This would be the first time in many years, I didn't fire up the truck and drive down to the bay area to be with family on Thanksgiving Day.
We decided to give it a bye for 08 and I stayed home. Yesterday, I thought about my grandmother and the rest of my family. I also considered my options for Turkey Day...
My order of Pen-Tac spoons arrived in the mail and so I had something very important to do as I thought...
By the time I turned in at 0145 this morning... I knew exactly what I needed to do and what any of my friends or relatives, dead or alive, would expect and want me to do after a steady rainfall in the late Autumn.
It was settled.
I got down to the river by 0830 and saw a fly fisherman so kept moving. I got to the intended run and found 2 guys up river, 4 guys across the river and 1 guy down river from where I wanted to fish.
The night before I'd outsmarted most of the 4 dozen or so night crawlers I grabbed at in the dark. A few of the worms were pretty witty, overly slimy or engaged in hermaphroditic sex and one of the he/she's slipped away. When all was said and done, I had lots of lively bait and enough mud under my fingernails to grow potatoes.
The fog had lifted and the clouds were still socked in over the somewhat swollen, stained river as I tossed out my 24 KT gold utensil with a #2 siwash hook where the handle should be.
I normally use a size 1/0 or 1 Gamakatsu but then again, I also normally use a 2/5 oz. spoon... This fall I've been rewarded nicely for tweaking things and sizing them down. I was contemplating the likely better balance of a smaller hook with the lighter 1/4 oz. spoon. Honestly, most steelhead inclined to hit a large, fluttering piece of brass could really careless about hook size but a spoon roller is always seeking that perfect balance and the #2 just made sense. What also made sense was that I only had 2's and 4's when I started the assembly line and I didn't feel like getting off my arse and driving 10 miles to the Sportsmart at 2100 hours but I digress...
Just before launching cast number 2, I see breezers moving along the slot and up into the riffle ...Maybe I should dump the hardware and rig up one of those suburban slimers...?
I dismiss the thought and chuck the spoon. On its descent, a very fast-flying, goldeneye manages to pick up my line and turn himself into a kite. Of all the birds that should be able to DUCK! I'm thinkin'... as my line tightens and my spoon travels skyward. About 3 seconds and 60 yards later, the line goes slack and the bird keeps flying. Thank God~
I made cast number three and 1/2 way through the drift, I was thinking that copper might be a better color, still a darker hue but a bit less luster than gold...
Damn steelheaders are always trying to navigate the astral universe with quantum physics before learning to just tie their shoes and walk... I think that's just the nature of the beast.
And then came the wicked grab that yanked my spoon, my line, my rod tip and all of those unnecessary thoughts, questions and doubts right out of my head...
My first thought was- 20# up-runner King. After the yank, came a couple of hard, fast runs and lots of head shakes. The fish only jumped twice and the second time she did, I knew there was no salmon at the end of my line.
I wasn't sure how well the fish was hooked nor how well my semi-battered 6# line would hold up so I spent the next 7 minutes adjusting my drag, and doing the gentle give and take that you can do with a 9.5' ultralight.
This wasn't a monster but it definitely was an Eel River fish not long out of the salt. She didn't make drag-screaming, air-born runs but she shook her weight around constantly and crocodile-rolled enough to make me sweat a bit. Her last act of defiance was to burst upriver, turn on a dime and then twist her shoulders around the slack line she created. I dipped the rod, righted the line, reeled fast and turned her out of the current-seam and over to the break.
I could see the spoon and swivel pointing towards the sky and the entire bend of the Siwash embedded in the roof of her mouth and I knew the outcome...
I tried to be nonchalant throughout all of this by keeping my enthusiasm silent and walking slowly backwards but as I beached the fish, the two upriver guys caught wind...
One guy yelled, "Is that a STEELHEAD?" He came over and asked if I wanted him to take a photo.
I stared him coldly in the eyes and screamed, "NO! I'm a loner now get the hell out of here!"
JUST KIDDING~
I gave him the camera and he kindly snapped a few photos.
We bs'ed a bit and I left him with a gold BC Steele 1/4 OZ. spoon, a few pointers, and I wished him a Happy Thanksgiving.
And once I pried my spoon away and got measurements (30 x 16) I did what any self-respecting steelheader would do with no roe in his freezer and a hatchery chrome hen in his hands... I sliced a few rakers and let her bleed.
My fishing partners in crime, Benny and the birthday girl (his 10 year old lab, Sadie) came down with their father Jim to wet a line. It's a tradition for the trio to get out and fish on Thanksgiving Day.
Benny hooked a nice steelie not long after showing up but of course as I was focusing the camera lens... it came unbuttoned. Oh well, I took a snapshot for the books anyway. I lost a second fish an hour or so later and we called it a day.
I left the river feeling really good, really grateful and I know my Grandmother was looking down and smiling on me.
My Thanksgiving Day 'Turkey' has fins instead of wings, orange instead of dark or light meat, and much smaller eggs but lots more of them...
Happy Thanksgiving
Mark
