Idaho: Coeur d’ Alene River

Okay Montana rain, you win…  Moving to the other side of the mountain range into Idaho. 

Although Meg had to fly back for work, we talk every night about camp spots, fishing, weather or lack of, and the next airport I’m picking her up at upon her return.

When we first started dating 16 years ago, I went on a solo fishing mission to Alaska.  The weather was terrible on this trip in September.  We talked every night and she remotely helped me avoid weather as much as possible and guided me on my quest for fish.  I went everywhere from Anchorage, Homer Spit, Seward, Mt. Denali and back.  That’s when I knew she was the one.  I would basically make the call to her for direction and help.  Much like when Neo calls Trinity; but she’s much more Trinity than I am Neo.  You get the point…

Knowing my plight in Montana, she directed me towards Idaho to avoid the weather.

Here’s a screenshot of the weather on the way to Idaho.  She said, ‘I swear the bad weather is following you’.  There’s that Karma thing again…

After descending the mountain, I chose to stay at the CDA Riverfront RV park: https://www.cdariverrv.com/

Even with the close proximity to the freeway, it was peaceful due to the flowing sound of the river.  The next morning I started off fishing as this had been the most clear and promising river I had seen in a month.  I immediately hooked up on a large Cutthroat trout and it broke my line within a minute.  I later learned that 3.2lb tippet was apparently too light to handle the fish and the current and I didn’t make that mistake again.

Later that evening after fishing the river and catching a few quality fish, I met the camp owner Lawrence.  He fishes almost every day… yes, almost every day.  He also has a YouTube channel:  https://www.youtube.com/@Flytechy. Without hesitation, he pointed out the river sections on the property that were the most productive and offered advice on flies and presentation.  Based upon his recommendation, I caught five more trout, almost in a row to conclude the evening’s fishing efforts. 

He invited me to join him and his friend Sean to fish the North Fork of the Coeur d’ Alene river.  Just as the campground is referred to as CDA, so is everything else associated with the river, lake or towns in the area.  I’m making the obvious assumption it’s because Coeur d’ Alene is a PiTA to spell…

Back to the fishing…  He mentioned the amount of miles we would be walking the next day, and it seemed a relatively modest hike.  He also mentioned, there’s ‘a little bushwhacking’ to get to the river.  Over time, I’ve come to appreciate the differences in subjectivity with general statements and words:  e.g., ‘a little’ and ‘bushwhacking’. 

The way down to the river started off with your typical 45 degree descent of a rock and dirt cliff.  So far, so good.  Then, cross the river into overhead grass and bushes.  Sean was leading the way and has fished this section of the river for 20 years.  Yet, even he had land marks to navigate the first 1/8^th of the mile on our entrance to the river.  I asked Lawrence the night before if he was concerned about Grizzly bears while fishing.  He said the Grizzlies rarely come down to this elevation, and the biggest concern was confronting a moose. 

That’s Lawrence in the upper left following Sean on this ‘clearly’ defined path.

Once through the awkward maze in, the river was easily manageable with clear casting distance to most of the river.  They offered me the first shot at the initial pool that was basically a layup; except for the cast.  The last thing you want to do when invited into a spot is mess up a quality fishing hole.  It was a five-foot drop over long grass with a large tree directly behind me.  I respectfully passed.  Lawrence threw a couple of casts and three fish approached, but no takers.

I’ve always said, it’s important to keep learning and here’s what I learned…  I’ve always considered myself a hardcore fisherman no matter the circumstances and could keep up with anyone.  Maybe it’s my age.  That would normally make sense to me.  Lawrence is probably 10 years younger than me, but Sean is 10 years older, so excuses are out the window.  There was no doubt they both were at least one rung up on the hardcore fishing ladder.  Regardless of the terrain and difficulty on entering the area, they both carried two fly rods: a 5wt. and a 7wt.  There are numerous trout in this system over 20”, but that’s not the reason why they were carrying the 7wt.  The 5wt. was there so they could target the average trout.  The 7wt. was to allow them to present flies larger than I would ever think to throw in this water.  After seeing their choice of flies to entice the large fish, I regretted not bringing some saltwater flies with me on this trip.  The other thing I learned… I normally wait until fish are rising before casting dry flies; not these guys.  They would cast large dry flies without hesitation and were enticing strikes. 

I’ve said in prior posts, ‘secret spots are rarely that’…  With that said, I’m not giving up this spot.  They didn’t make me swear to secrecy or sign a NDA, but there are rules.  Also, even if I told you, 90% of fishermen probably wouldn’t go there because of the initial access to the river.

Before we arrived at the river, we stopped at a fly shop that is more 90% gas station than it is fly shop.  But I will say this, they had a quality selection and absolutely applicable flies to the local fishing areas.  Lawrence and Sean both agreed on the hatch and we stocked up on these:

And that’s the reason anglers carry more than one fly…  A lot of looks, but no fish.

There were some Salmon Flies on the river that weren’t typical to that area:

(Photo and Info Provided by: https://www.insectidentification.org/insect-description.php?identification=american-salmonfly)

Since the pattern didn’t work, we all changed to different flies.  Although they both had Salmon Flies in their boxes and offered me one, I chose the closest thing I had in my box, a dry fly grasshopper that landed me my first fish.

As I look at this picture, I’m becoming more aware of the images I post and what I’m trying to convey…  Did I catch an incredibly beautiful trout?  Or… did I just really need to use the bathroom?  I’ll be more careful moving forward…

When you look at this tributary, you can see it’s not very large.  Yet big trout live here.  With each of us using different patterns, we started targeting fish to see if we could determine what was on the menu, or not, for the day.  As we waded up the river, we would all take subtle shots at each pool.  Sean and I were upriver and watched an extremely large trout hit the surface.  We both had our casts, but to no avail. 

Knowing the fish was there, Lawrence moved upstream and started throwing the biggest, most obnoxious fly he could find to antagonize the trout into a strike.

This is not that exact Sculpin pattern he was using.  But, based on his success, I bought a few when I returned to pick up Meg in Bozeman.  More on that later…

Sean and I were about 50 yards upstream when Lawrence hooked up and it was a big trout.  We quickly started back to provide a net or video in our support of the release.  After 40 seconds, the fish was lost.  With that… in unison… we all uttered the same word that so many fishermen have used every time this happens.  Lawrence said, ‘without a doubt, that would have been my personal best Cutthroat’. 

Sean asked, ‘did you put him on the reel’?  ‘That’s why you lost him’.  The answer was yes, but Lawrence said, because the fish hit so hard, he didn’t feel the need to really ‘set’ him and that’s why the fish came off.

For a reasonable amount of time on the way back to the campsite, Sean insisted you play a large fish on the line, not the reel: Lawrence politely disagreed.   And that’s fishing and opinions…   I’m just the rookie in this bunch, but I always trust the reel…