Im certain this subject has been used as a topic in the past and Ive prolly contributed to those posts but i dont recon i can remember now so to break up the monotony of all that sucks in life, lets tell our stories of our first steelhead. Long suffering accomplishments, incidentals, accidents and every blooper details are encouraged. Ill start...

I grew up in Carnation/ Duvall area and quite literally tripped over frozen bolders in mid winter tracing my dad footsteps along the banks of the Tolt, Snoqualmie and Skykomish Rivers in search of that mythical silver rocket of a fishy creature we call steelhead (just ask Stonefish). While pops didnt catch too many fish back in the day, he did plant that mystique and legendary lore into my teachable head that sounds down the rarity and importance of every meeting with a steelhead. Back then for me, this certainly wasn't just my father or his companion getting a tug, it was a huge deal for someone on the same river on the same day having an encounter in one shape or form. I was typically happy to be relegated to carry the net whether i was deemed worthy enough to use it or not. To make a long story short i wasnt aloud to make even one cast until i was older. Dad enjoyed his time on the river but wasnt really all that successful. I am appreciative of the seed he planted regardless. Fast forward to somewhere in the late 1980s (trying to remember the exact year) i used to ride my bmx bike to the Sammamish slew at Marymoor Park. My brother and i used to catch crawdads, sculpin, sometimes a trout or two and even a western red painted turtle at one point which we kept in a fish tank for 2 years. All out of the slew which is pretty overwhelmed by a freakin mall now. Anyway, one of my favorite things to do was stand under the Marymoore bridge and cast black, yellow and gold panther martins across and down the riffle below. I landed a ton of nice cutties and rainbow doing this but then one day something grabbed ahold that was all together on another level. I knew i was screwed when it nearly emptied my Cardinal C3 but i slowly worked it back thinking i had the world record rainbow when it dawned on me. Are you even kidding me, this was a real bonafide steelhead! I got to the shore and beat the snot out of it and hung it on my diamond back's handle grip for the ride home. When i finally got to the front door, pops looked around like; "Was there anyone following you Danny?" Huh? Evidently he was worried someone saw me take probably what was one of the last of the wild Bear Creek steelhead but how was i to know? It was my first steelhead and while only 6 or 7 pounds, it didn't matter, Ive been captivated ever since. RIP pops!