Jaret Bogue strikes a Trinity River steelhead. Photo by John Higley.

Both the Klamath River and the Trinity, which joins the Klamath at the small town of Weitchpec in Humboldt County, have good road access and public fishing areas. But of the two, the Trinity probably offers the most drive-up opportunity.

TRINITY'S FAST ACTION
On the Trinity, the best steelhead fishing takes place during what some anglers may view as the off-season. School is in session and the year-end holidays are fast approaching. While a few scattered steelhead may be in the Trinity at any time of year, the real influx comes in fall and winter.

For many steelheaders, fall is the most popular time. The weather is about as good as it gets, and the fish are as feisty as they come. However, the diehard anglers come out in early winter when crowds have thinned and the weather can be questionable.

Dress appropriately, fish with dedication. Realize that you are part of a unique group to whom steelhead fishing is as important as breathing.

As good as it can be at times, steelhead fishing on the Trinity and elsewhere is never a certain thing. The fish move. They could vacate a hotspot overnight. Stormy weather could literally wash out the fishing for days or weeks at a time. In winter, the Trinity River Canyon sees very little sunlight, and some days are bitter cold. But such conditions have always been part of winter steelheading, providing the mystique and challenge of the pastime.

Even in the winter, some days on the Trinity are both pleasant and spectacular. One afternoon in late December, for example, my old fishing buddy Henry Miller and I hit it right on a run below Junction City.

Admittedly, the first couple of hours produced very little. But the last hole we tried made up for all the previous dull moments.

I remember that Miller unleashed a cast toward the head of the pocket. Before his bright orange Glo Bug swept past his feet, he felt the bump of a good fish. Unfortunately, it shook its head once and was gone like a puff of smoke in a gale.

Meanwhile, I tried the tail end of the run.

Seconds after Miller's near-miss, I got a hit on the same kind of lure.

"Gad! Look at it go!" I shouted. The fresh, silvery fish acted like a bee-stung mule, breaking water three times before I managed to get it to hand. It looked like a 4-pounder, but I'll never know for sure because I released it.

After a few more casts, I hooked another steelie. That one peeled the 8-pound-test line off my spinning reel practically at will, and I played it carefully for several minutes before bringing it in and turning it loose.

Incredibly, the next cast drew another hit, this one a bigger fish than the others. It squirted around the pool and thrashed on the surface repeatedly. I was dazzled by it all until the steelhead suddenly went deep and shook the hook. It was a fine example of my patented long-arm release.

OK, that was a few years ago, and things have changed. Right? Well, yes and no. The size of the steelhead run varies somewhat each year. That's to be expected: The return depends on production during previous years. But recently, the runs have left nothing to be desired.

HIGHWAY TO 'HEADS
The main-stem Trinity River emanates from Trinity Dam, which was completed in 1961. The river immediately enters Lewiston Lake, from which it is released five miles later. To mitigate for lost spawning habitat, the Trinity River Hatchery was built just below Lewiston Lake. Salmon are first in line at the hatchery, of course, but a substantial number of steelhead are spawned there as well.