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Chapter 1:

Wild Steelhead on the Brink

In 2021, being a dedicated wild steelhead angler means fishing through a paradox. While the enthusiasm for chasing these beautiful, powerful fish is at an all-time high, there have never been fewer wild steelhead returning to their home waters. As fish runs have fallen year after year, we all crowd onto the few rivers that still remain open and pointlessly argue online about who is to blame for the situation. The baseline has kept shifting downward until today when we have reached an undeniable inflection point where hype has finally run up against heartbreaking, ruthless numbers.

 
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Wild steelhead and their home waters are worthy of every ounce of devotion, but we are losing them as generations of overexploitation, habitat degradation, dam building, and irresponsible management slam into a rapidly changing climate.
 
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An angler trying to make sense of the contradiction is at risk of whiplash. Countless magazine articles, books, websites, and videos demonstrate how to catch these fish with every method and type of gear available. Others tell you exactly when and where to go to find them. Social media exponentially accelerates the hype. The most thoughtful of these voices celebrate the mythology and prestige surrounding this incredible species of migratory trout, but rarely do any of them admit that wild steelhead populations are hanging on by a thread. 

Shops, outfitters, travel agencies, and equipment and apparel manufacturers all advertise their products and services with photos of perfect steelhead held out at arm’s length for the camera and breathless accounts of successful days on the water fighting strong fish, but conspicuously fail to mention how run counts have collapsed or how often the watersheds being advertised have missed their escapement goals.

All the while, scientists and conservation organizations keep ringing alarm bells. Management agencies drag their feet as long as possible, preferring to sell fishing licenses and operate business-as-usual seasons as they watch wild steelhead numbers continue to fall on their spreadsheets. Eventually, long after responsible action should have been taken, they will finally limit or close seasons if forced to do so by biological reality or politics. Some anglers celebrate the closures as a win for fragile fish stocks while many others complain about lost business or ruined seasons as if the most important goal is fishing at all costs. Too few of us question if there are enough wild steelhead returning in the first place or what investments are required to truly begin rebuilding their numbers before we lose the last runs fighting to hang on.

The cognitive dissonance of being a steelheader today is painful because the balance between reverence and sorrow is real. Wild steelhead and their home waters are worthy of every ounce of devotion, but we are losing them as generations of overexploitation, habitat degradation, dam building, and irresponsible management slam into a rapidly changing climate. 

Today wild steelhead are in a crisis. Many would argue that they have been for a long time, but this year we are seeing emergencies no one can deny. Washington’s iconic Olympic Peninsula and coastal rivers are declining at rates matching the collapse of Puget Sound’s famous steelhead rivers twenty years ago. The North Umpqua summer season was closed due to low fish counts. The Columbia and Snake River Basin is currently tracking at the lowest return on record since fish counting began at Bonneville Dam in 1938. British Columbia’s famous Skeena watershed is seeing the worst run ever documented and the mighty Thompson is down to numbers so low its run of incredible wild steelhead is almost completely gone.

These are the most recent declines, but we shouldn’t allow ourselves to forget the rivers we have already lost along California’s coast, in Puget Sound, on Vancouver Island, in the upper Columbia and Snake Rivers Basins, in the headwaters of the Willamette Basin, and on the North Fork Clearwater, among others.

Let’s be brutally honest: The state of wild steelhead in 2021 is terrifying. Anyone who says otherwise is intentionally avoiding the truth or is not paying attention. In the United States, most populations are protected at some level of the Endangered Species Act and some that aren’t now would probably qualify if a petition were filed. Despair isn’t an unreasonable reaction, but it isn’t what the fish and rivers need. At every stage of their lives, in both fresh and saltwater, wild steelhead are still fighting to survive. Let’s build on their determination and break the grim cycles of loss.

Wild steelhead, and the rivers of the West Coast, need anglers who see the problems, recognize the challenges, and work to make the required solutions happen. Anglers who know they’ll be fishing less because of the situation we have inherited, but who will fight to save wild steelhead with the same passion, grit, and relentlessness we use to catch them. Anglers who will work together to knock down dams and barriers, provide sanctuary and cold water, prioritize the resilient wild fish, and restore their habitat on a scale never seen before. Anglers who are going to force agencies, managers, and policy-makers to take the steps required to restore wild steelhead.

As steelheaders, we know the value of these incredible wild fish and their home waters in ways our fellow citizens don’t always recognize. Every day spent on the water - whether it is on a sprawling glacial river, a steep coastal stream, or a clear desert river deep in a canyon - only reinforces the lesson. Our days on the water, and every encounter with a wild fish, must inspire us to demand the restoration and hard decisions required to ensure there are still wild steelhead returning to the rivers of the Northwest long into the future. No matter what gear we use or how we like to fish, this is the work that defines what it must mean to be a steelheader in the 21st Century.

Anglers see their favorite rivers closing and the fish slipping away. We know this moment is now or never for wild steelhead and we aren’t going to let them disappear on our watch.

