The Dammedest River

Three days, three guys, four trout...

I’ve driven by it and over it many times.  Often I have admired it from the shore but only a few times have I been on it, only for a brief amount of time.  It bisects our state and as the river with the most dams, it provides transportation, recreation, and water for irrigation and electrical production.  It is a fundamental staple to our state’s economy.  For the first time I spent some time on the Columbia River.

Keller Ferry area from top of grade

Gordon, a friend and neighbor, grew up near Wilbur and spent considerable time in his teenage years riding and walking the river’s bluffs hunting for wildlife.  He also regularly fished Lake Roosevelt (the river behind Grand Coulee Dam) and still makes a few trips a year back to his old hunting and fishing grounds.  This time, Terry and I were fortunate to accompany Gordon on a return to his roots. 

 We stayed in a small motel in downtown Wilbur, ate at the local restaurants for breakfast and dinner, and met some of  Gordon’s friends and distant relatives.  While traveling through the Dakotas and Minnesota in 2007, I commented on my blog that it is so relaxing and secure to stay in America’s rural farm towns.  Wilbur fits that description.  The pace is relaxed, traffic is minimal, and most importantly, the people are friendly and hospitable.

launching at Keller Ferry

We fished the river near Keller Ferry Friday afternoon, the day on Saturday, and Sunday morning.  The weather was excellent.  There was some wind on occasion, some rain drops, and a few hours of intense sun.  But mostly we were in the comfortable 70’s and 80’s, protected by a light overcast.  The scenery was terrific with the river bluffs raising hundreds of feet above us, the water calm and flat.   There were eagles and a few deer.  There were also fish but few were biting.

mother eagle tending her young

It was a fishing trip.  We did fish some 16 hours.  Gordon caught three rainbows, Terry one rainbow and a small bass and two small walleye.   I don’t know if I even got a bite.  Again, I was out fished by my companions.  

Gordon's rainbow

Terry's rainbow

A piece of the limited action

I am coming to the conclusion that I am not a fisherman.  Oh, I enjoy it and I’m not going to stop.  But regularly my partners do much better than I.  On Lake Oconee, in Georgia, when Ben’s neighbor took me fishing for large mouth bass, he must have landed over 20 of them (catch and release) but I only landed three.  Last year, I took Barb, Kari, Nathan, Cailyn and kids to Mineral Lake for the day and even then 3 year old Jane caught 2 fish and I caught none.  On our trip to the Okanogan last spring, Barb caught more fish than me.  In each situation I am reminded of the advice of my grandfather JI.   He was an avid fisherman in his retirement years and instructed me as a five year old, “Keep your eye on the pole, Norman, or you’ll never catch fish.”

But I can’t.  The water, landscape and wildlife capture my interest.  The joy of being in a boat with family or friends captures my heart.  The boat is a capsule where human interaction flows, discussions take place in an unrestricted manner, honest, and heart felt.  It is a very special environment surrounded by the beauty of creation.  The memories will last for a lifetime and the stories will be retold again and again.  And oh, yes, there are fish, somewhere, somehow, next time.

What's this handle on the side of this thing for?