My first Salmon Trip

So I went on my first Salmon trip this past weekend, and what a debacle it turned into. A friend of mine called me about mid week and asked if I would be interested in heading to the Salmon River in Pulaski, NY Friday night. From my location it's an easy 5 hour drive. The plan, leave his house at 11:30pm, be in New york by 4:30am. Stop at Fat Nancy's to get my one day fishing license and then head to Douglaston Salmon Run. Sounded easy to me. I would soon learn why my friend was calling it a "Suicide Run".

Thursday Sept. 19 2009
5:30pm: First thing run to the local tackle shop and pick up some tippit, Tungsten beads and polarized sun glasses. A guy in a sports shop is like a women in a shoe store there is going to be some serious shopping going on.
7:00pm: My son's in Scouting and I'm an Assistant Scout Master so off to Boy Scouts. The meeting lasted till 9:00pm, the whole time I had Salmon on the brain.
10:00pm: I started tying Bead Head Woolly Buggers on a size 10 Streamer Hook. Not really knowing anything I figured the Streamer Hooks I was using would hold up to the abuse. I tied up 16 in four colors Black, Olive Brown and Purple. I finished around 12:30am

Friday Sept. 20 2009
6:00pm: I started getting ready for the trip. First stop the super market. loaded up on caffeinated beverages, lunch meat, cheese and bread.
6:30pm: Loaded up the car with my new Tsunami 8/9wt Fly Rod, Okuma SLV Large Arbor Reel, new Waders and every fly that looked like it would attract Steelhead and Salmon.
7:00pm: Coffee run, time to start loading up on the caffeine.
From this point on it was time to start watching the clock. A smart man would have caught a couple of hours of sleep. Mind you I have a saying Intelligence does not reflect ones common sense. I new a few PHDs that were lacking in the common sense department and as fate would have it my common sense was out the window.
10:45pm: Out the door I go. I'm now on my way to pick up my buddy to begin a journey of 27 straight hours of sleepless "FUN".
11:30pm: Load my friends gear in to the car, down a cup of coffee and an energy drink then hit the road.

Saturday Sept 21, 2009
4:30am: We made it to Pulaski, NY. Temperature a balmy 38 Degrees Fahrenheit. We throw on our waders, walk into Fat Nancy's Tackle Shop and BANG. I'm now in Sportsmans heaven. Everything I could possibly need is laid out in front of me. I calmly reassure my wallet and it's contents that I'm just getting a Fishing license right after I hit the Men's Room and release 3 cups of coffee, 2 energy drinks and 4 cans of heavily caffeinated soda.
5:00am: License in hand, breakfast sandwich and another coffee devoured my friend points me in the direction of the Douglaston Salmon Run. A well known privately owned stretch river that is infamous for for it's fishing. I have been warned that there will some idiots on the water and just to deal with it.

It should be known that I feel there is an unspoken etiquette that is expected amongst those who stand in a river and try to catch trout on a fly. I'm about to discover that that does not apply on the Salmon River.

5:30am: We have just purchased or passes for the DSR (Douglaston Salmon Run). There is a limit as to how many people these warders of the river will allow on their stretch of the river. In my mind it may not seem right that a river is not open to the public, but in away the owner of the DSR is also maintaining a valuble resource.
6:00am: We are read the riot act. A series of rules and regulations derived by the ownership to that is fair and easy to follow. Basically it reflects the NY fishing regulation regarding size, there a re some adjustments to quantity though. We are aloud 1 trout, and 2 Salmon. Where as NY allows 1 Trout (Brown or other species), 1 Steelhead Trout and 2 Salmon.
6:30am: We have established ourselves on the Salmon River, the twenty or so people that I have just walked down with have given each other enough room to cast either a Fly rod or Spinning Rod, a false dawn has emerged and the lines are cast.

