I was sitting here today thinking back on my first steelhead and figured it may not be a bad idea to carry over the article I wrote the afternoon of catching my first steelhead on the swing. It was an amazing experience and once that has changed the course of my life I am sure. Enjoy.
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November 4th 2012
One thing has consumed my mind and free time this fall...Steelhead.
I have spent countless hours researching these beautiful fish, how to catch them, their biology, habits and history...you name it I would read it to try and get a better grasp on what I was up against. I even went as far as to enroll in a Steelhead clinic to try and learn any tips and tricks that I could to land my first steel beauty.
After coming back from seven trips empty handed I choose to head to a river that feeds a great lake I have yet to fish this year. I showed up at the bridge at around 8:15am and was shocked to see 20+ cars parked on the side of the road. As I parked and got setup I noticed 2-4 people exiting a few of the cars...I estimate that there was easily 40-60+ people fishing up this stretch of the river this morning.
I tied on a fly a friend of mine had given me to start off my trip. It was a black salmon hook, a bit of purple and blue flash, bluejay hackle, and some jungle cock eyes. I worked my way upstream from the bridge seeing as most of the float fisherman were sitting downstream and started into the groove of swinging flies. I worked my way up to the bottom of the first pool and started working the far side as I could see a few seams, changes of current and a bit deeper water. I worked this pool up the side for around 45 minutes at which point I switched over to a mcflyfoam egg and started wading further upstream. I was tossing in big mends to try and get my egg down to the bottom but I was not having all that much luck. I spent another 45 minutes or so wading up to the bottom of the next pool and started working a nice section again on the far side of the bank with some nice seams and deeper water.
At this time I watched a few float guys walk up to the start of the last pool I had fished. The first cast one of them had on a nice fish and I started to ask myself why can he pick a fish out of a run that I just went through without any luck. My first train of thought went to getting my fly down to where the fish are holding. I took off my intermediate leader and exchanged it for a 10' fast sinking rio leader. To this I tied on about 3 feet of 12 pound test tippet material and then tied on another egg and started working back through my current run. This started to get my egg down into where I figured the fish were holding so that was a good start.
Around this time the float fishermen below me walked back into the woods looking for other waters to fish and I figured I would wait a while and then wade down and try the pool again. I figured that there had to be a reason the fish he had caught was holding in that pool, and perhaps another fish would take up the cover or feature if I waited a bit. I was not feeling confident with the egg at this point so I tied on my confidence fly. A size 6 Foxee Clouser tied with red flash in the tail and a red dumbbell eye. I waded down and started to work the pool from a logjam right at the start of the run. I would toss my fly straight across the pool and allow it to swing through with the current. I worked my way down and right at the tail of the pool my swinging fly was struck hard. I set the hook and was into what felt like a good sized fish.
Excitement welled up inside of me and I started to pay very close attention to what I was doing. I let the fish run a bit while keeping tension on her and started my first dance with the chrome beauty that had haunted my dreams. I would let her run and then bring in the slack and try to direct her into shallower water so I could net her. Each time she would come into shallower water panic would strike and she would make another run for the pool. We sat and played this back and forth game for several minutes until the fight in her started to wind down. At around the three minute mark I was able to coax her into shallower water, wet my net and finally land her safely...my chest swelled as I stared in awe at the beauty of my prey. I grabbed my camera that is always at the ready in my wader pocket and snapped a quick picture while she was still submerged in the net.
I then gently positioned my hemostats to remove the foxee clouser from the inside of her mouth. I gently placed her in the shallower water beside my rod for one more quick picture...the quality of both pictures are not all that great, they were very quick and hurried as I wanted to return this beauty back to the river system as quickly as possible unharmed.
After the picture I grabber her by the tail, positioned her into slower moving current on the sides of the river and waited for her to recover. Once I felt her strength return I let go and watched as she briskly swam downstream.
I stood in wonder, my heart pounding as I basked in the experience of what just transpired seconds before. I had achieved my goal. I thought back on my previous trip...the 7th outing in a row spanning 2 months. Not a single hit, a single whiff of the presence of fish, or an ounce of luck. Even at that moment I still had the want and drive to continue forward towards my goal of landing a chrome beauty...and as I stood triumphant in the brisk November air I was glad that I never faltered or let doubt creep into my mind.
Side Note: For those interested in size and weight, length was 21-22", which would put this fish at around the 3.5-4lb mark from what I can tell.
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