Kicking it old school

Where do I begin....Let's start with this...

Searching for winter Steel Head is never a warm endeavor. I've fished colder...Frozen guides, chapped lips, chilled fingers and snott-cicles....These are the things that steelheaders endure to chase those silvery, rose cheeked torpedos.....

I had a busy week at work...Tax season and college refund checks have arrived...everyone wants a tattoo...yesterday....that being said...I have a bad back...Sciatic pain runs down the family tree..I have met it..My back already hurt from a long week, I decided to play chase with my cat Bugger...while tossing his deer hair mouse, something went horribly wrong. I felt the dreaded pop....The slow burn manifested into searing pain...my lower back was on fire...Excellent...

The alarm goes off at 5:30am...I try to roll out of bed...only to find my face glued to the pillow with snot from my lingering cold...I break the bond...my face comes off with a rip and I go to step down only to find that my left leg does not want to work...I come very close to crumbling on the floor in a pile of man and beard...not wanting to be defeated...I mustered up the strength to get past the discomfort and made my legs work...Every step shot fire from my lower back to my knee...I try to get dressed...Oh man...I've ever worked so hard to put socks on before...Finally finished it's time to hit the road...

I'm cruising down the highway...about 45 minutes into my 2 1/2 hour journey..my stomach decides it wants in on the action....I ate pizza the night before. I need to start listening to my inner self more...I know I shouldn't have done that..My lady's words ring in my ear..."babe...you are lactose intolerant."...me of course being a man that cannot be held back, a man that will never be forced to live a life without the food group "pizza."...I pay the price...I make several stops along the way...In the end..I realized, it wasn't the pizza, not the delicious melted cheese that I hold so near and dear, but the simple fact was that my butt and the toilet seat were having separation anxiety....they needed to be together...

I make it to the river...a little late..but made it none the less...I gear up...it was a slow paced affair to say the least...I begin the trail walk...slip, and bam...something popped again...only this time it was that pop that saved my day...everything aligned...my pain went away and I could walk more like me, not like
the hunchback....

I meet up with the guys...Rusty Spinner and Ben....The Steel Head followed...My first cast put me on a fish....it was short lived, I broke off...Several more hookups throughout the day by all....

Fishing with these two guys is a pleasure...laugh, smile, joke around and catch fish. It's that simple...They know their stuff and utilize it well. These guys get on fish, hands down two great steel headers...I learn every time I fish with them.

I was fishing my 1960's Fenwick 9ft 9wt glass rod, and a made in the USA Pflueger Medalist 1495 1/2...A perfect drift...the take...an epic battle ensued...I brought a beautiful Steel Head to hand...the first of the season that I landed...With my 50 year old gear...

photos courtesy of Mr. Spinner

I hook into a beast later in the day....one bad mama jamma steel....It takes me into backing on the first run...get a little back, goes again...I finally have to give in and follow it down stream a bit...A huge jump...another run....I get my line back...another jump....Ben shouts out how big it is...the excitement grows, Rusty Spinner is ready and steady with the net....pressure to the bank, the head shaking continues....my rod tip banging up and down....I get the fish almost within net's reach...then slack line...the hook straightened out...the one that got away..from what we could see, the estimate was around 16lbs....next time...