2:00 am. , I open my eyes, look at the alarm clock and think, "what the hell, if I don't do it now, I'll never get a chance this weekend". So I clumsily stumble to the coffee pot, pitch the old grounds, draw the water, and refill with new grounds, all on auto pilot. While the pot is brewing, I'm flying around the house digging out clothes, waders, boots, headlamp and the other items that make a small mountain gear in the living room. I slap peanut butter and some honey on a couple of slabs of bread and call it lunch (more like breakfast, at least for normal people at the time I'll be eating it). The coffee is just about done perking, and I pour a full, steaming cup and hit the road. My destination is 1 1/2 hours away. A river in Washington that I like to fish for summer steelhead. I've got a drift rod and a spey rod in the car, and thankfully because of Washington's regulations I can fish in the dark for steelhead at this particular spot. I'll start off with the drift rod, and switch over to flies when I can see what I'm doing. (I'm not a big fan of guessing where my anchor is while trying to pull off a double spey in the dark!) The miles quickly fade away as I listen to a radio show recount a fireman's first hand experience in the World Trade center on 9/11. I'm pretty wrapped up emotionally with this guy's story when I arrive at my destination. So I decide to wait till the show is over until I pull on my waders. (which I'm glad I did, because I really should think more often about those who have lost their lives over the course of the years because of this single event)
A head lamp tracks the movement of a fellow angler. There's about 6 other guys as crazy as me this morning, but nobody's had any luck so far. My rod is already rigged and I briefly "charge" the glow in the dark corkie with my head lamp. About a dozen casts later and the rythmic "tap, tap, tap" of the pencil lead sinker is replaced by a sharp TUG, then another. I set the hook hard and can hear a fish jump in front of me. I let the fish run and jump in the dark as I shuffle down river away from the other anglers. At this point I really don't know how big the fish is. I assume it's a summer run (but it could be an early silver salmon) and after a few good runs, I click on my headlamp and confirm it is. Five minutes later, the 6lb. hatchery hen steelhead is on the beach, and I've got her tagged. The time... 5:00 a.m. I fish as the beautiful full moon sets, and the first glimpse of daylight breaks. No other fish come to hand, and it is soon time to switch over to the spey rod. I change out rods, and get into the regular cast, swing, step routine, but no takers. By 7:30 the sun starts to shine directly on the water and it's time to go. I"ve got to be at the Equipment rental shop by 10:00 am to pick up a pressure washer.
I usually wouldn't be in this much of a hurry. But a deal is a deal. My wife asked me to paint our house this year, and I foolishly agreed. Being a natural born procrastinator, I obviously put it off. This weekend may be one of the nicest weekends left of the summer, and I really needed to attack the project. But, I needed to fish too........ So I had no other alternative than to get an early start. My reward for todays hard work, will be crusted in lemon pepper and cooked on the barbeque. There is no better way to end a long summers day than natures bounty wrapped in aluminum foil!
A head lamp tracks the movement of a fellow angler. There's about 6 other guys as crazy as me this morning, but nobody's had any luck so far. My rod is already rigged and I briefly "charge" the glow in the dark corkie with my head lamp. About a dozen casts later and the rythmic "tap, tap, tap" of the pencil lead sinker is replaced by a sharp TUG, then another. I set the hook hard and can hear a fish jump in front of me. I let the fish run and jump in the dark as I shuffle down river away from the other anglers. At this point I really don't know how big the fish is. I assume it's a summer run (but it could be an early silver salmon) and after a few good runs, I click on my headlamp and confirm it is. Five minutes later, the 6lb. hatchery hen steelhead is on the beach, and I've got her tagged. The time... 5:00 a.m. I fish as the beautiful full moon sets, and the first glimpse of daylight breaks. No other fish come to hand, and it is soon time to switch over to the spey rod. I change out rods, and get into the regular cast, swing, step routine, but no takers. By 7:30 the sun starts to shine directly on the water and it's time to go. I"ve got to be at the Equipment rental shop by 10:00 am to pick up a pressure washer.
I usually wouldn't be in this much of a hurry. But a deal is a deal. My wife asked me to paint our house this year, and I foolishly agreed. Being a natural born procrastinator, I obviously put it off. This weekend may be one of the nicest weekends left of the summer, and I really needed to attack the project. But, I needed to fish too........ So I had no other alternative than to get an early start. My reward for todays hard work, will be crusted in lemon pepper and cooked on the barbeque. There is no better way to end a long summers day than natures bounty wrapped in aluminum foil!
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