Fishing Bluebill Lake, Coos Bay, Oregon

Bluebill isn’t a massive lake — about 40 acres, enough to feel like a proper fishing spot but small enough that you can actually see the trout laughing at you if you miss a cast. It’s seasonal, too, which means some years it’s a sparkling jewel of a lake, and other years it’s more like a glorified puddle. That’s part of its charm… or its cruelty, depending on how much coffee you’ve had and how early it is when you show up.

Fishing Bluebill Lake, Coos Bay, Oregon

I’ve fished a lot of places in Oregon — muddy rivers, slick jetty rocks, even a lake where I swear the trout were just trolling me for sport — but Bluebill Lake… Bluebill Lake is different. It sneaks up on you like a clever little cousin you didn’t know you had. You drive in, the GPS says “you have arrived,” and you look around like, “Really? This is it?” But then you see the lake glinting through the shore pines and suddenly the world is quiet, except for the occasional bird chirp and your own triumphant man‑voice exclaiming, “I found it!”

I set up camp at Bluebill Campground, one of those quiet little spots with 18 sites, potable water, and vault toilets that smell suspiciously like victory. After staking my claim, I wandered down to the lake for a scouting mission. The Bluebill Trail loops around the lake, about 1.2 miles, giving you plenty of opportunities to bump into marshy wetlands, soft sand, and deer who stare at you like you’re the punchline to a cosmic joke.

Fishing here is all about rainbow trout. These little dudes are the main event, stocked by ODFW, which makes them more approachable than the grumpy old trout in the backwater rivers that glare at you as if to say, “You again?” Stocking day is magical. The lake is teeming for a while, and you get the sense the fish are thinking, “Free buffet? Don’t mind if we do.”

The trick is patience. And stealth. Trout at Bluebill are like that friend who pretends they’re busy but are really eavesdropping from across the room. You need light gear, small lures, maybe a fly if you’re fancy, and a willingness to crouch behind a bush like some kind of trout-ninja. If you’re clumsy like me, it also helps to bring a friend who laughs at your misfortunes. And maybe a beer.

Timing is everything. Early morning and evening are best. Midday, the sun cooks the lake, and trout retreat to deeper pockets, which coincidentally are also the spots where your tangled line will mock you relentlessly. In wetter years, the lake is fuller, and fishing is easier. In drier years… well, let’s just say you may find yourself giving motivational speeches to puddles.

After a morning of heroic casts and modest catches, I like to hike the dunes. The Oregon Dunes are dramatic, massive, and apparently have a grudge against anyone wearing white socks — sand finds a way. But it’s fun. You can mix in a little adventure: hike, fish, hike, fish, maybe hop down to the nearby Pacific if you’re feeling ambitious. It’s not just a lake, it’s a whole weekend plan.

Camping here is also part of the charm. Nights are quiet enough to hear your own thoughts, and trust me, after an entire day of thinking about trout, your brain appreciates the break. There’s a fire ring, the smell of pine, and maybe the occasional raccoon who thinks your cooler looks like fine dining. Just remember: pack out your trash, or you’ll have a very judgmental wildlife committee.

Bluebill Lake isn’t about trophy trout or adrenaline-pumping catches. It’s about the experience: the mix of dunes, wetland, forest, and water; the quiet; the subtle challenge of reading the lake; and yes, the humor in failing gracefully at fishing. I like to think of it as nature’s way of saying, “Hey, man, you’re not the center of the universe… but you’re welcome to fish here anyway.”

By the end of the weekend, you leave with a few trout, a lot of sand in your boots, and stories — both true and slightly exaggerated — to impress friends back home. You also leave with a little grin because somewhere in that lake, a rainbow trout probably just shook its head at you and thought, “Good try, human.” And honestly, that’s exactly the kind of challenge you want from a fishing getaway.

Gear Recommendations:

Rod & Reel: I prefer a light spinning rod, 6–7 feet, paired with a spinning reel in the 1000–2500 size range. You don’t need a tank here; finesse rules.
Line: 4–8 lb monofilament or fluorocarbon. Trout see everything in small, shallow lakes, so you don’t want to announce yourself from a mile away.
Lures: Small spoons, inline spinners, or tiny crankbaits. I like a silver or gold color for those sunnier days and a bit of pink when you want to add flair.
Bait: Worms, salmon eggs, or PowerBait can work if you want to slow down and let the fish come to you. Just don’t be that guy who throws half a sandwich in the water — trout are not impressed.
Fly Gear: If you’re feeling fancy, a 4–6 wt fly rod works great with small nymphs, dries, or streamers. The shallow margins and vegetation make for perfect sight fishing.

Tips and Tricks for Bluebill:

Timing is everything: Early mornings and evenings are the best. Midday can be brutal, especially in the summer when the lake gets warm and the trout retreat to deeper pockets.
Stealth is key: These trout are small but sharp. Move slowly, avoid casting shadows on the water, and try not to stomp through the trail like a man possessed.
Use the trail to your advantage: The Bluebill Trail loops around most of the lake. Walk quietly, scout for promising pockets, and change spots often.
Target structure and cover: Trout like to hide near submerged vegetation, overhanging bushes, or near the boardwalked wetlands. Think of it as their version of a cozy couch.
Keep tackle light: Big, heavy lures will just scare the fish and strain your patience — and nobody wants that.
Check water levels: Seasonal fluctuations are extreme. If the lake is low, the fish may be concentrated in tiny pockets, which can be fun… or a test of your patience.