Stream of Dreams -

Stream of Dreams - Kispiox River B.C.

~ Steelhead Memories on a Fly ~

Ken James McLeod

~ The Kispiox River has long been talked about with much esteem in the steelhead angling world as a top producer for trophy fish, particularly by those that avidly cast a fly. No doubt, it's why so many anglers travel a great distance to reach it. Tying into trophy steelhead of 20 pounds or more, is not an unusual thing to do with the right tackle. Simply, the river is blessed with big fish ~

The Kispiox first entered my father's life (George W. McLeod) in 1955, when he and three other fishing friends (Web Thompson, Bill Elsey and Martin Olsen) set up a trip to fish the river. It began when they commandeered a float plane ride to Swan Lake, headwaters of the Kispiox. It was to be the first recreational float trip by boat ever from the river's source and a special permit was required. Using two huge rubber rafts (WW II U.S. Army Surplus) it took nine days to reach their take out point near Kispiox Camp, a small hamlet. They had to portage around several falls and cascades, one boat was torn up and swamped then patched back together, and grizzly bears were a constant presence. In fact, they slept with shotguns over their chests! The largest steelhead of the trip was caught be my father and indeed was a "World Record on a Fly" going 29 lbs. 2 oz. caught on a Skykomish Sunrise wet fly. Later, the great fish was mounted and still hangs on the wall of a sporting goods store to this day. In the next few years that followed , Dad took grandpa along with him and the two continued with their annual fly fishing trek seeking "big fish" for the next few decades.

George W. McLeod with steelhead over 20 pounds
caught on Skykomish Sunrise wet fly Oct. 8, 1957

Jackpot Day:

The Three Fish Steelhead Record of 65 pounds, 8 ounces as told by Ken McLeod and submitted to the Orvis Fly Fishing Company...

"It was on the 9th day of October 1957, and the last day of an unforgettable fly fishing trip for monster steelhead trout on British Columbia's famed Kispiox River. I had had anything but good luck up to that time trying to keep pace with my son's uncanny ability of taking fish right behind me day after day - big fish that would go 14, 18, 20 pounds. Oh, I had managed to take several fish in the preceding days, but never more than one a day and the largest had failed to break 20 pounds, the magic mark for steelhead I had been trying to reach for well over 40 years. Then came Wednesday, my lucky day.

"About 10:00 a.m. I had a solid strike, the first for either of us that morning. It proved to be a beautiful 20 pound, 4 ounce steelhead. After a spirited fight of 15 to 20 minutes, it was on the beach. I knew I had cracked the weight barrier. Ten minutes later I was into another one, a buck, which took twice as long to land. It later weighed at 21 pounds, 8 ounces. Both fish were caught on the same identical fly.

"Meanwhile, George was pressed by this time, for he hadn't had a strike that morning. Then it was his turn. Two in a row, including a 21 pound, 9 ounce specimen which almost duplicated my second fish. It later won 4th place in the Field & Stream Western Fly Fishing Division Contest of that year."

"After wrestling four big fish in the same pool, it was one o'clock when George tied into another monster. He lost it after one hour and 40 minutes. We could still take one more fish apiece and be within the law (3 fish limit per). We carried the fish back to camp in two gunny sacks, grabbed a hurried lunch, and with some effort waded the riffle near camp. It was now 3:30.

"The battery had gone dead and we planned to reach a settler's house a mile and a half downriver for a tow. Of course, we had to fish on the way. A quarter of a mile below the crossing, we ran into fresh grizzly tracks which proceeded us downstream the rest of the way. They were too fresh for comfort!

"I hurried on ahead of George, anxious to get going and to find another place we could ford back across the river to reach our benefactor. George was some 200 yards behind when he tied into another steelhead, but promptly lost it. He immediately began casting again while I impatiently leaned against a big boulder. I thought as long as I was waiting I might as well fish, even though the sun had set behind the mountains and frost was beginning to form on my waders.

"A fish struck sharply on the first cast but missed. On the next drift through came another strike. That one didn't miss. The hook set solidly and he immediately started wallowing in the surface with half his body showing with each powerful lunge. George reeled in his line and came stumbling over the boulders on the double.

"The big fish didn't try to go out of the pool like many had. He just stayed in close and mostly thrashed on the surface. He really didn't look too big, so I put the rod to him and kept working him towards the beach, which dropped off sharply. His failure to run proved his downfall. The instant his head hit the rocks, George had him by the tail and slid him out head first. The battle was all over in eight minutes - the end result, a whopper of 23 pounds, 14 ounces later weighed at the town of Hazelton. George made a hasty cast and hooked a final steelhead of 14 pounds. What a jackpot day. I looked up and down the river and told George we had better leave before we might have to donate the fish to the grizzlies."

Ken McLeod with 22 lb. 8 oz. Steelhead
caught on McLeod Gray Ugly wet fly Oct. 6, 1959
-- 1st place Field & Stream Western Fly Fishing Division --

October 6th, 1959... "The bright silvery form of the fresh run steelhead contrasted sharply againast the jade-green of the river. It leapt frantically against a backdrop of stately spruce trees. It was a perfect set-up for any angler: a long, open gravel bar on which to maneuver, no snags to speak of, only a split in the river 200 yards downstream, and the fading light of the day accentuating dramatically every tumbling leaps of that magnificent steelhead.

