I've had a bunch of change in my life over the last year. I walked away from a major medical event relatively unscathed, retired just before Christmas after nearly 32 years in Public Safety, and turned 60 earlier this month. Perhaps it's a common thing when entering a new phase of life, but I've found myself going through some sort of introspection and redefining what success means to me.
Part of this re-evaluation included a review of my time spent on the river after the recent end to the steelhead season on my home river. Once again I didn't connect with a unicorn and in years past I would have been kicking cats and pushing little old ladies outa my way but this year I had some sort of epiphany on the last day. Yep, some might say I've given up, rolled over, got castrated, or decided the silver is just as good a medal as the gold...and maybe all that's true but I feel pretty lucky to have enjoyed the time I had on the water.
I ended up with 8 days of swinging flies after it looked like the river wouldn't open at all due to hatchery needs...but the stars aligned and it was 'go' time. My first day on the water was so flippin' foggy that it was hard to tell where I was because of the limited visibility and the major river changes after the December floods...yet it was eerily cool.
Once the stagnant air cleared it was game on to find the new runs and hidey holes. And it wouldn't be winter fishing without some rain and snow...
Competition was pretty stiff this year as it was one of the busiest I've seen in a while...but even this didn't get me down for long. In years past I would've gotten all frustrated with the conga line of drift boats or having someone walk up and get ready to low hole me. Don't get me wrong, I had my moments of near hissy fits and considered throwing rocks but then I just chilled and talked with people. Everyone I met was pretty cool, things worked out and I got to spend some pretty cool days on the water.
I brought my pup with me a few times
and my son came up for two days of ping ponging down the river in our rafts....
On the day prior to closing, I was inspired by this fellow who looked to be about 80. It took him a bit, but he made the hike to the river and was out there, thigh deep, slowly swinging his way through one of the runs shown above. I hope I'm still out fishing in 20 years!
On the last day, I decided to head waaaay upstream. The stretches I'd focused on were getting hammered and I just wanted some alone time. I'd heard reliable stories of fish being caught in the area so I left the dog at home and gave it a go.
No unicorns but I didn't see another fisher all day long and I ended up with some fiesty dollies. Then, at the end of the day, when I'd run out of places I could safely cross or wade to, it dawned on me that I'd had a George Bailey-It's a Wonderful Life steelhead season on what I've often referred to as a godforsaken river. Yep, I did not touch a steelhead but my definition of success had changed....I'd met some nice people, saw some beautiful sights, spent some time with my oldest son, made some casts that would have made Ed Ward proud, and overall, I had a great time on the water....so I thought I'd share.
Mike d
Part of this re-evaluation included a review of my time spent on the river after the recent end to the steelhead season on my home river. Once again I didn't connect with a unicorn and in years past I would have been kicking cats and pushing little old ladies outa my way but this year I had some sort of epiphany on the last day. Yep, some might say I've given up, rolled over, got castrated, or decided the silver is just as good a medal as the gold...and maybe all that's true but I feel pretty lucky to have enjoyed the time I had on the water.
I ended up with 8 days of swinging flies after it looked like the river wouldn't open at all due to hatchery needs...but the stars aligned and it was 'go' time. My first day on the water was so flippin' foggy that it was hard to tell where I was because of the limited visibility and the major river changes after the December floods...yet it was eerily cool.
Once the stagnant air cleared it was game on to find the new runs and hidey holes. And it wouldn't be winter fishing without some rain and snow...
Competition was pretty stiff this year as it was one of the busiest I've seen in a while...but even this didn't get me down for long. In years past I would've gotten all frustrated with the conga line of drift boats or having someone walk up and get ready to low hole me. Don't get me wrong, I had my moments of near hissy fits and considered throwing rocks but then I just chilled and talked with people. Everyone I met was pretty cool, things worked out and I got to spend some pretty cool days on the water.
I brought my pup with me a few times
and my son came up for two days of ping ponging down the river in our rafts....
On the day prior to closing, I was inspired by this fellow who looked to be about 80. It took him a bit, but he made the hike to the river and was out there, thigh deep, slowly swinging his way through one of the runs shown above. I hope I'm still out fishing in 20 years!
On the last day, I decided to head waaaay upstream. The stretches I'd focused on were getting hammered and I just wanted some alone time. I'd heard reliable stories of fish being caught in the area so I left the dog at home and gave it a go.
No unicorns but I didn't see another fisher all day long and I ended up with some fiesty dollies. Then, at the end of the day, when I'd run out of places I could safely cross or wade to, it dawned on me that I'd had a George Bailey-It's a Wonderful Life steelhead season on what I've often referred to as a godforsaken river. Yep, I did not touch a steelhead but my definition of success had changed....I'd met some nice people, saw some beautiful sights, spent some time with my oldest son, made some casts that would have made Ed Ward proud, and overall, I had a great time on the water....so I thought I'd share.
Mike d
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