2 Days, 14 years Apart
The late winter grab was savage. It was pure power, bucking, thrashing and running away at a breakneck pace. The cheering section was having a heyday dropping pearls of wisdom as the massive buck jumped not once, twice, or even three times, but five times before it cleared the water.
In the rush of the moment, I was brought back to the picture hanging above my fly tying desk: It’s a picture I will be eternally grateful to have.
Father and son on their first steelhead trip together, holding success in their hands with grins as wide as they could possibly make. The cold crisp morning was classic and my dad hooked up right away in the first run. It was the first time that I had seen in person what a steelhead can do.
I knew there was a solid possibility that my time wouldn’t come on this trip. Our guide worked his tail off to make it happen, and on the last drift before the take out, the fish grabbed the bug and off to the races it went.
Holy crap, so this is what it’s all about. The power of that little buck was striking, resonating back to me in a tune that, I know now, I can’t get enough.
Everyone has their jumping off point: that galvanizing moment which sets you forth on whatever is your life’s passion. That picture shows the first steps of the rabbit hole I was descending into, rapidly.
And I’ve never looked back.
The power of the steelhead goes way beyond the time you spend in the water, hoping that the next cast is the one. It makes you gravitate towards some amazing people and organizations you can align with, allowing you to forge amazing friendships that last a lifetime. Plus, the opportunity to mentor others as you grow is there. Conservation organizations, like the Wild Steelhead Coalition, are out there to graciously accept your volunteer hours and, if you’re so lucky, financial support
I hope I never find the bottom of this rabbit hole.
So, back to the initial battle.
The cheap seats kept sending their opinions on how I was fighting the fish. They said it was all in good fun, but I wasn’t so sure.
It was the first time in a long time where I viscerally wanted to land the fish. It was the connection point from that first day on the hunt for steelhead. The same crew was together. Now, our guide was our great friend, a person I credit, aside of my father, for lighting this fire. Old Man River was there as always, giving his 2 cents on the situation and this time, taking the picture.
These are two very proud moments in my life, separated by 14 years. The path of those 14 years makes me so excited to see what can happen with the rest of my life as a steelhead advocate.
Follow Josh: http://millsfly.blogspot.com/