For the next couple of hours the unspoken etiquette is followed, the closest person next to me is a good 3 yards away.
8:00am: Here comes Joe Pro Fisher and his son. The guy establishes himself next to me. Any closer and he'll be in my waders. I look at my my buddy and ask loudly "Are you Kidding me?" At this time he points our that nobody is fishing the opposite bank. I look at Joe Pro Fisher, shake my head, walk up river and cross.
9:00am: Nobody has yet to catch a fish. There are roughly fifty people up and down river wondering when the Salmon are going to start moving. Then I see it. A King belly up in the water, floating down the river a possible victim of a "snag" fisherman my friend states.
9:15am: The sun has started coming up over the trees. I've spotted several chubs in the river but not one fish over 4 inches in length. I have now move another three or four yards down river when I see my first live Salmon. Skillfully the fish swims past a gauntlet of determined fisherman. The fish has now made it through another pool and heads for the rapids and the next gauntlet. Not more than a minute later I see my second Salmon, this one is spotted by the other anglers as well. Again with skill this Salmon to runs the gauntlets of determined anglers.

9:30am My friend and I have decided to leave the DSR in search of better fishing. We would learn that there would be no fish caught at our location that day.

10:00am: We have moved to a stretch of public water that my friend thinks will be productive. Rods in hand we head to the river. I follow him down what can be best described as a deer path.
I follow him over a log at the edge of the river and bump into a twig. Who knew that a dried twig could ruin a good pair of new waders. It didn't take long for me to figure out I had a problem. The cold water filling my boot was the first indicator that I had a major wardrobe malfunction.
10:30am: We walk in to Fat Nancy's and the salesman looks at me and asks if he can be of assistance. I just smile for a second and state the obvious "I have a hole in my boot!" The salesman looks at me and mutters "Bummer". I can fix it for you if you want, it'll cost $12.00 for the patch kit and take two hours for the fix to be affective.
10:45am: With my waders patch and me bemoaning the quality of the product that I purchased from a well known Hunting and Fishing establishment, my friend and I head to another patch of water called the Ballpark.

For the next two hour my waders sit in the car under the glaring heat of the sun. The temperature outside has reached a scorching 58 degrees.

12:30pm: With the patch to my waders cured, fly rod in hand I head for the water. Not a step in my friend comes walking up, "Did you see the fish take me down river?"
"No" I state
He looks at me and hands me what's left of the Woolly Bugger I tied up for him. The darn thing straighten out and he lost his fish. We would break three more buggers after that. Lesson learned, "Do not buy a hook without a name"
2:00pm: I'm about experience my first Salmon. My friend has left in search of a rest room. I have an older gentleman watching me cast my Fly upstream and let it drift down. Bang the rod tip bends, and I'm letting out a wail of excitement. "looks like you got a fish" I hear. "Yes, Yes, Yes" I lift the tip to set the hook and begin to reel in my prize. The the fly rod straights out and all pressure is gone. "Looks like you lost your fish." the old man states. "Looks that way" I say.
2:10pm: I hook into my second fish, the line starts to peel off the stops. Not again I start to think. Yep he got away.
2:15pm: Third fish on. I'm determined to not lose this fish. The fight is on, the line starts peeling and the stops. The fish has found a rock to swim past and I feel my line go slack. At this point my friend has returned. Behind him 6 guys chomping on cigars. As my friend moves off to make a sandwich, I get my first look at what's left of my Woolly Bugger. The hook has snapped at the bend.
2:30pm: 6 cigar chomping buffoons splash into the river; 1 moves up river, 1 moves down river and the other 4 stand just about on top of us and begin casting in front around and behind us. I look at my buddy and signal it's time to go.

2:45pm: We have started the trip home. This is where the Suicide portion of the trip comes in. I have been running for 27 straight hours with zero sleep. I'm fueled up on energy drinks, coffee, soda and adrenalin. Half an hour into the drive home my body has decided it's had enough. I have started to fade in out of wakefulness. My friend having had a chance to sleep offers to drive, and I finding my misplaced common sense happily agree, pull over and switch places with him.

Although we have not caught any fish, survived a near wader disaster and dealt with some of the rudest people I've ever seen on the water. I'll happily do it all over again.