Thursday, June 24, 2004

Asotin smallmouths kick off Snake River trip Son Jon, his girlfriend Shelly Sogga and I rolled into Lewiston about 5:00 this evening, after a pleasant drive through eastern Washington's rolling landscape, coming down Route 195 from Spokane. Grain and alfalfa fields looked good. Buckwheat was blooming, as was something brightly yellow. I'm guessing mustard, but will ask our guide tomorrow. [Turns out that was rape, the plant that canola oil is made from.]  We all agreed the view of the Clearwater and Snake valley from the highlands was nothing short of amazing. Hard to imagine how it must have looked to Lewis & Clark 200 years ago this fall when they came through on their way to the coast. Checked into the Lewiston Super 8, bought my nonresident license at Schurman's True Value, then checked out the landing at Swallow Park, south of Clarkston. "Let's wet a line," Shelly said. "I'm excited!" So, we headed down Highway 129 along the Snake to Asotin, where Asotin Creek joins the big river. There was a local chamber of commerce party going on in a park along the creek, which we thought might hold some trout. I figured the Snake might be a better bet, however, so we parked behind the football field and walked down to the river. An osprey soared overhead as we approached the river. Swallows skimmed low over the current, as dark clouds threatened to the southwest. We kept an eye on the lightning off to the west, as we cast flies and spinnerbaits, hoping to find a smallie or two interested in feeding. A few short strikes early on encouraged us to stay longer, so we walked along the rocky shoreline downstream toward the mouth of Asotin Creek. We passed a beaver lodge under a big willow, which provided some structure we thought might hold fish. Soon, Shelly caught our first bass on a chartreuse spinnerbait. Her first bass ever, it turned out, but all the cameras were in the car! For the next hour or so, we caught about 10 smallies on Shelly's spinnerbait, a floating Firetiger Rapala and a Clouser Minnow, which Jon and I took turns casting on my 8-weight St.Croix Ultra rod. His loops were tighter than mine, I must admit. We dragged ourselves off the river at 7:45. Back at the car, Shelly and Jon noticed our osprey feeding its young in a nest atop a light pole on the football field. They'd have a great view of a game, if they cared! A quick dinner at Zany's on 21st St. in Lewiston capped off an eventful day. 3:30 a.m. will come early, so this is it for tonight. Tomorrow, it's sturgeon with Pat Long, of Snake River Guide Service! That report, plus more from the OWAA conference in tomorrow's report. Time to sleep fast! Later... 11:00:51 PM    comment [] Father & Daughter Hunt Highlights Flight West You never know who you're going to run into when flying cross-country, or even taking a short hop, for that matter. Last week, while flying from Minneapolis to Spokane for the annual conference of the Outdoor Writers Association of America, I happened to strike up a conversation with Norm and Alice Shamion, of Iron River, Michigan. It all started when Alice noticed me reading a copy of Pennsylvania Outdoor News (which I was carrying, along with copies of Wisconsin, Michigan and Minnesota Outdoor News, to catch up on my reading). "Do you hunt?" she asked. "I've been known to," I replied. I then explained who I was, where I was going and that I write for the publications I was reading. I often take copies with me on a flight and leave them in the seat pocket when I am done with them, hoping they will find their way to an interested reader. This time, I handed them to Norm as I finished. He read them and took them with him to pass on to his sons, who are avid hunters. Norm told me a few tales of his days growing up in the U.P., trapping with his dad and generally hunting that country, which was even wilder between WW-I and WW-II than it is today. "Too bad we didn't start talking earlier, or I could have told you some more stories," he said. My favorite of those he told me was the time he whacked a beaver on the nose and thought it was dead, then carried ot over his shoulder to Dad's Model A. (Norm, forgive me if I got the relative wrong - it might have been Grandpa or an uncle, but I think it was his dad.) Well, anyway, the beaver came to and began snapping at Norm's backside, so he dropped it and proceeded to whack it some more. In a nutshell, he hit it so many times he wrecked the pelt. Dad was upset, and the beaver wasn't too happy, either. I'll have to get some more of Norm's stories, like the time he and Dad took a live coyote home and kept it in the garage for a few days... Anyway, the best part of talkiing with Norm and Alice was learning that Norm and his three borthers take their daughters (seven in all) on an annual Dads & Daughters hunt. No husbands, sons or boyfriends, just the dads and daughters. The girls get to hunt, while the dads cook and keep camp clean and do other such chores. They have hunted pheasants in South Dakota, grouse in Michigan and this fall they will will hunt turkeys in Idaho. They have been doing this hunt for 6 years and hope to continue it for many years to come. This is a perfect example of the Step Outside Program, which encourages experienced hunters and anglers to take a novice along and introduce him or her to the outdoors. Norm and his brothers are heroes because they are perpetuating our outdoor heritage. They don't think of themselves that way - they are just doing what comes naturally to them, taking family members hunting. The fact that they have continued this event for 6 years is testimony to their dedication. I'm sure their daughters appreciate the attention they get and the chance to enjoy the outdoors with their dads. More of us should do the same. It's actions like these that will help preserve hunting and fishing in America and help bring new enthusiasts into the outdoors. More on my OWAA trip coming soon.... 2:47:38 PM    comment []

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