THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 



25 



AN OUTING ON THE MIDDLE FORK OF THE 



WILLAMETTE 



By Frank V. Smith, Portland, Oregon 



I HAD the pleasure of spending the month of August on the Middle 

 Fork of the Willamette, twenty miles north of Oak Eidge. We 

 found the roads in very fine condition, with the exception of some 

 steep hills. The party consisted of Mrs. Smith, my father, a Boston 

 terrier and myself. We found many beautiful camping places and the 

 fishing was good. My greatest pleasure was in seeing my father, who 

 is seventy-four years old, get out 

 along the stream and fish and 

 showed just as much enthusiasm as 

 I did. I guess I come by my hobby 

 naturally. 



I met your game warden, Mr. 

 Lidge Hill; had the pleasure of fish- 

 ing with him, and we had a very 

 fine fishing trip up the stream, and 

 a most successful one. Mr. Hill 

 hooked a twenty-seven-inch Dollie 

 Varden, and after a beautiful fight 

 of over thirty minutes he was suc- 

 cessful in landing him. 



I had a most successful day 

 with a dry fly, and when evening 

 came my creel contained 45 Red- 

 sides, varying in size from eight to 

 sixteen inches. The Upper Willam- 

 ette has some big fish and I hooked 

 in two or three which didn't even 

 give m-e an opportunity of straight- 

 ening up after making a cast of 50 

 or 60 feet with just one lunge, tak- 

 ing hook and leader. 



In fishing down the stream one 

 evening, I was on the opposite side 

 from our camp, and not wishing to 

 walk down the stream a half mile F. X. SMITH, of Deadwood, S. D. 

 to find an easy riffle to wade, I who Enjoys Angling^at the Age of 

 decided to take a chance and wade y^ ^ggB b^^ i-^j» ^^w^^-,. & S i*ssgm*sm**m**~' , » 

 the stream there, and it was some deep and cold. I had picked up 

 about thirty during the late afternoon and evening fishing, and as my 

 appetite was unusually good, I was anxious to get into camp. In wad- 

 ing across I had out perhaps thirty feet of line and was carelessly 

 casting in front of me taking a chance that I might hook one, and I 

 did — my first Dolly Varden! I was using a nine-foot tapering leader 

 and a number 12 white miller dry fly, and in order to keep from 

 losing the fish, I want to say that he came nearly drowning me. After 

 about twenty minutes we landed on the riffle which I had originally 

 planned to cross on, and I was able to get him up into the shallow 

 water and holding him up with my rod got my fingers in his gills and 

 he found his way to the creel. As this was: my first Dollie Varden I 

 was naturally very proud of landing him, and one of the accompanying 

 pictures shows you his size. 



