Steelhead Creek

In order for the title of this fish-tale to make sense, I need to put it in context. Zac, is my cousin from Memphis Tennessee. We have been fishing together ever since I can remember. As we both grew older, there were always two things that remained intact. Fly fishing and music. Our last fly fishing trip together was about 5 years ago. Zac came in from Memphis and we fly fished up and down the Northeast coast. Stripers and trout in Rhode Island, trout in the Berkshires and Salmon, Trout and Stripers in Maine. We traveled hundreds of miles with fly rods, guitars and cd’s of our favorite music. To kill time in the car we often wrote lyrics to the chord progressions we came up with the night before. From sun up until sun down Zac and I would either be on the water or in the car traveling to another fly fishing destination. We would crash where ever we could and free was usually our price range since neither of us had much money. He was just finishing up college and I was starting a new company. So, night time usually found us crashing at some friends house somewhere on the East Coast. Inevitably, some sort of party would be taking place. We would usually plug in and play various Blues, Lynard Skynard, Bob Dylan, Alman Brothers, Elvis and Greatful Dead tunes and mix in some of our own tunes. Most of the time, the parties involved allot of beer so our audience was not to particular about the sound. Thank god. Actually, by the end of the night people were usually fighting for the microphone and joining us in butchering cover tunes that would have made the original artists roll over in their graves. Anyway, the tune that accompanies this song, “Hard Way” is one that Zac and I wrote way back when. Though the lyrical content was not originally written with “fly fishing” as the premise, it certainly fits in nicely with our most recent steelhead trip. Zac had never fly fished for steelhead. He really had no idea what to expect, but he certainly “learned the hard way” that it ain’t easy. This was one of the best fly fishing trips I have been on in a long time. First and foremost, I got to spend some time with one of my oldest fishing buddies. It was just me and Zac and just like old times. It did not take long for both of our everyday worries and issues to disappear and find ourselves right back where we were when we were kids. We got up before the sun, traveled hundreds of miles to different rivers and creeks, listened to music and fly fished until the sun went down. Initially we were having a tough go at finding the steelhead. We were catching lots of small brown and rainbow trout, but no steelhead. I was trying to explain to Zac what it is that we were looking for. Then, he found out for himself…the hard way. “Jer, I got one!” I looked upstream and Zac’s fly rod was doubled over and a steelhead was tearing him up. I made my way up to Zac as he tried his best to battle this beast in the super small creek. The steelhead ended up getting downstream of Zac and into the fast water and Zac “learned the hard way” that his first steelhead was not going to come in without a serious battle. Zac actually said to me, “Oh my god, I though it was hard to trick them but it’s even harder to land them.” Zac now knew what we were chasing and he was hooked. We worked our way upstream and I was casting into some unproductive water. I was starting to think that Zac had hooked the only steelhead in this creek. Then Zac said, “Hey Jer, I just saw a fin up by that waterfall.” I looked up at the falls and there wasn’t just one fin, there were dozens of fins. Then the steelhead started trying to jump up the waterfalls. I made my way closer with polarized glasses and saw countless huge steelhead right at our feet. Zac and I stepped up to the run and started drifting. We hooked so many steelhead it was outrageous. We lost count. They were pouncing on any brightly colored fly that came drifting down the waterfall. Zac got beat up a few more times by the steelhead, but then he figured out the steelhead game. Zac dialed right into the drift and dialed into the tactics he needed to use to land these big steelhead in small creeks. Zac hooked a monster. The steelhead tore upstream and down. Zac stood is ground and played the fish perfectly. Zac’s first steelhead finally came to hand and the smile on his face was well earned. After dozens of snags, lost flies, lost fish, cold hands, freezing feet, lost leaders and more frustration than most people could tolerate; Zac’s hard work paid off. That is what makes steelhead fly fishing so great. There are so many reasons to quit and throw in the towel. There are so many factors that work against the fly angler. But, when all of those things are overcome and all the lessons have been learned the “hard way” the reward and sense of satisfaction is sweat. Zac, thanks for coming steelheading with me. I am so glad that I finally got to share one of my greatest passions with you, rather than just showing you pictures and trying to explain. I have a feeling we will be doing it many more times throughout our lives. I hope so.