I had crossed the Saluda river in Columbia on the highway many times and have always thought it would make an enjoyable paddling trip. I was excited to learn to fish on a new river and I never thought that it would take me into the African wilderness. This section is a tail-water to the Lake Murray Dam and the water is drawn from the bottom of the lake. The deep water below the thermocline is always cold and therefore, the Saluda River supports a wide variety of cold water fish such as trout and striped bass.
Some of my friends had caught some nice fish in the Spring and their pictures were enough to make me give it a try. My brother, Dawson, had started a fly tying company called Hub Flies, and I bought some streamers to use catching stripers on the fly rod. This water was unfamiliar to me and so I called Frank’s Fly Arts for some advice, as he is a popular guide in the area.
I hooked up the trailer Sunday after church and Ryan Stephens loaded his kayak on top of my canoe. We met Jonathan Love in Columbia at the confluence of the Broad, Saluda, and Congaree Rivers. A storm was passing by and we drove in a downpour as we looked for a good spot to launch the boats. As you can tell, this was not a well planned trip. We finally found a landing around 5 p.m. and the rain ceased as soon as our boats were in the water.
My first observation of the river was that the water really was cold. It was the middle of July, yet the water temperature did not exceed 50 degrees. The banks were lined with a solid green wall of trees on each side and the thick fog gave such low visibility that we could lose sight of Ryan’s kayak in no time. The wind was warm and strong, blowing the fog upriver against us. Another storm was building further towards Charleston and was supposed to reach us by 8 p.m..
We paddled along, casting our swim baits and rattle traps under the low lying tree branches and behind rocks. Sometimes we would paddle along, trolling lines behind us waiting for a bite. The runoff from the rain had caused the river to become opaque with mud and less than ideal fishing conditions. Even in the adverse conditions, Ryan was quick to land the first bass.
Two older men were helping each other back into their kayaks as they had just capsized on a rapid. We passed them and Ryan picked their brains for fishing advice. They had trolling motors on their kayaks and joined us for much of our ride. We passed through several small rapids and rocky areas where Jonathan and I would alternate paddling and fly fishing. Ryan was on the other side of the river hopping from rock to rock, leaving no hole un-fished.
The two older anglers pulled to shore and said that we have reached Mills Race Rapid (Class IV) advising us to go around by land. Mills Race was a dam that was dynamited years back which increases to class V when the river reaches 2,000 cubic feet per second. Mills Race spills into a Class III rapid called Mosh Pit. The river was currently at a 1,800cfs and Jonathan, Ryan, and I took the challenge.
I stepped up on a rock to observe the rapid and plan a path, then, Jonathan and I pushed off in the canoe and pointed the bow into the current. There’s no backing out once you commit to entering a rapid and Ryan followed closely as we rounded the first bend. We were moving fast and the nose was digging beneath the water. Jonathan called out a rock straight ahead so I turned the boat, but the current forced the nose back up and we were spun around backwards. Immediately, Jonathan and I paddled in reverse looking over our shoulders as our canoe dropped down a ledge backwards. Ryan was coming down like a torpedo so we went back in forward and rounded a rock, back into the current.
My canoe was full of water and Jonathan gave me a high five, almost flipping our boat. The river was calm again and the sun was setting. We were back in the fog and heard elephants and monkeys in the woods. I felt like I was paddling through the African Congo River but the animals we heard were actually housed in the nearby Riverbanks Zoo. Passing another bend, a nude couple sat on the riverbank and made no effort to hide as we paddled by. You never know what to expect on the river.
The water was much more warm and clear by the time we reached the confluence of the Broad and Congaree Rivers. A man standing on a rock caught 2 nice striped bass in minutes but with the night setting in, we had to continue to the boat ramp. It was dark by the time we reached the highway 12 bridge where we pulled out. As we were leaving, the two men on kayaks passed by with their flashlights out. Ryan had to take one more cast and hooked a smallmouth bass which threw the hook.
This was the first time I had paddled the Saluda River even though the Boy Scouts troop 761 had done it several times, I was never able to accompany them. I am so used to pulling the boat around logs that it was nice to work around rocks for a change. I learned about the river while I was there and so my fishing success will surely improve with my next visit. I want to learn this river because it’s cold water supports a fascinating variety of game fish year round.
