Lifeline

First of the season...

Super high expectations always tend to be quickly disappointing. Such was the case with the beginning of my steelhead season. The steelhead gods were not too kind to me and they made me wait and truly work for my first fish this Fall...

Ruffed Grouse

It's was the crack of dawn and I was gearing up in the parking lot. The Cross S1 7120 was on top of the Subaru when I heared a whoosh. Three feet away a ruffed grouse landed next to my head and decided to hang out for a bit. I had not seen a grouse this close up since I was eight years old. One flew into our living room window and snapped its neck. My grandfather called the local taxidermist who was happy to get his hands on a "pristine" specimen that hadn't been wrecked by a car or a shotgun shell. For some odd reason, the grouse did not fly away but chose to stay for almost a minute. Even the flash of my camera did little to frighten the beautiful bird. After I moved and the grouse finally flew away, it landed on a branch near my car and is continued checking me out. I took it as a sign that maybe the fishing was about to be great...

A common misconception with fly fishing the Salmon River for steelhead is that you'll be standing shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of guys throwing lead. In reality, there are plenty of places to go where you'll have entire sections of the river to yourself, even on a weekend. Typically, the less people fishing a particular place, the less fish are actually there. However, every now and then, you just might find a little slice of shangri-la.

Solitude

The hang down...

After a morning of swinging some of my familiar haunts, I ran into Patrick Ross of Anglers Lodge and Guide Service. Patrick should be your "go to" guide for swinging flies on the Salmon River. We talked about rods, lines, and the current conditions before I let him have a go with the S1. Soon thereafter, he hooked up on the hang down with a small chromer that he quickly put the brakes on.

Cranking on a fresh one...

We later moved upriver to swing a popular run. I worked diagonally down the water allowing Pat to follow in behind and work more of the gut of the run. Halfway down, Pat hooked up again with a colorful buck. I always find it humbling to watch someone who knows the river so well pick up two fish from right under my nose. Pat is a great guy who is always willing to share some local knowledge and casting/presentation tips. I was left empty handed on my first day on the water but I left with some renewed confidence after watching Pat land two fish in an hour.

A colorful buck...

Day two approached and I hiked into unfamiliar territory to check out one of the few sections of river that I have never fished. It was a long morning and around noon I was started to feel the effects of the drive and lack of sleep from the suicide run north. My confidence began to wane and my casting got a little sloppy. I made it back towards my parking spot and was swinging the very same run Pat picked a fish out of the day before. A bright little fish hammered my tight line swing sending a jolt of life into my very soul. My heart literally skipped a beat and I let out some awkward noises of excitement. My first steelhead of the Fall created a lifeline for me to hold onto and saved my weekend of swinging or going home.

Sometimes the river can give you a good old fashioned ass kicking. That is one of the reasons why I love swinging flies so much on the Salmon River. Once you catch a fish, it puts a little pep in your step. That adrenaline can fuel hours of fishing until the next time your line comes tight into a chrome bullet that almost rips the rod out of your hand.

Tight lines.