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 need to get 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 swells 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 wild section and scenic of the Rogue River. Rainie Falls, which this time of year plunges ten feet over boulders and rocks, becoming a solid Class Five river rating, seems virtually impossible to navigate from any direction. on the north side of the river. However, if you’re willing to make the two-mile trek to this small but natural wonder, you’ll be rewarded with one of the greatest shows on earth.

Salmon and Steelhead’s jump as they attempt to scale the thunderous falls is a sight to behold.

For most people, the closest they’ll get to witnessing this incredible show of strength is when they pick up the remote and switch to the National Geographic channel just in time to see a one-dimensional cluster of pixels in slow motion. 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 that they can procreate and DIE.

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

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

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

But I am so I.

The fish of the Rogue River have different intentions and God bless them for the effort they make to keep the species intact.

On this early fall day the fish are extremely active and it almost seems like some kind of fishing Olympics are taking place here at the falls. Sometimes four to six fish can be found in the air at once. These are also big fish, some weighing as much as fifty pounds.

It seems that each fish has its own method of attacking ten feet high, some take a big arcing rainbow leap, some launch into the falls like a bullet, and some spin in 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 style from him watching salmon.)

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

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

Amazing.

Think about it, these little critters, 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 out time” at the falls than what Michael Jordan has put on display at the basketball court. They could even take the twenty million dollars they would pay an athlete and put it toward Salmon and Steelhead habitat restoration!

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 in the falls. It’s hard to believe there’s such a huge 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 himself in 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 downriver, but the trail isn’t that worn, there are rocks, streams, and blackberries to navigate, and plenty of bear signs along the way. We hiked up to Whiskey Creek and fly-fished for a while on some of the Rogue River Canyon’s legendary half-pounders.

The days are shorter this time of year, so be sure to leave plenty of time to make the round trip – with our late start, we only had about an hour and a half of fishing time, and we got out right on the darkness.

For the most part, 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 on their quest to return to their birthplaces, I defy you not to walk away with a healthy respect for Salmon and Steelhead- -and perhaps for the great spirit and determination of survival of the species in general.