 
 

Two Decades of Lessons

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The Wild Steelhead Coalition began twenty years ago when group of stunned steelhead anglers gathered in the basement of Ted’s Sporting Goods in Lynnwood, Washington to discuss the unthinkable: the famed spring catch-and-release wild steelhead season on North Puget Sound rivers was closing due to collapsing returns of wild fish. Puget Sound’s wild winter steelhead would be added to the Endangered Species list soon after.

These anglers came from all segments of the steelhead fishing community. They pulled plugs, swung flies, side-drifted, and threw spinners and spoons. They were all at the meeting to learn what had happened, and what, if anything, could be done. The collapse surprised many of them. They’d gotten good at steelhead fishing, the gear had continued to get better, and they were still catching fish even as the runs declined. But they hadn’t been paying enough attention. They’d trusted Washington’s fish and wildlife agencies to ensure steelhead runs were protected and being managed sustainably. Suddenly, it seemed, wild steelhead populations and the incredible fisheries built on their abundance were gone.

After that first meeting, some of the gathered anglers went on to form the Wild Steelhead Coalition. They hadn’t set out to become conservationists and grassroots advocates, but they threw themselves into the work of understanding the factors impacting wild steelhead populations, educating their fellow anglers, and obtaining protections and insisting on science-based management. 

Others at that meeting declined to step up. Some went on to fight to get seasons re-opened or more hatchery programs. Most simply moved on to other places, like British Columbia or the Olympic Peninsula, and just kept fishing. Now even those watersheds are seeing years of impacts and mismanagement accumulate and anglers are losing seasons there, too, as wild steelhead runs hit dismal thresholds.

 
 
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As the WSC approached our 20th anniversary as an organization, we started doing some soul-searching. We are looking honestly at our work, and the state of wild steelhead today, and asking ourselves some difficult questions. We are proud of our accomplishments and the community of anglers speaking out for wild steelhead. We see signs of hope, like the resurgence of wild summer steelhead on the Elwha River following dam removal, that point the way forward for meaningful recovery. But, we also see generations of habitat loss, dam building, irresponsible hatchery practices, and harvest impacts continuing to take their toll and prevent recovery. The growing impacts of the changing climate only add to the urgency. 

Faced with this moment in time, we are asking ourselves: How do we focus our advocacy to ensure wild steelhead can survive, and even thrive, in the future? How do we make sure that our children and grandchildren have a chance to encounter one of these amazing fish in their local rivers? The status quo is failing us, but how do we make the massive changes needed on the scale and timeline required?

We’ve always taken the “coalition” part of our name seriously, so we did what we always do: We reached out to the steelhead conservation community and asked them these same questions. In the fall of 2020, against a backdrop of a pandemic, forest fires, and low steelhead numbers, board member and photographer Ed Sozinho and the writer Geoff Mueller hit the road to talk to anglers, scientists, guides, and advocates to hear their thoughts on why wild steelhead are so important to them and what must be done to save them. Others got on phone calls and Zoom meetings to trade notes with friends and advocates about the traits of our community’s most effective leaders.

Consistent themes soon appeared. For the most fierce defenders of wild steelhead, their love for wild fish, their home rivers, and steelhead fishing was inseparable from their commitment to conservation and advocacy. Fighting to protect their local waters was just as important as being able to fish them. When rivers were closed, they didn’t walk away, they dug in and fought harder instead. They were among the first to see when sacrifice was necessary and were driven by an immense sense of responsibility to give back to the fish and rivers that had defined their lives. 

Most importantly, they didn’t wait to act. Staying silent or leaving the problem to someone else simply wasn’t an option.

These anglers are rightfully praised and admired for their work and leadership, but if we’re being honest with ourselves: Most of us aren’t doing enough to help. The time has come for all of us who love these rivers and fish to join the fight. Wild steelhead need advocates and standing on the sidelines is the same as letting them disappear.

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Anglers celebrate wild steelhead, spend substantial amounts of money and time chasing them, post all over social media, or even make their living taking people fishing or selling them gear, but most don’t spend any time calling elected officials, attending public meetings with managers, volunteering, or funding restoration projects and conservation organizations.

Today, only going fishing is no longer enough. There are too few wild steelhead left. If anglers don’t join the effort to save these fish and their home waters, then not fishing at all will soon be the only option remaining.

This might sound like an accusation, but we see it as a call-to-arms and the critical point for steelheaders to get in the fight, rebuild populations, and heal watersheds. Anglers often claim they are the guardians of our rivers and fish. Now is the time for all of us to truly start living up to it. Now is the moment to build an army of wild steelhead advocates that managers, agencies, and political leaders can’t afford to ignore.

Continue reading: Chapter 2: Restoration and Recovery →

 

In the 21st Century, being a steelheader must mean being an advocate and a conservationist as much as being an angler. It must mean prioritizing ecological restoration, sacrificing for long-term recovery, and rebuilding by giving back more than we take.

 
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Now or Never was made possible with support from Sage Fly Fish