My First Steelhead!

In pretty much every part of the known fishing universe, there is one particular species that is the the Rolls Royce of angling targets. These elite fish include the Striped Bass on the Northeast Coast, the Tarpon in Florida, the Golden Dorado in Argentina and Uruguay, and the "noble" Carp in England. The Pacific Northwest's fish is, of course, the Steelhead. Everyone's heard the "fish of a thousand casts" soliloquy, and anyone who's caught one of these has done very well. If the said fish was over 10 lbs, then you have done very, very, well. If it topped twenty, then you might as well be a demigod. If all that criteria was met, except with a fly rod, then you can drop the "demi" part. After hearing endless stories at the Welches Fly Shop and on the internet, the pressure eventually beared on me, and I decided I must go steelheading.

The problem was, I actually needed to go steelheading. One particular trip to the Deschutes was all set for Steelhead, but when I started seeing trout rise....well, let's just say that that little rainbow put up quite a fight. However, I decided to seal my fate once and for all by going with Bob Toman on the Clackamas River one frigid morning. 

Well, so much for the "thousand casts" part. As soon as I got into Mr. Toman's jet sled, we immediately started pulling plugs. Yippee. The worst part is that plug pulling is one of the only stationary river fishing methods known to man. I have never liked trolling, but the one thing I give dragging a Panther Martin on Timothy is that you're moving. You're constantly fishing over new, untouched water, water that could have the trout of a lifetime. Not the case in plug pulling. Instead, you stay in a part of the river for hours at a time, hoping a steelhead working its way upriver will slam your Flatfish or Tadpolly or whatever the hot lure happens to be. It was also extremely cold that day, under the 30's, and the seats were damp and smelled of cured eggs. My greatest idea of fun. Hours into the trip, we reeled up to change lures and I picked the smallest one in the box. At this point I was hoping for a Pikeminnow or a Trout or something to relieve me of my boredom. At this point, I would love a little aggressive Cutthroat to liven up an otherwise horrible day. I tied the lure on and let it back. Then, just as I was sitting down and imagining if it were possible to catch a trout in this section of the river, my rod slammed over and I set the hook. I reeled and reeled, gave line, and eventually landed an extremely average, 8lb cookie cutter hatchery hen steelhead.

I am peeing while this picture is taken. Didn't notice until after.

 It was still a nice fish, and I could at least say that I've done it. Taking the boat to shore, I unhooked the fish and took a few photos before releasing it, and as the fish swam away, I noticed another boat drifting by, the people forlornly looking at my steelhead. Then I realized something.

Those lucky bastards are holding a trout.