Available Fishing Guide:
Website: Northwest Fishing Expeditions
Starting Time: 7:00 AM
Location: Skykomish River
Method of Persuasion: Jigs
Setup: Okuma Celilo 9'6" 4-8 Pound Test Rod, Shimano Stradic Reel, 10 Pound Test Hydrofloat
When passion turns into profession, it seems as if the former fades to liking a lone ember shivering in a bed of morning ashes. It is a regal thing when -after 7 consecutive days of rising early in the morning, treading the old haunts and watching my clients go from zero to hero- I find myself rising (yet again) to celebrate the same tradition. Tasting the crisp morning dew exclusively distilled by a morning in the Pacific Northwest and watching the sun glow behind the far hillside never seems to lose it's mystery nor majesty. While the majority begin their mornings listening to NPR, sipping a hot cup of Joe and skirmishing traffic to visit a location they are so keen to leave upon arrival, my new fishing partner and I had the privilege of beginning the day chasing after a most illusive set pectoral fins and missing adipose fin.
The upper slots on the Skykomish looked like a good place to watch two DNE 20 gram floats bob and weave through the ubiquitous seams; off fired the pistol and the subsequent beating of the air with our fishing rods. Lady Luck usually makes an appearance within the first 3 casts of the day, though today she seemed to be distant, moreover shy. Nor the next 30. Mastro and I changed leader material, swapped colors, scents, chanted, danced and traveled water at a pace comparable to the plucking speed of a backwoods banjo player. The Steelhead were tucked cozily in the depressions of the river bed, under their glacier fed, liquid sheets this morning. Defiant and unwilling they were, to participate in the age old game of the "first light bite."
After stumbling through the first 4 slots, we came upon a most unruly spot, one I mentioned in days past how "I rarely casted this piece of water and prioritized it as a lower priority slot." And a lower priority slot it wasn't. So, I watched Mastro sail out a cast. The equation every angler loves is this: one cast plus one float down equals one fish to the bank. Oh, if only life were so simple, we would be such dull creatures. And so goes the equation. I've never seen one of my floats explode, but this Steelhead accosted that 20 gram DNE float down with such vehemence, it wouldn't have surprised me if it did. It ran straight for the deepest, cerulean colored portion of the hole, shook it's head sending shocks up the line. Watching the rod wave angrily back and forth while a fish shakes it's head holds a unique rewards in itself. Running to the surface, it faked a few well planned aerial attempts; it even graced my GoPro Black Edition with some mouth watering, overhead footage. Alas, it surrendered with white flag in fin to fatigue, and my well practiced hand water landing ability. Though dark, it was a winter run buck in good condition, worthy enough for the creel.
True, it is memorable day when a fisherman converts into an angler, and when an angler relinquishes the life of a Steelhead back to nature. The next step (and for some in between) is taking a limit of Steelhead, away from the hatchery. Shortly after punching the heart and marking the date and location on his catch card, another cast was delivered to the same slot. Sure as daybreak, his float disappeared again! A more perfect hook set on the float, I have seldom seen. Like a predictable motion picture, a chrome flash appeared beneath the surface, and the 9'6" Shimano Clarus saluted it's opponent with a top heavy bow. Several minutes later and after a few fantastic aerial displays, the blinding sheet of biological metal lay gasping for breath, flopping amidst the golf ball sized stones of the river bank.
There aren't many days when I'm out gunned and overrun in the world of river fishing, but I could not have been more please with the outcome today. What a treat it was watching my past client, friend and brother reeling in his first brace (limit) of Steelhead on jigs he tied, skill he practiced and water he approached correctly. There is nothing that fulfills me more than watching a student of mine take their tools, make them their own and run with them. Living and guiding in a world supersaturated with the "Steelhead Elitist" attitude, it takes humility by the riverside to redirect and remind me what brought me here in the first place. Truthfully, are we not all casting our lines to accrue: life changing memories, friends who stick closer than Sea Lice, and to learn the lessons in nature that we're too hard-headed to learn in our daily lives? Plus, putting some winter chrome to the bank always helps the cause.
As the number of returning Steelhead begins to dwindle, and the low and clear water will wire their jaws tighter than a vice grip, remember this: there are fish to be "had." To make it more difficult, the remainder of the run will be harvested by the ten percent who tried, tested and true by the elements, have unlocked the secrets of Steelhead. If you're interested in foregoing the learning curve altogether, give me a call. Many tight lines, bent rods, trophy smiles and high fives lie ahead this winter season, if you want them to. Reel Priorities, out.
Rock to rock. Cast by cast.
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Available Fishing Guide:
Website: Northwest Fishing Expeditions