PA Steelhead Guide - local knowledge, expert guidance, the fish of a lifetime

Just as every fish is different in its’ fight, every first fish is special and unique.
 
Well, it was late August, the 26’th to be exact, and this is the first “steelhead stream story” of the 2004-5 season.  Last week I had seen a single pair of steelies in lower Walnut Creek and a few fish have been caught in Walnut and lower Elk at night, but nothing else of significance has been reported.

My fishing buddy and I began at 6:30 AM just after first light.  I was using a small white maribou streamer (# 10) with a gold-ribbed hare’s ear nymph (# 14) dropper on 6# fluorocarbon.  A small float about 4 ft. above the streamer completed my terminal gear.

Shortly before 7 AM, my dead drift was interrupted by a hard strike!  I firmly lifted the rod as the float continued to sink upstream.  “Fish on …. good one,” I announced.

At first the large fish didn’t know it was hooked, nor – in fact – it’s very concept!  With the disbelief of a creature whose adult life, thus far, had been devoid of human contact, he swam first in a clockwise semicircle, then a counter-clockwise one.  Just as Jim kidded about it being something small like another Gobi, the large silver fish erupted 4 feet straight up in the air and headed down stream leaving no doubt of his identity nor size!

Several long runs ensued, first downstream, then back up toward the holding spot where he was hooked.  Three or four times more he jumped. Each time, straight up from 3 to 5 feet (over 2 body lengths each time).  At the apex of each vertical jump, he became motionless, his back arched, as he awaited gravity’s return to his place of familiarity and comfort.

After one more long run toward the creek’s mouth, he tired.  I retrieved my line quickly and gradually placed increasing pressure on this great fish until he was at my side and able to be gently beached.  He looked down at my hands as I gently but firmly removed the small nymph from the corner of his mouth.  I reassured him that he was to be released, further explaining that this entire experience was some kind of a bad dream and reassuring him that real nymphs are, indeed, fine table fare, but cautioning that not all fishermen are as gentle nor prone to release fine steelhead as are my friend and I.

While I held his broad-based tail and revived him, he actually seemed to understand my reassurances.

Moments later, he slowly swam away in the 70 degree August water hopefully remembering no pain, no fear, merely the kind words and encouragement of a fellow creature.  He was an un-blemished male, 30 in. long, 9# whose interaction I’ll not forget! 

A short story by Doc Wally.