Still Waters & Wild Bites: A Fisherman’s Journey to Tahkenitch Lake, Oregon
If you ask me where I’d rather be—any day, any time—it’s with a rod in hand and the smell of freshwater in the air. And if you press me to name one of the most underrated fishing spots on the Oregon coast, I’ll tell you straight: Tahkenitch Lake. Just a few miles south of Florence and west of Highway 101, no flashy signs, no big marinas buzzing with noise. Just trees, sky, and water deep enough to hold stories.
First Impressions
I rolled into the campground late on a Thursday, right around dusk. The place was quiet, just the way I like it. A light mist hovered over the water like a curtain being drawn over the day. I swear you can feel time slow down here. Set up camp, cracked a cold one, and watched the stars spill across the black sky. The kind of night that makes you forget about your responsibilities and has you reminiscing about grandpa.
The Real Deal: Fishing Tahkenitch
Now let’s talk fishing—because that’s why we’re here.
Tahkenitch is one of the few lakes on the Oregon coast that holds largemouth bass, and they get big. First light on Friday, I launched the jon boat and headed for the shallow coves on the western edge. The reeds were thick and the water glassy. Tossed out a topwater frog and BAM—first strike before the sun even cleared the treeline. Pulled in a solid 4-pounder. Not bad for a start.
The lake's also got healthy populations of crappie, bluegill, and cutthroat trout, if you know where to look. I ran a little deeper by mid-morning, trolling a Panther Martin spinner near submerged timber. Got two cutthroat and lost one I still think about at night.
Word to the wise: this lake is full of structure. Logs, stumps, underwater grass beds—perfect habitat for ambush predators. You’ve got to fish smart, but when you connect, the fight is on.
A Little Off the Hook
Fishing aside, Tahkenitch is one of those places where the line between “trip” and “retreat” starts to blur. The lake snakes through forested ridges, and there are little inlets and backwaters that feel untouched. One morning I paddled to a quiet cove and just listened—ospreys calling, fish jumping, wind in the cedars. It’s the kind of quiet that makes you feel small in the best way.
And if you need a break from fishing (not that I ever do), the Tahkenitch Dunes Trail is right nearby. It winds through old-growth Sitka spruce before opening up to massive sand dunes and eventually, the Pacific Ocean. I took a hike one afternoon and stood on the dunes looking west—it felt like standing at the edge of the world.
Final Cast
I stayed four days, caught more bass than I’ll admit to, and left with a cooler full of crappie and a head full of peace. So if you’ve got a rod, a boat, and a few days to lose yourself in the rhythm of cast and catch, come find this lake. But keep it quiet, yeah? Let’s leave some water for the next guy.
