Brite Eye’s & Salty Sea’s

Timothy Burke • 7/12/157/16/15

Heading down the Oregon coast you’re bound to slip through the cozy coastal town of Newport. Early Sunday morning the Gaynor boys and I skipped church and headed for the open seas. We jumped in the 28ft North River Seahawk Os named “Brite Eye’s”. Cruising out of the harbor we were determined to do some salmon fishing. Much to our surprise within minutes of placing the rods in the holders the left rod tip started to throb frantically revealing the hoochie rig was under attack.

The day ended up with 5 beautiful coho in the boat, calm seas, and some vey satisfied fisherman! One thing that really stuck out was captain Mike Gaynor Sr. said he “always expects to catch his limit”! Fishing with confidence is a big part of being successful!

Always Believe

Best Fishin Buddies

Timothy Burke • 6/25/15

I think about all the wonderful times I have had on the river with my family and friends. A simple stream, a radical river, or even a small creek provides the context for great relationships. With my latest trip being the day before Fathers Day I had the privilege of having Chiyang and his 11 year old son Cody in my boat for the day.

I forgot what it was like to be 11 and go fishing. There is a sense of optimism and delight in every cast. The youthful passion is contagious combined with a relentless hunger for fish, fish, and more fish.

The Day was filled with laughter, conversation and stories of past fishing trips and different experiences. One of the highlights came for me at the end of the Day when 11 year old Cody asked me to teach him how to cast a fly rod. With much enthusiasm we began the beautiful art and disciplines of fly casting. He was a natural, patient, and relentless. Cody has a wonderful future ahead of him guided by his loving Father Chiyang!

Hand in Hand

Timothy Burke • 6/10/156/12/15

John and Amy climbed into the drift boat hand in hand ready for a husband wife adventure. In the first deep run a sudden take on the far left rod caught everyone motionless and put us down on the count 0-1.

The morning was magical with gin clear water and blue bird skies. The osprey circled looking for a morning meal while dipper birds chased each other up and down the banks. Boulders slipped passed us as we slid into a run of cloudy clay banks and downed tree’s. Under the stain of the current rods danced playfully in the early summer air.

Amy called out, “John whats wrong with your rod” as the tip drove deep into the swirling water. John screamed “fish on” grabbed the rod and set the hook fervently. At that moment the chaos started as he plunged into his fish pack clamoring and crying out for his go-pro camera. “Amy take the rod while I get the go-pro” was his frantic logic as Amy grabbed the rod and fought the rising steelhead. With boils, runs, and reel screaming action she held on for dear life. The long and aggressive battle was won by Amy she tamed the wild beast.

The story goes, John hooked it, Amy fought it, John landed it, and Amy captured it on photo. A beautiful story of an amazing couple enjoying life together Hand in Hand!

Always Believe

Red’s Redside

Timothy Burke • 6/7/156/12/15

As the sun dips blow the canyon wall humming bird sized salmon flies clutter the evening air. As they dip down to lay their eggs on the cool water film the hungry redside’s lurk below. It’s a frantic thrash as the large trout choke down their evening meal.

The fly line stretches out a lonely bug drifting nimbly down the curling currents. The white tuft of it’s silhouetted profile makes even the keenest eyes squint in the dusky light. With a wisp it’s gone buried deep in the jaws of its nemesis.

Where the Road Ends

Timothy Burke • 4/14/156/12/15

Where the road ends the adventure begins. A short hike through sitka spruce and red cedars the river makes a sharp bend on its way to the pacific. On the inside of the rapids rests a soft blanket of slow moving currents perfect for a traveling steelhead to catch its breath. With a bright fly for the sunny day and a slow steady swing from the 11ft Meizer Switch it feels like heaven is near. Drifting off in a mid morning slumber I am instantly awoken to a disappearing loop and the throb of my rod as lightening strikes. A split second later the Hardy reel screams a frantic cry for help as an invisible river thief tries to steal the fly.

Game of Thorns

Timothy Burke • 4/9/156/12/15

With thick under brush, high banks, and a variety of black berry bushes the game of endurance leaves one picking thorns from sleeves and fingers. Below the barrier of briers is a gentle soft cobble strewn corner. With one simple swing over the top of a riffle covered bar the magic happens and a giant tug indicates a willing participant on the other end. With the battle in full swing it’s anyone’s game. At the end the feisty hen is returned to lay thousands of eggs.

On the Move

Timothy Burke • 3/29/156/12/15

With heavy rains and fish on the move staying in one run paid off for Todd and I. A willing hen tucked on a gravel shelf in the head of the drift and a lively buck in the belly of the run kept swung flies entertained and fisherman happy!

Biggest Fish in Washington

Timothy Burke • 3/7/156/12/15

This Lake Tahoe native looked at me after landing a nice winter steelhead and said, “thats the biggest fish I have caught in Washington”. We had a blast yesterday telling stories, discovering new water, and I got to see the Californian take an unintentional dip in the water :). I feel blessed to spend a day with a great friend in a place created with us in mind!

Fish-on, Fish-off, Fish-on

Timothy Burke • 2/18/156/12/15

Not sure the last time I heard “fish-on, fish-off, fish-on” all in the same sentence. I wasn’t sure who was more confuse, me, my brother, or the chrome lighting bolt trying to steal his fly.

Compassionwacky

Timothy Burke • 2/18/156/12/15

“Just put me on a gravel bar and let me swing flies” were the exact words from David Brandhagen from Pendleton Oregon. He made short work of this bucket and found a nice steelie hanging in the soft seam.

Compassionwacky is a term he uses to explain the feeling of “swinging gravel bars”, makes sense right…