"Ten minutes of this wild action wore the fish down. It was still dangerously strong but made the fatal mistake of moving into shallow water for a breather. A little more pressure from the rod kept it from wallowing too much on the surface, then the net was quickly slipped under the fish. Hours later it weighed in at 22 pounds, 8 ounces, and measured 39 1/2 inches in length, much longer than a man's arm.

"George quickly followed with a 13 pound fish from the same slot. Deep dusk had settled on the river by the time it was landed. In the eerie darkness george headed across the bush to the car a half-mile away, while I floated the boat downstream a mile. Although we fished for another week, none of the days compared to the beauty of that evening."

Ken McLeod with 27 lb. Steelhead
caught on McLeod Gray Ugly wet fly Oct. 23, 1970
-- 3rd place Field & Stream Western Fly Fishing Division --
(23 1/2 pounder on beach caught by George W. McLeod)

Ken James McLeod with 17 lb. Steelhead
caught on McLeod Gray Ugly wet fly Oct. 25, 1971

It was somewhat cool in northern British Columbia that fall in 1971, when we arrived at Hazleton, which is a small town located near the banks of the Kispiox. The drive north from Seattle, Washington (860 miles) had been exhausting, especially with the constant anticipation of hooking into a huge trophy steelhead on a fly. Near the town, we rented a small cabin well in view of the river. The evening was spent talking about past fish and preparing our gear for the next day. It was almost overwhelming, as I had waited many years for a chance to fish this river with my grandfather and father.

The following morning we drove up the old dirt road that followed the Kispiox to a place Dad called, "The High Water Hole." We worked the drift using a number of different colored flies tied onto heavy tapered leaders mostly on weight-forward sinking lines, but without any success. The hole however, was ideal for holding fish: it was much like a riffle rather than a hole and contained a few large boulders that were strewn throughout the head of it. And in order to fish it correctly, one had to wade far out up to your chest in waders, cast a long line using a 9-foot fly rod and slide the fly through the slot where the fish held, not to mention maintaining good balance while doing so. The High Water Hole was a place Dad had kept somewhat secret for years and always drove his truck literally through the brush off the main road, hiding it from the rest of the angling world. He had even gone to great lengths cutting the brush down to get his truck in there in years past, making just enough room for his rig to get by.

On the second day of fishing, at around 2:00 p.m. Dad hooked a monster while fishing at the same hole. Instantly, the fish went in a surge about the drift and wasted no time in showing us it was a real trophy. After an hour, the great fish led us downriver and out of the hole and onto the next. Dad fought that fish for 3 hours and 20 minutes only to have it somehow break the fly line in the end while going through a cottonwood tree that had fallen in the river. I could do nothing but shake my head in disbelief of what had transpired. Later, after estimating the great steelhead to be 40 pounds or more, I stated, "I don't think I want any more part of these fish!"

From that day forward, we hooked and landed many steelhead and the trip was beyond one's wildest dreams as far as fly fishing goes. What I remember mostly however, was something my grandfather said to me (at the High Water Hole) just shortly before Dad and I were about to beach a 25 pound buck I had tied into. My Skykomish Sunrise fly popped out of the played out fish just as it was being led to the net, and then the fly nearly hit Grandpa in the head as he stood on the gravel bar behind me. Meanwhile Dad made a lunge with the net for the great fish, but to no avail, and the monster swam slowly away. As the fish did so, his cold steel eyes glared at me with disdain. At that moment, I looked at Grandpa, and with a grin he said, "join the club kid."

As time passed, those words meant more to me than just losing that monster fish...

"Thank you both."

In retrospect, my 1971 trip was a wonderful experinece. It was my first to the river and my last there with my grandfather. Not too long afterwards, I was drafted into the U.S. Army and missed the next few years that he and my father continued to go until Grandpa's age cught up with him, and the journey seemed too far and long. We caught 22 steelhead and lost 7 on flies - ranging from 10 to 21 pounds. We drifted in the boat about five different occasions, each for around nine miles. We saw all kinds of wildlife and their tracks, including those grizzly prints in the sand along the stream. We had fought perhaps another World Record Steelhead, too. And we saw very few fishermen. Certainly a Stream of Dreams and mine to this day.....

~ portions of this story published by Salmon Trout Steelheader Magazine: April-May 1998
as well The Reel News: Feb. 1996 and Dec. 1995 ~

For further reading on the McLeod's steelhead fly fishing see: 1962 Scientific Anglers Inc. publication: Steelhead On A Fly? Here's How - by Ken McLeod

Kispiox River Journal by Arthur A. Lingren, published by Amato Publications Inc. 2004

Pioneers & Legends - Fly Fishing of the Northwest by Jack W. berryman, published by Northwest Fly Fishing LLC 2006

Fly Fishing Historical Note:

Ken & George were responsible for much of the specific development of the Scientific Anglers Wet Cel sinking fly lines, their specifications led to further designs of weight forward and shooting head lines (Wet Cel II & Wet Cel Hi-D) which sported George's name on its retail box at one time. Other creations & developments by the Mcleod's include: wet flies such as the Skykomish Sunrise, McLeod (gray or black) Ugly, and the Purple Peril. And, rod designs of St. Croix (fiberglass) steelhead fly rods, hand-tied Dupont Nylon tapered/balanced leaders, a well as pioneering the fly fisherman's stripping basket for casting. Ken also pioneered steelhead dry fly fishing as early as 1920: Deer Creek Riffle - North Fork Stillaquamish River, Wa. though he began his quest for steelhead as early as 1915 on the Tolt River.

KJM