There are a couple different varieties of steelhead anglers out there in the world. First, you have the casual fan, the one who likes to get out and chase steelies around from time to time – especially when the river’s perfect and it’s in somebody else’s boat. Then, you have the small, masochistic, semi-antisocial, diabolically obsessed, over-the-top society of incurable lunatics.
When it comes to steelheading, there’s not a lot of gray area between the two. You’re pretty much one or the other. To help you figure out which category you fall into, read over the following statements. If you can’t relate to many of them, you’re probably living a healthy, normal and productive life. On the other hand, if you can relate to most or all of these, welcome to the club, brother…
You can tie an egg loop in the dark.
You own more stuff made out of Gore-Tex than cotton and denim combined.
You don’t mind the smell of Mike’s Shrimp Gel Scent…in fact it actually makes you a bit hungry sometimes.
You had a subscription to STS before you could read.
You have an almost unhealthy love of fleece.
You almost get turned on by a perfectly-cured skein of bait.
You feel like it’s your birthday when you see emerald green water on the way to the put-in.
You once did a book report at school on Herzog’s Color Guide to Steelhead Drift Fishing.
You skim over emails that say “Mariners Tickets” and “Awesome Bikini Pix” in the subject line and instead open the one titled “Steelhead Road Trip Next Week?”
You wish you’d gotten a chance to fish with Willie Illingworth.
You get depressed on sunny days.
You’ve considered re-locating to Woodland, WA.
You never call ‘em “metalheads.”
You know how to properly spell and pronounce “Lamiglas.”
You’d skip a date with Megan Fox to fish the Kispiox.
You wish you could have gone with Lewis & Clark.
You have inhaled way too much smoke from burning parachute cord.
Your idea of a perfect evening is having a beer with Gary Loomis.
You own a pair of Lead Masters.
You were ticked off when Rapala bought STORM.
You check river flow gauges every morning from your office cubicle…just because.
You have never once have spilled the beans on an internet message board…and never will.
You like to be on the oars.
You think of your best plugs as “friends.”
You consider every steelhead a gift.
You’re happy to drive 18 hours to sit in the rain, get skunked and catch pneumonia.
Your drift boat has more scratches than paint.
You have a carton of sandshrimp in the fridge right now.
You’d rather walk barefoot through a kiddie pool filled with Gamakatsu trebles than bonk a wild steelhead.
You’ve volunteered to help clean up a local creek.
You know snow and felt don’t mix.
You wish you had Nick Amato’s job.
You know what HSR and STR mean.
You don’t care how long the hike is.
You can function all day on a Cliff Bar and a Red Bull.
Orange Roe says
Just stumbled across this site tonight. I am a man out of my own time. My Lamiglas Chinook Special is very scarred, her cork now a deep dark brown and glossy from sweat and blood, and just as beautiful as the day I bought her, long before most of you were born. She is the only rod I use and is still wedded to her red ABU 5000, but cheats occasionally with her love on the side…her 3500C. They have only known 6, 8 and 15lb Max Chameleon their entire lives. Their owner still wears LaCross hip waders and dons a 1977 Garcia vest which has never been washed. He does not own any jigs nor bobbers. He is exclusively a drift fisherman, a reader of water, who knows the fragile differences between fine gravel and a soft take. He still angles whenever possible, despising and shunning the bobber crowd, and in fact did so today in 30 degree weather with one release of a gorgeous winter hen. He prefers MC STR8/6lb leader and a barbless bronze #1 90% of the time. Having to blow on the tip every third cast to clear the ice is Heaven on Earth. He has been a society member since age 10, when that first winter buck, which rose from a deep pocket and slammed the clumsily looped roe on a pre-tied mono leader for the first time, started him on the lifelong path. He ( I ) will never change.
JD says
AWESOME!!
Richard from England says
Add: You and your buddy fly 7500 miles, hire a car, drive for 11hrs from SF airport and get up at 5am every day for a week, trying to stand up on boulders like glass in the Klamath, so tired you could weep, all because on 6lb adult on the fly makes it worthwhile. Can we be honorary members of the ‘ Society ‘ ?
JD says
Richard, you & Guy are definitely in! You are animals!!!
