Cold Water Steel

Timothy Burke • 1/8/162/16/19

In the winter temperatures can drop down into the teens. The icy river cascades its way held intact by lava banks, frozen drifts, and gravel bars. The first step thaws frozen boots warming them to the temperature of the water. Cold and green it seems lifeless from first glance while snow flurries fall from above but below the surface, the strong and vibrant inhabitants thrive.

The sound of ice popping off the rod guides echo off the canyon wall. The line stretches across the surface presenting a weighted intruder down into the drift. The fly tumbles through stony crags and greasy hydraulics. The fisherman shivers but the steelhead feel right at home. On the inside of the swing, a soft slow piece of water holds a willing participant. The line goes tight, the rod tip bucks up and down under the weight and the reel communicates clearly it’s under distress. A slight lift to the bank secures the fight and the battle begins.

This trip was with my two best friends David and Seth Burke. We spent the week of thanksgiving fishing our favorite south central Washington stream. Although the temperatures were miserable and snow fell all around us we felt at home. It was a perfect day for three brothers to enjoy the pastime that has created some of the greatest moments and memories we share.

Always Believe!

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.

Good Friday Double Banded Buck

Timothy Burke • 4/3/154/4/15

When the Sarg stepped into the river he immediately spotted a large old growth timber skimming the water at the bottom of the tail out. With conditions being low and clear and the skies filled with clouds and rain the choice fly was a purple marabou leech with a pink head. A long cast and a two stack mends sent the fly swinging perfectly down the face of the log. The Big buck lurking below came out of no where and devoured the purple leech. Lighting up the reel while running 75 yards down stream summer-salting all the way it was a beautiful battle.

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!

What I Came Here For

Timothy Burke • 2/18/152/28/15

This central Oregon fisherman couldn’t contain himself when a big bright hen in the middle teens tore him up. He cried out “This is What I Came Here For” as the fish took off for the ocean. Used to beautiful steelhead from the Columbia River tributaries that average 6-12lbs the Oregonian got a taste of a Peninsula Power House. I think he’ll be back!

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…

Pick Pocket

Timothy Burke • 2/17/156/12/15

Its one thing to start fishing behind someone and catch a fish but its another thing to do it twice. Although my catch was not as big as my brothers he’ll never let me fish behind him again.

Nice job landing my fish Davy!

the second pick pocket

First Run “Red”

Timothy Burke • 2/15/152/28/15

My brother drove up from central Oregon and met us for lunch on this beautiful peninsula river. He is a husband, dad, and school administrator with a busy life. After enjoying some bbq’d dogs we pushed off for an afternoon float. On our fist bucket “Red” we call him swung up this beauty on his third cast.

with the battle raging the prize was soon insight.

all smiles

ended the day with a beautiful sunset

it was “Red’s day” and we all felt blessed to see God’s glory displayed