Do Something Instead of Doomscrolling
In the past generation, the only thing declining faster than native steelhead populations were original descriptions for the experience of fishing for, hooking, and catching steelhead. Also quickly nearing extinction: unique nicknames for the gray ghost, metalhead, steelface, sliver unicorn, etc.
Nevertheless, we persist. It seems the smaller the populations of anadromous rainbow trout become, the more articles, books, blogs, podcasts, YouTube videos, films, and movies we create about them. Or to be more accurate, about our relationship to them and the very human quest to catch them. The odds of hooking a wild, native steelhead on any given day are low—particularly if you limit yourself to swinging flies—but you have a 100% chance of consuming all the steelhead fishing media you want with a stable internet connection. According to the Wild Steelhead Coalition’s community manager, Brian Bennett, “We live in a golden age of steelhead fishing content, but these are the dark ages for actual steelhead fishing.”
If you’re seeking virtual steelhead connection, consider the Wild Steelhead Coalition as an alternative to vapid, vicarious YouTube vlogs. Their website serves up plenty of fishy photos and videos with a bit more substance. You can learn about the fascinating life cycles of these fish. “If you think salmon are the canary in the coal mine, steelhead are the canary in the canary,” Bennett says. “They have a much more complex life cycle.” You can also get some context about steelhead returns on the West Coast and find out what’s being done to help ensure we have sufficient stocks of migratory rainbow trout to cast at (possibly even catch) in the future.
Conservation content can be a bummer, especially when it comes to steelhead. The past couple decades have delivered a near-constant flood of unhappy messaging. Wild steelhead populations have cratered, and fish that were always somewhat challenging to catch (on flies, anyway) have become nearly mythical. A confluence of factors (Wild Steelhead Coalition refers to them as the five Hs—habitat destruction, harvest, hatcheries, hydropower, and heat) have combined to decrease populations by as much as 97% in some of their historic range. As fish populations have gone down, angling pressure on certain iconic steelhead rivers has increased. The fishing community has splintered into factions fighting over scraps and viciously arguing about bag limits, fishing regulations, and gear restrictions. Add to that the more recent concern about the impact of exponentially growing numbers of pink salmon, and you can feel like you’re drinking from the firehose of despair.
Doomscrolling through depressing historic trends or excrement fights between anglers on message boards won’t improve the future of steelhead fishing any more than following fly fishing influencers and watching sick vids about their most recent steelhead trips.
The Wild Steelhead Coalition’s core message is this: “It’s time to fight for Wild Steelhead. Now or never.” Quit the handwringing and infighting and do two things—get involved and go fishing (responsibly). Bennett explains it this way, “Whether you’re a lifelong steelheader, an occasional steelheader, or a trout angler who hopes to one day go steelhead fishing, this is your chance to help influence the management of these fish stocks and make a positive impact on future fishing opportunities.” Don’t succumb to the fatal undertow of incessant negativity, but don’t numb yourself in the vacuous glow of “content” either.
Former steelhead guide and host of Anchored Outdoors podcast, April Vokey, also thinks there’s a middle ground. “If I could offer any insight to the steelhead community, it would be to think beyond fish numbers—and certainly beyond content creation or consumption,” Vokey said.
“This was my hardest steelhead season to date. It might not be a popular opinion, but I believe the same wedge that separates us from the fish eventually finds its way between us as anglers. Resentment and pessimism grow—from one angler on the couch to another behind the camera. Personally, I’ve found the best place to sit and experience “both sides” without bias is directly in between—on the river. Not overly concerned about catching a fish, yet with the fish still firmly at the center of my thoughts."
Steelhead angler, journalist, and conservationist Josh Mills offers this advice. “Fishing itself can be an inherently selfish activity, so why not ratchet up your karma points by finding a conservation group you identify with. Go clean up a stream, advocate them in state legislatures or other actions.
“The time for anglers to sit on the banks of the proverbial steelhead river and do nothing is over. The time for companies that make their living off a public resource like wild steelhead without giving back to the resource is over. Infighting and steelhead angling class warfare is lame. We all want sustaining, healthy runs . . . and we can get there if the will to work together is there.”
If you’re feeling like the prognosis for steelhead is so overwhelmingly bleak that you’re ready to give up, how about a little good news? Of those primary threats to steelhead mentioned earlier (the five Hs), we are making headway on at least two—hydroelectricity and harvest. Hydroelectric dams impede fish passage, degrade spawning habitat, increase water temperature, and contribute to higher predation of migrating fish; but dams have been coming down in unprecedented numbers. Just this fall, the largest dam removal project in American history freed over 400 miles of the Klamath River in Oregon and California. Harvest is also coming down. Thanks in large part to efforts by Wild Steelhead Coalition and other conservation organizations, recreational killing of wild steelhead was banned in Washington State in 2015 and has been eliminated or significantly curtailed up and down the West Coast. (Oregon still allows anglers to harvest three wild fish per year on a handful of rivers.)
2024 also saw a marked increase in steelhead returns. From California to British Columbia, anglers have basked in a rare rise in steelhead numbers. If you were lucky enough to get out and fish this year (and happened to hit favorable river conditions), you probably had a better than average steelhead season. Unfortunately, this year’s bump in numbers isn’t predicted to continue.
“This year’s improved runs were the result of the favorable oceanic conditions from 2022,” WSC’s Bennett said. “We don’t expect that trend to continue.” But this year does show what’s still possible if we can lower the stressors, improve management, and give the fish populations that still exist a better chance at survival and return.
“We can have more years like this in the future, and even better ones, but we have to demand evidence-based management and conservation. We need to take a conservative approach not a mad dash rush to open everything up based on one good year. We need to build a buffer, so that the stocks are more resilient when things take a downturn again.”
Most of us here at Skwala call ourselves steelhead anglers, and we know steelhead populations face enormous challenges, challenges far too big for any of us to tackle them as individuals (or even small companies). That’s why we support the Wild Steelhead Coalition and hope you will consider doing the same. They aim to create significant change through incremental progress by bringing as many steelhead advocates together as possible.
“We take the coalition in our name seriously. We want people to support the fish, whether it’s us or another group. When the fish succeed, we all succeed.”
