| Tree Branch Steelhead |
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The pre-dawn morning was crisp…plenty of dew, a little fog, and a temperature in the 50’s…all sure signs of an early fall. The creeks remained low and clear with very little current. As I waded across lower Elk Creek in near darkness, a great horned owl greeted me with his well-known interrogatory. My first offing was an olive and black picket pin on a # 14 hook drifted 5 ½ feet below a small chartreuse float. With the extremely dry conditions, there was very little drift. I continued to progress downstream, changed flies a few times, and tried streamer stripping without the float…all to no avail. Maybe it’s still too early for that first steelhead, I thought. As my thermometer confirmed what my knees had suggested, the cool 66-degree water should be quite enticing to the migrating steelhead. As the first small boat was launched just upstream of my position, I changed flies to a # 6 olive wooly bugger. Before I had completed my second retrieve, the second boat was launched. Both perch/walleye fishermen passed as quietly as they could, but my interest in this spot was rapidly waning. Just as the put putting of the third boat was fading, a fish grabbed the wooly bugger and strongly swam upstream. The high pitch of my drag confirmed the first steelhead hook-up of this 2006 fall season. Running out of deeper water on his upstream angle, this first jump revealed his sheer beauty…in a word, BROAD. Broad silver sides revealing only a hint of rainbow hue, the broad head of an older male, and the broad tail of a big fish! After that jump, he turned downstream toward a partially submerged branch, surprisingly avoiding it as he stayed on my side of the obstruction. Time after time, I could feel him shaking his huge head as he attempted to regain freedom. He swam past the branch again on another upstream run, but failed to jump again…simply turning back downstream as he reached the shallower water. “He’s tiring,” I thought. Passing between my position and the branch a third time, he jumped and turned toward the branch upon re-entering the water. As the branches began to shake, I could see the balance of this fight shifting in the fish’s favor. Oh well, the fight was great to this point. I eased up on my pressure hoping he’d swim out of the snag. As a few moments passed, the branch shook one more time…then stopped. Still not being able to feel him, I slowly lifted my rod tip. Only then could I see the fly line bellying upstream! “He’s still on,” I loudly said to myself. It didn’t take nearly as much pressure to control him, and I was able to bring him to net. What a beautiful sight! He weighed 11 # and was just 30 inches long! As he slowly swam away, I uttered prayerful thanks for such a fine seasonal beginning. By Doc Wally on 8-22-06 |
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