12 hours ago
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Years ago on a trip to Eastern Washington I was reunited with my son I did not know I had. It was odd at first, he did not look anything like me; tall, fugly, dimples, brown hair and always smiling. I was bewildered, dumfounded and uncertain of how such a thing could happen. After a long conversation we decided to go fishing. If this boy was my minion, my progeny he had to have some kind of fly fishing skills. When we got to the first spot on the river, my boy tripped over my lab, breaking his mighty STH reel that looked as if it was drug down a road by a semi tuck. This first sign of clumsiness was an eye opener and a sign that he really could be my boy. But then a light bulb turned on when he asked me if I had duct tape.
Years have past since that meeting and we have spent many days on the river. Last week he spent several days on the mighty Olympic Peninsula catching the mighty steelfaces. He called me and asked if I wanted to do a little fishing. After seeing a narrow window of hope in the weather forecast and knowing there will be a few steelfaces around a couple local streams, I decided it was a good idea. After all there is nothing more special then fishing beautifully with my boy.
The river was off color, greenish brown with a foot of visibility one minute and then a few inches the next. The constant downpours, melting snow and wind made things a lot more fun. Since I forgot the trusty box of moose turds, bombers and smuddlers, I went for the trusty caballero egg.
IT WAS NOT EPIC! But we caught some fish while everyone else was bitching about how the rivers were not in shape. Overall it was good times with the boy, the kid saved the hatchery puppy from drowning and the Busch Light was refreshing. I also caught my first fish of 2009!