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Every year around this time we become a little bit burnt out on this fine Steelhead fishery. Reason being is that we start our quest for chrome during the tail end of the Chinook salmon run in mid October. By the month of February we have put in our time and paid our dues to the tune of roughly 240 hours and by my estimate around 10,000 drifts. Needless to say after this much time on the same body of water you tend to find yourself just going through the motions, watching your indicator, dreaming about May fly hatches and casting a tight loop that is free of any split shot. We started our day on the water at 7 in the morning. The fishing was less than eventful for the first few hours. By early afternoon I had spotted a run that looked very “fishy” and only appears when the water level is above 1200 cfs. Getting into position to drift this run would prove to be difficult and not for the faint of heart. I had a feeling that if I was able to make the river crossing the benefits would outweigh the risk. Kranes was fishing a run 100 yards below me so I forged ahead assuming if the current over took me he would be able to pull me to shore after a brief ride through the rapids. After a few minutes I was safely across the flow with spaghetti legs. I stood on the shore to regain my composure for a bit and then began stripping line off my reel anticipating the first cast. I threw 30 feet of line up into the head of the pool, striped in the slack as my indicator worked its way back down to me and just as the indicator was parallel with my feet the indicator vanished. I raised my rod tip and felt

the pulse of the fish enter my forearm and work its way down my spinal cord. I let out the old war cry “there he is”. Little did I know this would prove to be the most intense Steelhead battle I have ever had the pleasure of participating in. Kranes made his way across the treacherous current to watch me fight this monster. I was able to keep her in the pool for the first ten minutes of the battle. She got away from me and bolted into the fast water and the foot chase was on! Into my backing now I plotted my course back across the rapids with my doubled over rod. Half way through I lost my footing and took a serious dunking in the 35 degree water. I managed to stand back up and hand my rod off to Kranes so I could get to safety. He met me on the other side and handed the rod back off to me to finish the fight. I took my set-up back somewhat reluctantly as I was pretty much spent from the first part of the fight and the ride down the rapids. After another fifteen minutes of give and take victory was mine. A couple of quick photos, a high five and a quick revival she was on her way to procreate. The propensity and will of these fish to survive is a lesson in resilience. Our experience was one that will be forever burned into the psyche of two best friends and Steelhead anglers. We fished that run in solitude for the rest of the afternoon and landed another half dozen world class fish. Needless to say although there were no dry flies involved, our loops were wide open instead of tight, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Just when the monotony and tediousness of mid-winter fishing starts to get you down, a day like this comes along and wipes the slate clean.