Whose been fishing??

Not you, I hope. But we'll admit this was in a slightly warmer part of the country...


After far too many hours on the road, we arrived in steelhead country as the sun dropped out of the sky like someone flicked the switch. Every single beam of light illuminating the scenery disappeared in a matter of minutes, oh the good ole north. Our fishing would have to wait for morning.
Ten hours, a full belly of Storks Nest breakfast, and five layers later we headed to the river with a plan. Spot #1 was taken, a shame since it looked great so we headed to #2, a short walk and we came upon a beauty of a run (and it had a log jam!!- I only catch fish near log jams.)
As a true gentleman should do, Brent let me lead through the run but it didn't last long. I have a nasty habit of taking my sweet time, I don't want to miss anything! It wasn't long before Brent leap-frogged in front of me (with my consent, of course.)
It wasn't a great cast, or even a decent cast- like the one before it and the many before that, it sucked! It had been a full year since I cast a spey rod and it was taking some getting used to. The swing on the other hand, was perfect and there was no question when he ate and certainly less when he peeled off a few turns of backing.
Due to the fabulous skills of my personal fish photographer I was able to get a shot of my second steelhead to hand. Not as big as numero one but just as special in every way. A beautiful fish, another river on the list and a great day.

The fly that tamed the beast? Idylwilde's Bruiser.

(For the record, I took the afternoon off feeling like my day was complete and let Brent land three pretty hens.)
More stories from our trip up north to come, stay tuned!