It was the onset of another Steelhead outing. The stage is the fabled waters of the Salmon River in northern New York. Coming in from various parts of the country, the cast members converge in the small mill town of Pulaski. Here we all gathered for some pre-game rituals at a local lodge, preparing for the following day. There we sat tying flies, checking rods, lines, reels and leaders. We reminisced about our past travels together. We relived them through the magic of video, derived from previous trips. It was all in an effort to get charged up for the following morning.We all come from different walks of life; Civil Servants, Dot comers, Sales Reps, Grad students, and Scientists. We are all near thirty years of age, obsessive and compulsive about fly fishing and we all have a pontification for Steelhead. We are a close knit group of individuals that get along well. If there are fish present, we all would drop everything and hop in plane or drive 700 miles in the blink of an eye. Unable to sleep that night due to the excitement which lies ahead, I thought about how each one of my peers had enhanced my time on the water. The majority of my cohorts are seasoned veterans in regard to Steelhead on the fly. Jeremy and Joey hailing from Portland, Maine are as hard core as they come. In the absolute worst of conditions these guys will trudge on in the face of adversity. Nymphing enthusiasts and striper guys at heart, they fly fish with perseverance and it usually always pays off. Jason is a Western New York Native, currently residing in the Park City area of Utah and is well traveled in regard to the fly rod. By incorporating west coast tactics he never fails to fool a good number of fish with his offerings. Nate, my long time fishing buddy, has excelled by leaps and bounds when it comes to reading water and sniffing out chrome. We started fishing the Salmon together about ten years ago and have learned quite a bit through our trials and tribulations. Keith was the “new guy” on this trip and a Steelhead virgin. During our introduction I asked myself a million questions. Can he withstand sub-zero wind chills? Tolerate having his feet submerged in thirty-two degree water for eight hours? Handle treacherous river crossings? Breaking ice out of his guides every fifth cast? Not stopping for lunch? Cover eight to ten river miles a day? Either way, my intent was to have him land his first Steelhead and experience that eternal moment for himself.Everything went off without a hitch. We found the areas where the fish were holding, presented our flies with a natural drift and soon after we all had bent rods, including Keith! It is a pleasure to be in the company of experienced anglers who have such a deep respect for the quarry they pursue. Catch, photo and release (CPR) was and is the standard procedure for all of the fish we bring to hand. To me there is no moment more intimate, on the water, than the half a minute I get to spend with these majestic fish before they are released.It wasn’t that long ago when eight hours on the water would pass in the blink of an eye without so much as a take. Things these days are a little different. The skunk is usually the exception rather than the rule. I believe there comes a time in every die-hard steelheaders career that they become aware of the time they have put in and the dues they have paid. All the knowledge that has been accumulated morphs and congeals. In that instance you feel that you actually deserve those thirty seconds you are spending with your trophy.