More Than a Catch
Salmon and steelhead anglers are a different kind of sportsman. We’ll spend long days, sometimes in harsh weather, for just a chance at tangling with one of these incredible fish. We’ll wake at unreasonable hours - or drive through the night - to be on the water before first light at our favorite hole. To those not afflicted with the addiction of chasing anadromous fish, our actions make little sense. But these fish do something to us. This spring, I spent more time on the Clearwater River chasing spring Chinook than ever before, and I don’t even want to calculate what the few salmon in my freezer really cost me per pound. One thing I can guarantee: I could have bought them for far less and gotten much more sleep while the run was coming through.
I can look at the gas stations I filled up at and the restaurants where I grabbed a quick bite and feel good knowing that anglers like myself give these businesses a boost when salmon and steelhead seasons are open. Folks not lucky enough to live close by spend even more - quickly filling up campgrounds and hotel rooms in our rural riverside towns. If you’ve ever stayed at the Best Western in Orofino during a good run, you know what I mean. The continental breakfast is packed well before daylight, with anglers chomping at the bit to get on the water. The fish bring in the people, and the people keep local businesses running strong the rest of the year.
On this year’s August 18 fall Chinook opener, I was lucky enough to join an EcoFlight out of Lewiston, flying over the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers with staff from the Idaho Outfitters and Guides Association and the Association of Northwest Steelheaders, an angler advocacy group from Oregon. From the air, the view was staggering - hundreds of boats clustered along the water, each angler hoping for a strike. Looking down at that mass of boats, I couldn’t help but feel proud. Anglers aren’t just chasing fish; we’re helping sustain the economy in Idaho. Without these annual runs, riverside communities wouldn’t be what they are today.
As salmon and steelhead anglers in Idaho, we advocate for policies and actions that will help recover our wild fish and strengthen our hatchery returns to ensure we can fish each year. For us, it’s simple: we want fish to catch. But the impacts of these fish extend far beyond the dinner plate. On a Monday morning in a rural riverside town, seeing the rivers alive with anglers is proof enough: salmon truly do mean business.
