What is worth saving? Something you love, something others love? Something you loved at one time long ago or only what you currently love? These questions are not something I would often consider while fishing but perhaps it is something we all should think about more. Luckily in the case of the wondrous Deschutes and its canyon there is a group of people who are considering all of the previously mentioned questions. They are concerned for what we all love, how things used to be, and how things will turn out in the future. The first time I set foot on the Deschutes 5 years or so ago I knew it was a special place and the haunting that it instilled in my angling soul was palpable. Now that we have been blessed to be able to call this place, and in fact the whole PACNW region, home I understand how special it truly is and why it captivated me at first glance all those years ago. Its not hard to see the encroachment of culture and "Progress" on these few last wild places and it is something that we should all care about before its too late. I was able to sit down virtually with the president of the Deschutes River Alliance, Greg McMillan, to discuss their mission and his love for the river in the desert. Central Oregon's Deschutes.
What was your earliest memory on the Deschutes?
"Tough question! I was so young, and it was so many years ago, that it makes it hard to say. Perhaps my first fish as a boy? That fish was caught on a cane fly rod with a warped tip (there weren’t many other options other than cane back then, fiberglass was still relatively new and a big deal) with an Oren-o-matic automatic reel. There was a sparkling gold Eagle Claw egg hook with two salmon eggs on it at the end of the line. I was told to just drop the eggs into the water and allow them to drift. Lots of yelling ensued when I hooked a fish. Most of the yelling (and laughter) was from my dad and great uncle. I think I was mostly just confused about what to do. I remember pulling on the trigger lever on that automatic reel and the line zipping in so fast that the fish ended up wiggling at the tip of the rod. Not sure who was more stunned, the fish or me? Hard to say too which of us was more hooked.
That reel sits on my fly-tying bench as a reminder of long ago times and how fortunate I was to grow up in a fishing family."