Fly Fishing -- Tiny Rivers, Big Rewards

The size of the fish is secondary to the size of the water in which it is caught.

Anyone with a big boat and a downrigger could have pulled a 10-pound sockeye out of Lake Washington a few weeks ago. Any fish less than 10 pounds was considered scrawny and not worth the trouble.

But, hook a 12-inch, 1-pound trout in a spot such as Skate Creek in Gifford Pinchot National Forest - and you've got a fish tale worth telling.

Some of the best creek fishing is found in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest - coincidentally named for an avid fly angler. Two real gems are Skate Creek, which plunges down the Tatoosh Range foothills into the town of Packwood, and the North Fork Cispus. These little streams are crystal clear, cold and chock full of hungry rainbows.

In Skate Creek, many of the voracious fish are hatchery transplants - clueless, clumsy little 6- to 8-inch fish that snatch up anything that resembles food. Occasionally, a careful angler can drop a fly over one of their larger brethren and set a hook in a 10- to 15-inch fighter.

That size won't win bragging rights in some circles, but considering the dimensions of the Skate, a footlong fish is a monster.

Skate Creek is a freestone brook that slowly gathers water as it tumbles south from a low pass between Ashford and Packwood. The best fishery starts a couple of miles upstream from Packwood - about where Dixon Creek empties into the Skate - and continues to the headwaters near Bear Prairie.

At its widest, an average angler can reach from one bank to the other with a fly rod and an outstretched arm. Hip boots are not necessary, but recommended (chest waders are overkill). Stream crossing generally can be accomplished without getting in deeper than knee level, but the water is icy cold and that layer of neoprene is welcome insulation, even on a hot day.

For the most part, these are tight quarters for big fish. However, investigation reveals some serious pocket water. It seems every reach of water is pockmarked with deep holes. The most accessible get a lot of attention from bait plunkers and gear casters, so the heavy trout that hang here are a bit shy and reclusive. But so few local anglers cast flies at the big guys, they are easily fooled (the fish, not the local anglers).

A light mayfly hatch seems to come off routinely throughout the summer, with light cahills - sizes 16 to 20 - being an effective pattern until mid-morning on those days. But hatch or no, one fly consistently draws attention. Yellow humpies seem irresistible to these South Cascade rainbows.

A size 16 humpy floated into the head of a pool will throw the trout into turmoil. Often, several 6-inchers will rush at the fly, guaranteeing a hard take by at least one. These fish are fun to catch. They're small but feisty, leaping out of the water and through the air as they attempt to spit out the fly.

But the fun is usually short-lived - until you spot one of their granddaddies lurking in the icy depths of a deep pocket.

The water is amazingly clear and, even in the deepest pools, never more than 4 or 5 feet deep, so a keen eye can pick out the gentle flash of a bright rainbow. The only hope of avoiding the small fry is to place a favorable fly in the feeding path of the big guys.

Same thing goes for the North Fork Cispus. This little river is just down the valley and around the corner from Skate Creek. In fact, a good day can be had by fishing Skate in the morning, then driving west to Randle, then south to the Cispus Valley to pitch flies to the North Fork trout in the waning evening hours.

The main Cispus River is a big-water river that holds a fair number of hatchery rainbow and a few wild cutthroats, but the glacier runoff of spring and early summer keeps the water murky and hard to fish with a fly until autumn. The North Fork, though, is another of those clear streams that looks barely big enough to provide a home to a caddis fly. Looks can be deceiving.

Not only is there a strong population of rainbow in this creek, but a good number of wild cutthroat, as well. Most of these - at least, the few that took my flies - are less than 9 inches long, but a few lunkers lurk in the deep pockets that line the forested stream.

Working the water upstream from its mouth at the bank of the murky main fork of the Cispus River, attractor patterns work wonders. Humpies and irresistibles draw a lot of attention - probably because most of the anglers are bait-casters staying in the North Fork Campground a few hundred yards upstream from the mouth and the fish don't see many artificial flies.

If terrestrials and attractor patterns are ineffective, fall back on the long wings of a damsel fly. This is a great pattern to have on hand on the Cispus - the big bugs are numerous and the trout seem to like them for snacks (as do the swarming cedar waxwings that dart around the forest here).

These creeks are ideal places to practice roll casts and delicate presentations. The small water forces anglers to relax and slow their pace. Accuracy and finesse count more than distance.

Then, after releasing countless 8-inch fighters, you pull in a 10-inch trout, you'll feel as if you've landed a monster.