My First Steelhead

I wrote this four years ago.  Still gets my heart pumping!

My First Steelhead

I had not seen my cousin Adam in 15 years.  The last time we were together he came up to about my shoulder.  When he found out that I was going to be visiting with his father / my uncle, this Fall, he immediately dropped what he was doing so that we could reconnect at my uncle’s camp in the Adirondack mountains of NY.  My uncle is an avid hunter and fly fisherman and he raised his sons to be the same.  In fact, it was Adam and his younger brother Richard who gave me my first fly casting lesson when I was about 22 years old.   Thus Adam would have been around 13 at the time.  I will be 37 next month.  In the 15 years that I did not see Adam he became a man.  A very large and very strong man, to boot!  When he and his best friend Todd rolled into camp I immediately jumped up and ran out to greet them.  Adam leapt from the truck and the bear hugs and wolf howls started instantly.

The conversation flowed from how many fish we were going to catch to how happy we were to be together after all these years.  Those two topics weaved continually into  the catching up conversation.  We laughed, sang, toasted and even shed a couple of tears.  This lasted into the wee hours of the morning.  Every time one of us threatened to go to bed the chat would take another inescapable turn.  Knowing that Adam (because he is insane when it comes to fly fishing) wanted to be up at 3:00AM Tod, Adam and I finally crawled into our beds at about 1:45AM.  My wife was happy to see me but unhappy about the hour!  Sure enough we were up at three.  We pulled our waders on in the camp dining room, Uncle Dick got up and made us a pot of hot coffee and sent us on our way. 

We were going to fish the salmon river in Pulaski, NY.  This river is known for its world class steelhead fishing.  It is interesting to note that in NY one must wait until first light to fish, otherwise it is illegal.  Adam had us at the river approximately one hour and forty-five minutes before first light.  We walked along a path that lead to a stretch of river that runs along route 81.  We hiked down a slate waterfall to a path that ran along the rivers edge.  Adam was so thrilled that we were the first ones there.  Tod and I just laughed.  No one, and I mean no one would show up on this river nearly two hours before they could start fishing.  But I’m so glad we did.

There had been a good dusting of snow and as we walked the path the sound of  our wading boots cracking the brittle crust of ice that had formed in the tiny inlets coupled with the crunch of snow were the only sound.  With head lamps in place and our rods rigged we found our way through the pitch dark until we reached the spot.  Each of us 25 feet apart sat in total silence.  Praying, nodding off, strategizing in our minds what approach we would each take to be the first to hook a fish and considering the utter peace and solitude of the moment turned our two hour wait for the sun into one of my best memories from this Fall.

The light arrived and the three of us stood in unison almost ceremonially.  We made our way into the current and began to cast.  This was only my second time steelhead fishing and the technique we started with is a little bit tricky.  I don’t particularly care for it but I was filing the “chuck and duck” tactic under the category of “when in Rome do as the Romans do”.  For those of you who don’t know what chuck and duck is, someone found that you could make your fly cast longer, deeper and with less likelihood of getting tangled on a rock if you rigged your leader with a small packet of split shot contained in a length of parachute chord.  The call it a “slinky” and it is a very controversial method amongst fly fishers.  It lacks any of the grace and beauty typically found in fly fishing.  My fly fishing mentor, Al Seavey does not use the slinky system but consistently takes large fish using a system of fixed weight about 3 feet up from his fly.  It still looks like the chuck n duck but gives the fisher more control over the amount of weight.  Then enters the philosophy of  the boys of Eldredge Bothers.  Young Tom, Old Tom and Jim run a fly shop in Cape Neddick, Maine.  Part of what makes their shop so great is that they offer premium gear and wisdom without any of the pretense often found at such shops. 

On my way from Massachusetts to New York I called Jim to have him re-explain their tactic for taking steelhead on the Salmon river.  It involves a float, a small piece of tube lead and a swivel.  It looks a lot more like fly fishing than the slinky approach and as Tod, Adam and I made our way to our second stretch of river I could hear Jim’s words like a mantra echoing in my brain.  “Chuck the chuck n duck….. chuck the chuck n duck…..” 

We hiked down into what is known as the Paper Mill Pool.  Gorgeous open water with an even gravel bottom and dotted with beautiful riffles, runs and pools.  As I waded out I  thought to myself that this water was just begging for a more classic approach.  It is difficult to break from the group.  Tod and Adam are master fly fishermen who have been doing this their entire lives and yet each of them were using very different approaches.  I am a beginner compared to these fellows.  Yet Jim’s words to chuck the chuck n duck were still ringing in my ears.  I removed my level line slinky rig spool from my reel and replaced it with the #7 weight forward spool I had tucked away in my vest.  I rigged as old Tom at the fly shop had instructed and began to cast.  It felt like fly fishing and if well timed I was even able to  false cast this system.  I began to dead drift my sparkle  egg pattern just like I would for rainbows and browns on my home rivers.  About ten casts in my indicator twitched, I raised my rod tip and was instantly reminded of one of the beautiful truths of fly fishing which is ; rocks do not take line.

 “There he is!”  I exclaimed joyfully.  “Hold on Jimmy!  Hold on!  I’m coming down” shouted Adam who was clearly as excited for me as I was for myself.  I played that fish under the helpful supervision of my younger cousin and dear friend.  Every time he told me to let him take line the fish would tear off a couple of yards.    When Adam instructed me to put a little more pressure on him I would tighten up and carefully reel.  When we netted the 9lb 30” steelhead we noticed by his dark color that he had been in the river for quite a while.  We made our way to the bank and I held my fish in proud fashion while Adam snapped a picture.

We released my first steelhead back into the icy current of the great Salmon River.  A bear hug and a couple of whacks on the shoulder and clear communication that we were so thankful to have had this time together.  He was not the biggest fish in the water but he fought hard.  I was not the most seasoned fisherman on the water but as I landed my first steelhead I was taken by the number of faces and voices in my mind that have contributed to my fishing and how I am seeing the result of being blessed by the company I keep.  I called Al Seavey from the river and shared every detail of my catch.  He ended the call by telling me to go catch another.  Who is helping you to become the _____________ you long to be?