I going to be honest, I was dragging myself out of bed this morning to meet up with my buddy, Ryan Spillers, to go steelheading on the Boise River. My hope was to catch a fish before work, which limited my time to just under an hour and a half. My expectations were low, and so was my enthusiasm.
“Erik!” Ryan yelled over to me as he stepped out of his truck.
“Ryan!” I yelled back.
“Ready to catch a steelhead?” He asked, sounding peppy as he gathered his gear. Ryan has been chasing-the-steel in the Boise River a lot this year, and is dialed in to their locations and what the fish may be feeding on.
“Hell yeah!” I said back to him, finding his can-do attitude uplifting.
“Then let’s do it!” He said, and with everything rigged up, we walked to the river.
“Hold on, I want to get a picture of you coming down the embankment.” Ryan said, as he shot down it like a squirrel, then turned with his camera ready.
“Okay, here I come.” I said, as I started to make my way down as naturally as possible.
We got to the river, and Ryan was quick to point out a promising spot.
We split up and started fishing. For me, waiting for an indicator to go under is boring, and is probably the reason I was dragging my feet to get up this morning. I watched as my indicator floated by again and again while talking to it, and to myself… “Okay, now!” I said, willing my indicator to shoot under to indicate a fish had eaten my fly… but nothing.
“Now!” I said again after another cast, but the yellow ball of an indicator stared right back at me, lifeless. This went on for a good hour, and I was losing patience. Which is funny, because I got into fly fishing for my lack of patience.
The day was starting to clear up, which meant time was running out. I shot my line out again and watched my indicator floating downstream, then it jolted under! No matter how long I have been waiting, I am always ready to set the hook, which I did! Boom! Boom! Boom! The tip of my fly rod jolted hard, and my raincloud-mood lifted to a bright sunny day!
“Ryan!” I yelled, as I started walking towards him.
“You got one!” He said happily, before taking out his camera to snap a picture of the fight.
“Ryan, this just made my day!” I said, as the ten foot five weight fly rod was doubled over with the weight of a steelhead.
“I’m glad you got one.” Ryan said back, as I wrenched back on the rod to bring up the head of my fish, and slipped it into my net.
“There we go!” I said, after the steelhead was securely landed.
“Yeah! That’s a nice steely.” Ryan added, as I picked up the fish for a picture.
“What did it take?” Ryan asked.
“You’re not going to believe it.” I said, as I held up the fly.
“Ohhhh!!!” Ryan yelled, “it took the Pico Stone!”
“Yes it did!” I said, laughing.
The funny thing about the Pico Stone, is that I never liked it well enough make it public. It was an ugly fly that I kept in my fly box for a while, because I felt it needed more work. Whatever reason I decided to use a fly I disliked was similar to the feeling I got that made me not want to go fly fishing this morning. And in the end, I was glad I did both… It’s going to be a good day today!
That's really some cool scenery out there. It even looks like you've got the right fishing materials to accommodate the latitude, as well as the catch. Do keep that up, as I'm sure you've got a lot going for you with that fly-fishing thing. It is a really enervating sport, if you think about it. Thanks for sharing that! All the best!
Kathleen Gardner @ Bid 2 Fish
Thank’s Kathleen!
Thank goodness for Ryan's GET UP-AND-GO attitude . Looks like he had more faith in you than YOU ! And he proofed you right , good catch ! ( Dad )