My First Steelhead

This week’s blog was written by Ben, a Bass alum. Ben is looking to pursue a career in physical therapy and enjoys a variety of outdoor activities. He became a Conservation Ambassador to help ensure that future generations can experience and appreciate nature just as he does.

Once we finally got past most of the people fishing, we found a nice spot that was overlooked by the other anglers. This area had a rock ledge on the other side with a small waterfall coming from a spring trickling over the edge. The water on the other side of the stream was much deeper than the water on our side of the stream, and the rock ledge acted as a break in the current. Seeing this, we expected fish to be sitting here.

To our surprise, when we walked up to the edge of the stream, we saw at least twenty fish stacked up in this lull in the current. We thought that we had hit the jackpot, but the fish had other plans for us.

We used just about every pattern, color, and presentation we had at them, and they did not seem to care at all. My pap was convinced that if we stayed there long enough, we could force them into biting. However, I wanted to walk downstream a little and fish some of the faster-moving water which I thought would be holding fish.

So, I was walking in the water, which was moving quickly. I stared into my open fly-box so I could figure out what I wanted to try and throw at these fish. This is where things started to go wrong. I stepped onto the wrong rock, and I slipped, and I watched as my fly box shot straight up into the air and back down into the water.

Thankfully, my waders kept me dry except for the arm that I used to catch myself. I got up and looked as ridiculous as you can imagine as I chased my little box down the stream. Thankfully, it did not go too far, and I was able to catch up to it. Unfortunately, though, almost all of my flies had fallen out and had disappeared in the water. The only flies that I had left were a few nymphs and some streamers that I had tied for the trip.

I walked back to meet up with my pap and we decided to keep fishing because I was not too wet. We walked about another mile upstream and decided to fish beside a guy who looked like he knew what he was doing. He had a lot of expensive gear and a huge box of all different kinds of flies. He was fly fishing too, so we had to spread down the stream a little to space ourselves out. This spot was a little different than the last one. On the other side of the stream was a stone overhang that this guy said he thought that fish were sitting under. This stretch of water went on for a while, so there was a lot of space to fish.

Carelessly, I tied a new leader to my fly line. I did not realize this at the time, but this leader was only six-pound test, far too light for a steelhead. I tied on one of my homemade steelhead streamers and started casting it upstream and letting it drift downstream. I could not see my fly, so I was watching my line, waiting for it to get tight. I threw it upstream, and the line did not get tight. I threw it up again, but still nothing.

After fishing with the streamer for about half an hour, it finally happened. The line went tight. I set the hook, and I saw the fish’s head lift towards the surface of the water. I was so excited because I had finally hooked on a fish. Unfortunately for me, the excitement was short-lived, and the fish took off down the stream. Before I could blink, it was twenty yards in the opposite direction of where I wanted it to go.

At this point, I had completely forgotten about the undersized line that I was using to try to catch this fish. The fish tried swimming back upstream which made my line slack, and I could not catch up to the fish in time and the line snapped.

To sum up my feelings in one word, I felt defeated. I stood there in disbelief because I thought that my line was twenty-pound test, and I was flabbergasted at the fact that a steelhead broke me off.

The guy that was near us saw what had happened and was nice enough to come up and talk to me. I asked him, “Could you please give me some advice that will help me catch these fish?” He asked me what I was using, and I showed him my nearly empty box of flies. He told me something that I still use anytime that I am fly fishing. He taught me how to use water conditions to determine what flies I should use. He told me that water clarity is an important factor in determining the flies that you use because the fish will be able to see the details better in clearer water. Turns out, I was not using the best type of flies for the way that the water was.

After my lesson from a stranger, I tied on my new leader, which was the correct size this time, and a size twelve pheasant tail nymph. Now that I knew that we were in a spot with fish, I took my last pheasant tail and tossed it back into the same spot as where the last fish was sitting.

Instantly, my line went tight. I felt another rush of excitement as this fish, just like the last one, took off downstream with the current. This time, I went downstream with it so I could keep tension on the line. I kept the pressure on, but not too much so it did not break. I eventually tired the fish out, and it ever so slowly got closer and closer to the bank of the stream. Once it got to my feet, I was able to pick it up and hold this beautiful fish. I let out a huge sigh of relief because I had finally caught my first steelhead! 

The fish was completely grey with a light pink stripe going straight down the middle of it from the head to the tail. It was also covered in black spots, making it look like an oversized rainbow trout. After all the different spots, the walking, the mishaps, and the lost fish, landing this fish was one of the most relieving feelings in the world.