The Rainie Falls Flying Fish.

It’s early fall here in southern Oregon.

The trees are full of color, as are the rivers and streams.

If you’ve ever wanted to witness firsthand the majesty, power, and persistence of Salmon and Steelhead, then you should hop in your car, catch the next train or bus, or fly on the next plane to Medford. Oregon. And don’t forget your hiking boots.

The Rogue River is home to one of the last great surges of native salmon and rainbow trout in the lower forty-eight, and the wild and scenic section of the Rogue is home to Rainie Falls. To get to Rainie Falls, you’ll need to drive to the town of Merlin past the village of Galicia, and park at the trailhead on the south side of the river, just before the Graves Creek Bridge, which is the start of the Wilderness section. and scenic Rogue River. Plunging ten feet over boulders and rocks this time of year and becoming a solid class five river rating, Rainie Falls seems virtually unnavigable from any direction. on the north side of the river. However, if you’re willing to make the two-mile hike to this small but natural wonder, you’ll be rewarded with one of the greatest shows on earth.

Salmon and Steelhead jumping as they attempt to scale the thundering falls is a sight to see.

For most people, the closest they’ll get to witnessing this incredible show of strength is when they pick up the remote control and switch to the National Geographic channel just in time to see a slow-motion, one-dimensional cluster of pixels. inside the air Tail flapping, body contorted and trying to stretch over a natural barrier, which didn’t seem like much of a problem on the way down the river.

All this so they can procreate and DIE.

Of course, Steelhead only do this to procreate, so they might be a little higher on the fish IQ chain.

Now, if I were a salmon and I hit the falls, I think to myself, ‘Why do I want to exhaust myself dodging sea lions, boat motors, fishing lines, ten-foot drops, waterborne fungus that can destroy my gills? and prematurely? put an end to my ‘sex with fish’ run, and even more fishing line, just to bury some eggs in the rocks and wait for Mr. Right to come and spray his fishy manhood all over my little darlings.’

If it were me, I’d take a couple of half-baked jumps over the falls, call it a day, and head back out to sea for another three years to gorge on fish and ocean adventures.

But I am so I.

The fish in the Rogue River have different intentions and God bless them for the effort they put into keeping the species intact.

On this early fall day the fish are extremely active and it almost feels like some sort of Fishing Olympics is taking place here at the falls. Sometimes four to six fish can be found in the air at a time. These are also big fish, some weighing fifty pounds.

It seems every fish has their own method of attacking the ten foot high, some take a huge arcing rainbow leap, some launch over the falls like a bullet, and some spin through the air in a “Fosbury” style flop. (By the way, the legendary Dick Fosbury grew up in Medford; I wonder if he got the jumping flair from him watching salmon.)

Time and time again, the fish try to relentlessly maneuver over the falls.

Some hit the rocks on the side, some Steelhead seem to have their own spot where they continually try and hit a “crease” in the rushing water, and others fail to time their jumps and fall weakly below the falls. Sometimes you see a mighty fish muster the power to reach the magical place where they can propel their ends once more up and over the edge to the top level.

Amazing.

Think about it, these little creatures, compared to us, have the strength to jump over a basketball hoop. If you or I could do that, we could quit our day jobs, sign healthy Nike contracts, and go fishing all day! In fact, I think Nike should consider the “Slammin’ Salmon” basketball shoe, complete with a smiling Rainie Falls Salmon, because I know I saw more “hang time” at the falls than Michael Jordan has exhibited at the basketball court. They could even take the twenty million dollars they’d pay an athlete and put it toward restoring Salmon and Steelhead habitat!

We must have sat for half an hour, watching the great stunts and trying to see if we could recognize the same fish that was doing multiple jumps over the falls. It’s hard to believe there’s such a great success rate, but judging by the number of fish that make it to the top of the river to spawn, most do.

But, not before exhausting yourself at the falls.

There is no fishing at the falls, and if you intend to fish, you must go at least a hundred meters downstream.

If you’re still in the mood for a more strenuous hike, you can continue down the river, but the trail isn’t as worn, there are rocks, streams, and mulberries to navigate, and there are plenty of bear signs along the way. We hiked up to Whiskey Creek and fly-fished for a while on some of the legendary Rogue River Canyon half-pounders.

The days are shortest this time of year, so make sure you leave plenty of time to make the trip there and back – with our late start, we only had about an hour and a half of fishing time, and we left right on the darkness.

For the most part, the fishing was just an afterthought this afternoon…

… The real treat of this day was the appreciation of Salmon and Steelhead, and once you witness these great fish in their quest to return to their birthplaces, I defy you not to leave with a healthy respect for Salmon and Steelhead- -and perhaps because of the great spirit and determination for survival of the species in general.