Yentor says
Fly fishing doesn’t count…
dan lizardo says
hiouch!! thanks guys for the wonderful stories and memories you have created and experienced and shared with us society members.i thank the fish gods every time i get a chance to challenge and try to out witt these magnificent creatures .i hope my health at this time still allows me to give fair chase because i am as excited about steelhead fishing as i was some 47 years ago. and the best part is my wife vickie always asks me arent you fishing this week?? dan
CalCarmo Piccolo says
My first how can I ever forget…. It was Valentines Day, and sorry honey but I have to catch one just one to say that I did it. I was 18 years old and didn’t really have a clue what I was up against after catching trout with my dad all my life. I walked down to a hole I always wanted to fish but always had other anglers there before I got there and it was still dark. This man from Salinas, Ca. was there and kind of chuckled and laughed when he saw me. He was decked out in incredible gear with a beautiful rod and what looked like to me all the top of the line things a fisherman can own. I was wearing my dad’s old cannery boots, jeans, a dirty sweatshirt and a side bag that was loaded with brook trout skeins I cured as roe stuffed in a mason jar. And I was equipped with a 5’6″ glass rod that my grandpa gave me. I asked the guy how the fishing was and he didn’t even answer me until he was done with his cast and drift. He replied ” I been here for an hour and won’t be done for an hour” I didn’t get the hint so I sat on a downed redwood tree and thought I would wait till he was done. He would look back at me every 4-5 casts to see if I was there and he’d follow that with a dirty look. I was amazed by him as I studied his every move. At this point he hangs it up and says ” go ahead and give it a shot kid it doesn’t look like your going to leave until I’m done”. So I walk up to the hole excited and open my mason jar of brook trout roe and have at it while he watches me at this point. First cast I watch the roe sink into the hole and I feel a bite I have never felt in my life and the steelhead drops it but I knew he was in there. I keep my mouth shut and look back at the expert as he still has a sarcastic look on his face. I cast again and this time with some confidence that I know what is about to happen will finally happen. I feel the same weird bite let him take it and set the hook like I never have before….. IT’S ON!!!! This beast starts to zig-zap and jump all over the hole up, down, circles you name it. Now Mr. Salinas expert looking fisherman is my new best friend and right next to me trying to coach my every move, I ignored him and did my best. Now the fish hugs the bottom and doesn’t move, the fight continued. We both are excited to see this steelhead I turn and fight him to the bank as I take in water in my cannery boots as if the steelhead was pulling me in. I beached him on a sandbar and delicately pick him up for a picture. Mr. Salinas takes my photo twice, I kissed the big buck on top of his head that weighted in at about 12-13 pounds, had a huge head and cool looking hump on his back and looked like the bumper of a 57 chevy…. So chrome and I mean chrome. I held his big tale and let go and watched him slowly swim back into the deep hole and disappeared. The man look at me and said good job kid now your ruined for the rest of your life and mark my words your life is over, you’ll be chasing these fish every year and every winter. I looked at him and said ” thank you for your help sir and thanks for taking my picture” I walked up the hill and back to my truck. I only fished for about well two cast’s and did what I wanted to do was catch my first steelhead. I went straight home. I noticed that I cut the hook and leader off my rod and put the whole rig in my wallet so I could have it forever to remember that one fish and it dawned on me what the man said that my life was ruined and I’ll be chasing these fish all the time now….. He was right. I still have the hook hanging in my rod building workshop and take a look at it all crusted up and dried out brook trout skein chunks on it and remeber that fish!!! And now till this day I fish the same creek and the same hole every weekend during the winter except now I can afford the good gear and tackle and back it up with experience to be successful………. I have dreams of the gorge, sycamore grove and the Garden of eden. I found a corky under my bed a couple months after the season closed and great depression followed that the thought of all the time I have to wait to go back and fish.
Don Brier says
How about:
1) You have memorized at least 200 miles of various rivers yet you can’t remember the last name of the neighbor you have lived next door to for the last 10 years.
2) You don’t understand why you can’t get the weather for Troy, OR {on the Grande Ronde} on weather.com.
Bill Ferrero says
Why wasn’t I surprised to see you on this message chain? Hope all is well.
cliff Rains says
Never a truer word spoken.
You will never forget your first one!!!
It was in late December 1949, frost on the rocks by the river, hip boots way to big, walking out of them in any mud what-so-ever, hands like ice, told my dad i couldn’t feel the fishing rod in my hands. His reply was wait until you first hook-up then tell me how cold it is. It was like my fourth drift down through the rapids at the head of the hole and my line stopped and started back up the stream, at first i thought i was snagged but my dad yelling, set the hook you jerk (something like that) and all hell broke loose. Being 11 yrs old and fishing in the San Lorenzo river (Lime House Hole) using my 3 piece telescoping steel 8′ rod with a Hardy reel ( still have them) and black and green nylon line, nite crawler and a lot of screaming, yelling and a ton of luck. A nice chrome 7.5 lb buck and to my dad’s surprise, i landed it.
JD keep up the nice work.
cliff
Joe says
I have USGS real time water data on my favorites, and I watch the weather channell !!!
After my first drift down the Smith, I was hooked for life.
JR says
Your gaze lingers on a recently landed steelhead, like a 15 yr old boy with nudie mag…forgeting that you can’t feel your beet red fingers as you watch it slide back into the unseen…and vanish…
Ryan Sabalow says
Dude, I love this post. Seriously. I blogged about it.
http://blogs.redding.com/rsabalow/archives/2010/10/too-good-not-to.html
Derrick Downey says
Amen Brother !!