saw battle lasted for almost twenty minutes before we saw the fish. By this time the fish had us at the bottom of the hole. Mick and Walter were doing everything they could to keep the fish from hitting the tailout which would force us to chase it downstream.

They finally subdued the 38 pound buck and brought it into the boat.

The fishing remained slow as we back-bounced roe for a couple of hours without so much as a bump, and had only seen a couple more fish. After drifting Gray Rock, I noticed a couple of teeth marks in my puffball and my bait was gone. I hadn't felt a thing. The next drift through, both Mick and I saw my rod get tapped. I swung on the fish and missed. Walter also got robbed on the drift. We did it a third time and both lines came up baitless again. Talk about bite-lite.

Mick rowed back up to the top of the hole, anchored and baited the lines. "This is how you do it," he said as he dropped the bait into the water. Within ten seconds he was hooked up. "Here take this, I gotta work the boat," he laughed as he passed me the rod.

It was another epic battle and I will long remember the speed and power this thirty-pound hen displayed.

I managed to catch a 22.5-inch fish on the last drift of the last hole of the day.

It is not unusual to have to work the Smith all day for a couple of fish. When the fishing gets slow, fishermen break out the fishing stories. Here a couple of Smith River Gems from Mick.

World Record Salmon

I was fun fishing with one of the guides below Society hole. My rod went down and just stayed down. We thought it was a snag so I maneuvered the upstream of the line and gave it a jerk. All of a sudden the line started moving and my reel started screaming.

It was definitely a fish, a very big fish! We battled that fish through four miles of river for almost three hours. Finally we were able to get it to the side of the boat. It was over a foot wide at the shoulders and you couldn't put your arms around it. We measured the king and released it. Naturally we didn't have a camera and neither of us could kill such a magnificent fish.

The weight tables put the monster salmon at 120 pounds. I did a little checking and found out it would have been a world record.

Wild River

It had been one of those days where the fish just weren't cooperating. Heavy rain had caused the river to come up over two feet in the morning. The river was running fast enough that you could have drifted from the Forks to Ruby, about 7 miles, in an hour. I probably shouldn't have made the second drift, but my clients hadn't boated a fish so we decided to make the run.

It was an uneventful fishless run. We were working the park just upriver from the Hiouchi Bridge. Without warning, this redwood just started growing out of the river about ten feet in front of the boat. The twelve-foot diameter log grew to fifty feet tall while I rowed franticly trying to get some distance between the log and the boat. Fortunately, it toppled over away from the boat.

The bankies said it was really close. I can't imagine what would have been worse. Having the boat 50' in the air on top of the log, or having it end up on top of the boat.

Over The Hills and Through The Woods

My adventure getting to the Smith that morning was also a tall tale.

The plan was to leave the house at 2:30AM, drive over to Hiouchi, have breakfast and meet Mick at 7. I woke up at 1:30 and couldn't go back to sleep laying there thinking about big wild salmon. So I got up and hit the road figuring I could take a nap in the pick-up when I got to the Smith.

I live 15 miles off I-5 near Yreka. The easiest and quickest way for me to get to the coast is to drive 100 miles north to Grants Pass then take Hwy 199 90 miles south to Hiouchi.

I was greeted at the Oregon border by a State Trooper flanked by a number of emergency vehicles completely blocking the Interstate. She informed me there had been a 20,000-pound hazardous materials spill on the Siskiyou pass. The freeway and the nearby old highway were both closed.

Road closures at the Siskiyou pass due to weather conditions are frequent. The Interstate is closed at Yreka 25 miles south which is the nearest town. This meant the accident had happened in the time it took me to drive from Yreka to the border. If I waited for them to reopen the Interstate, I would miss the boat.

I doubled back to the Klamath River Highway, about 15 miles, and headed for Happy Camp. At this time of night, the only thing on the road was a couple of deer. It had started raining the night before and didn't stop until late afternoon. The road I needed to take from Happy Camp climbs over the Siskiyous at Grayback and drops into O'Brien at the southern end of Illinois Valley. The pass tops out at over 6000 feet and is closed all winter. I had no idea and no way to find out if the road, a chip sealed logging track, was open.

As I climbed the pass, it got windier and the patches of fog got larger. I watched the thermometer in the pickup drop like a rock. A couple of miles from the top there was snow on the road. When I crested the pass, the temp was 25 and the road was covered with a few inches of snow. I had to crawl down the north side of the pass due to fog and ice, but I made it to Hiouchi with time to spare. The things a man will do to fish the Smith!

Fishing the Smith is always a memorable adventure!

For More Informaation:

LUNKER FISH TRIPS
Mick Thomas
707.458.4704

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