A Life Shaped by Rivers and Wild Steelhead

I spent an afternoon last weekend with Bill McMillan. muself and about 150 friends who are members of my local fly club, Clark-Skamania Flyfishers. I’ve met Bill and talked to him many times. I’ve heard him speak at fisheries hearings and dinner banquets. I’ve got a copy of each of his books. Whenever I land a wild steelhead, which has been often lately, I send a little thank you to Bill. And most of all, I thank Bill for pulling together a bunch of guys to start the fly club where I found a home in fly fishing.

McMillan stands at the heart of Washington’s fly fishing and conservation history. More than any angler, he has been a writer, organizer, and advocate whose life story mirrors the rise of wild steelhead conservation in our state. Bill’s story blends a personal journey of fishing passion with a lifelong commitment to protecting rivers and the fish that define them.

McMillan grew up on the banks of the Columbia River near Camas, Washington. His father, who operated a dry goods store in Camas, introduced him to fly fishing. By his teenage years he was tying his own flies and learning to read the water. What began as a boyhood fascination quickly became a vocation: living on rivers, observing their changes, and dedicating himself to their future.

In the 1970s, after moving into a cabin on the Washougal River, McMillan witnessed firsthand the profound effects of hatchery programs. The once-diverse runs of wild steelhead and salmon gave way to uniform hatchery returns, a loss that deeply troubled him. Rather than remain silent, he responded by organizing.

In 1975, he co-founded Clark-Skamania Flyfishers. He insisted the club take on conservation as a central mission. The group became known both for fly fishing education and for pioneering snorkel surveys of wild fish on the Wind River and others. That work got the attention of Washington fisheries managers and led to the designation of the Wind as the state’s first wild steelhead gene bank river. That accomplishment in turn earned recognition from what was then called the Federation of Fly Fishers, or FFI as it is known today. FFI awarded the club its McKenzie Cup for outstanding accomplishment by a fly club.

Writing also became one of McMillan’s tools. His first published piece was a pointed critique of hatchery management. Later, his book Dry Line Steelhead (1988) blended fishing technique with conservation insight, inspiring anglers to see beyond their catch toward the bigger picture of sustaining wild runs. Over time, he found himself less interested in writing about technique and more compelled to speak for the fish themselves.

In addition to helping found Clark-Skamania, McMillan also was a founding member of Washington Trout (later renamed the Wild Fish Conservancy), an organization that helped secure catch-and-release regulations for wild summer steelhead in Washington. His advocacy was rooted in a clear message: hatcheries could not replace the ecological and cultural value of wild fish. “We’re well in route to extinction,” he warned in a 2010 interview, pointing to the collapse of steelhead from an estimated 100,000 in the Skagit River in 1895 to just 2,500. His skill surveying and documenting steelhead runs in dozens of Puget Sound rivers gave his studies real value for sportsmen and fisheries managers alike.

Yet McMillan’s voice was never one of fear or dread about the future. He spoke often of joy—the joy of a fish rising to a fly, the joy of living beside rivers, the joy that fueled his activism. He believed that conservation was not born of anger but of love for nature and the experiences it provides.

That joy was present when Bill took the stage Sept. 13 at Bethany Vineyards north of Vancouver. The years have softened his voice and slowed his gait, but his joy in looking out on a crowd of conservationists like him was apparent. He proudly wore on stage his battered old Clark-Skamania hat, the first one the club created back in the 1970s. And when he finished his remarks he declared it was time for a new hat and pulled on our newest edition Clark-Skamania hat as the crowd got to their feet with applause.

Bill was there to celebrate the endurance of a fly club he helped found. We were there to thank him and the eight other Clark-Skamania founders who are still with us today. It was a reminder that anglers bear witness to changes on the water and hold a responsibility to act. McMillan’s words carry an enduring challenge: to savor the joy of our fisheries, and to pass that joy forward by protecting the environment that make them whole.