The first day was slow. A couple of hits, but nothing solid. Larry and I did fish a spot called *Hotspot Edit* towards the end of the day, where we saw several fish, including a massive buck fighting off other males who were interested in his lady. We got home at about 9:00 PM after fishing for 12 straight hours. We had some great steaks prepared by Yeti, and hit the sack.
The second day we got up early, and headed back to the best spot on the river, the Hole (aptly named for the risk you often take in trying to reach the other side of the river in order to fish)
On our arrival, we saw the same massive buck from the night before, as well as a paired up buck and hen on the opposite side of the river. Larry took the heavy current, and I took the newcomers. I tied on my first fly of the day, a tasty looking Winter Orange, added some weight, and threw my first cast. BAM! The newly paired up buck swiped his head over and nailed my fly. I do a bass-like hook set, the beast jumps and thrashes, but after about 30 seconds he's gone, along with the hen.
We continued to fish throughout morning, but with little results. Around 2:00 PM, I tie on a Winter Orange variation, and set my sights on the faster, deeper current. I made cast after cast, with nothing so much as a look from the steelies in the current. Finally, on about my 30th cast, my fly stops dead in it's tracks. Thinking I had snagged on a rock, I yank at my fly. Suddenly, my reel starts screaming and my line bolts downstream. After a good 10 minutes, I finally pulled in my first-ever steelhead. A beautiful hen.
I went into this trip only hoping to catch a fish, so after my first, everything else was gravy. We fished the rest of the second day, and had several hookups, but were not able to bring anything in. We capped the day off with spaghetti and Aidell's sausage and hit the sack. 14 hours of fishing takes it out of you.I woke up to a beautiful sunrise shining on the Sawtooths, and got ready to hit the water for my last day of steelhead fishing.
After getting a late start, Larry and I made our way down the canyon and sight fished to steelhead at various spots, Finally, we stopped at *Hotspot Edit* where Brett and Tim had claimed the hole. Hours of fishing, and nothing going. Finally, in my frustration I threw on the largest, most annoying fly in my box, a fire orange and bright yellow Double Marabou. I positioned myself about 30 feet upstream of a nesting hen and buck, cast out, and began to swing my fly across the nest. BAM! Fish on! My reel begins to scream, and line starts flying out. After 15 minutes, I get the beautiful 34 inch hen at my feet. As I reach the net down to get her in, she makes one last-ditch jump, throws the hook, and is gone.Dejected, I begin to walk to the banks, but notice a shadow moving just below me. HUGE BUCK! I immediately pull out line, make my first cast, and that sucker hammers that fly like a fat kid on a Twinkie. The beast jumps, thrashes, and takes out a bunch of line. Just as I'm ready to start reeling him in, he makes a horizontal run and SNAP! Broke off. This fish was going to be my fish of a lifetime (to this point), and he was gone. Larry, Brett and I decide that it is time to head off and make our way back to Salt Lake.
I had romanticized what steelhead fishing would be all about. Looking back, I have to say that it was better than what I had imagined. No, I didn't catch a dozen fish. No, they weren't the biggest steelhead in the river. But the taste I got has changed me as a fisherman forever. Instead of thinking about the wild trout that I normally seek, I will be thinking about where I want to chase steelhead straight from the salt. I will be thinking about my next trip to the Salmon. Sure, I will still enjoy fishing the rivers, lakes, and streams of the Wasatch Front, but there will be nothing like my first steelhead.
