Fishing the Upper Spokane: Learning the Rhythm of a Wild River Hiding in Plain Sight
Written by Teeming Streams Fly Fishing Adventures
Most rivers make you drive for solitude. The Spokane makes you earn it in other ways—by listening harder, walking farther, and learning to find patience in the noise of a city that crowds its banks. From the thunder of the waterfall downtown to the quiet, pine-shadowed bends below the treatment plant, this stretch of river is a study in contrasts: wild fish in urban shadows, deep emerald slots tucked beneath power lines, and riffles that sing louder than the traffic above them.
To know this part of the Spokane is to accept that it’s not a postcard fishery. It’s a river with scars, current, and character—one that holds trout far stronger than anyone expects the first time they hook into one. And once you’ve cracked even one of its small seasonal mysteries, you start to see the river differently—not as an urban waterway, but as a living, evolving fishery that rewards anglers who pay attention.
Here’s how experienced fly fishers read this stretch of the Spokane, through the lenses of hydrology, hatches, trout, access, clarity, regulations, and the river’s unique personality.
Hydrology: A Tailwater… With a Wild Freestone Mood
Above the falls, the Spokane behaves like a controlled tailwater. Below the falls, it begins to feel like something else entirely—part tailwater, part freestone, part urban canyon. Water releases from the Post Falls Dam and seasonal hydro operations shape the river’s moods:
Spring: cold, high, fast—boulders disappear, seams soften, and the river pushes hard against basalt banks.
Early Summer: flows stabilize and the river opens up; wading becomes possible in pockets and along the edges.
Late Summer: lower flows reveal shelves, pockets, and midstream boulders that only exist this time of year.
Fall: cooler nights recharge the river, and trout move into riffle heads and seams as flows even out.
The current is always stronger than it looks. Even at reduced flow, the Spokane can shove you off your footing in an instant. Every step demands intention.
But those same flows carve structure that trout love—deep green chutes, pillow seams around basalt blocks, and slick diamond-shaped tailouts that fish better than they look.
Hatches: Sparse but Significant
If you judge the Spokane solely by classic western hatches, you’ll think it’s a low-bug river. If you look closely, you’ll realize it’s simply subtle.
The upper urban reach supports:
Midges year-round
Caddis in late spring and again in early fall
PMDs and PEDs in early summer
A modest golden stonefly presence (more important subsurface than on top)
Terrestrials—especially ants and beetles—from midsummer through early fall
The Spokane doesn't produce textbook blanket hatches, but the fish absolutely key on seasonal patterns. A well-placed caddis along a shaded foam line can make the day. In late summer, an ant drifted tight to the basalt pulls strikes from fish you swore were lifeless in the heat.
Subsurface, the bugs are richer: caddis larvae, mayfly nymphs, sculpin, and the river’s underrated stonefly population.
If you keep your flies low, you’ll feel the current of life down there.
Trout: Wild, Native, and Built Like River Athletes
The upper Spokane holds a resilient and fiercely wild population of native redband rainbow trout—fish made for current, not for posing. They are fast, hot, athletic, and uniquely adapted to this river’s push. Hook a 12-inch Spokane redband and you’ll swear it’s 16. Hook a 16-inch redband and you’ll swear you’ve tied into a steelhead.
A handful of browns show up, and whitefish are common in the deeper troughs. But the redbands are the reason anglers return. There’s something honest about them—no hatchery softness, no dullness of movement. These trout live hard lives in fast water, and they fight like it.
This is a wild-trout fishery in a city that has no business having one.
Access & The Angler Experience
Fishing this stretch is an exercise in creative access. The river drops through steep basalt canyons, around neighborhoods, behind industrial zones, and through pockets of forgotten green space.
Key realities:
Access is available, but rarely obvious.
You find entries through unmarked trails, park pullouts, narrow footpaths, bridge crossings, and a willingness to explore.
Wading is possible in summer and fall but demands caution.
Drift fishing is extremely limited due to hazards and access; this is primarily a wade fishery.
Stealth matters. Sound echoes off basalt walls, and trout slide off feeding lanes the moment they sense pressure.
And yet, for all its urban complexity, the river offers surprising solitude. One bend may roar with city life; the next will be quiet enough that you hear only the hiss of riffles and the wingbeats of a belted kingfisher.
The Spokane gives you moments of wilderness inside a city—and those moments feel earned.
Water Clarity & Aesthetics
Clarity on this stretch of river follows a pattern all its own.
Spring: stained, surging, opaque with runoff sediment
Early Summer: green-tinged and clearing
Mid-Late Summer: classic “Spokane emerald”—clear enough to spot fish if you know where to look
Fall: crisp, glassy, and beautifully transparent
The aesthetics are unexpectedly stunning. Basalt cliffs rise on both sides. Ponderosa pines cling to rocky slopes. Ospreys hunt in the evening. And in the low light of dawn or dusk, the river glows—literally glows—where green water curls over basalt shelves.
It’s a scrappy, gritty, beautiful stretch of river. The imperfections are part of the charm.
Regulations & Conservation
The Spokane’s regulations reflect its fragility and its wild fish:
Selective gear rules dominate this stretch: single barbless hooks, no bait.
Catch-and-release only for all trout species.
Bull trout, when encountered, must not be targeted or removed from the water.
Summer temperatures require stewardship—anglers often adopt voluntary afternoon closures during heat waves.
The river’s health has improved dramatically over the last decade thanks to water treatment upgrades, riparian protections, and community effort. But despite progress, this is still a sensitive fishery. Every release matters. Every careful fight matters. Every skipped mid-day session in August matters.
Fishing here is as much an ethic as it is an activity.
River Personality: Wild Water in an Urban Body
The Spokane River from the falls to the treatment plant is a contradiction made tangible. It is urban and wild, noisy and quiet, scarred and beautiful. It is a river you learn over years, not weekends. A river that rewards small refinements—tighter drifts, softer steps, sharper eyes.
Some days it feels like a puzzle with no solution. Other days it feels like the most honest river in the Inland Northwest—pure, stubborn, proud.
The Spokane doesn’t make anything easy for you.
But that’s exactly why it stays with you.
