When I was thirteen years old, we moved here from Iowa. It was January, 1956. The fishing knowledge and equipment we brought with us was suitable for fishing my grandfather's farm pond (carp, bluegills, bullheads) and a slow moving river that bordered our farm (shiners, small catfish). While my parents looked for housing in Seattle, we stayed with an avid fishing family. I heard all about the prized WA fish called the steelhead and couldn't wait to go fishing for one. Unfortunately, there was nothing in our fishing tackle that was suitable for these big trout. I spent the rest of 1956 reading newspaper fishing reports and putting together the equipment I would need to go steelhead fishing.

Winter steelheading opened the first weekend in December. On opening day, my friend's father dropped his son and me off at the Renton Junction bridge on the Green River. We planned to fish until early afternoon, when my father would pick us up. We hiked up from the Renton Junction bridge and found a spot to fish across from a sandstone point that jutted out into the river.

We drift fished without success until noon. My fishing friend decided to take a break for lunch. I told him I would continue fishing in case any fish were swimming by while he had his line out of the water. He had no more than sat down and unwrapped his sandwich, when a large steelhead exploded from the water directly in front of him. It was on my line! The fight lasted about 30 minutes; when I tell you what gear I was using, you'll understand. Everyone fishing on the opposite bank pulled their lines out of the water, and kept them out while this kid was battling his first steelhead. One fisherman did grow impatient; he cast his line directly over mine while the fish was running downstream. All the fishermen on his side started yelling at him. Somehow, he got his line in, without snagging mine. Finally, we got the steelhead on the bank. It was a chrome snowbelly hen weighing ten pounds. As I recall, she was 30 inches in length and gave us a two pound coffee can full of eggs. My dad arrived shortly after the fish was landed. He could not believe we had caught a steelhead. It was the biggest fish anyone in our family had ever caught.

The tackle I was using that day was: a borrowed bamboo salmon trolling rod with a tip diameter barely smaller than my little finger,
my dad's old school levelwind Shakespeare reel with no drag, 10 lb mono, a brass bladed cherry bobber with a treble hook, and way too much 1/4 inch pencil lead. I had to use a lot of lead just to cast this setup across the river. The real miracle of that day was that I didn't lose all of my gear on the bottom of the river in the first hour of fishing...

The sequel: Two weeks later, the same friend and I were fishing the Green River near present day Fort Dent. At noon, he decided to take a lunchbreak. I was tired of casting my bamboo rod/levelwind reel setup by then, so I asked him if I could use his 8 1/2 ft. Shakespeare
Wonder rod/ Mitchell 300 outfit, while he ate. He agreed. Once again, I immediately hooked up. This time it was a mid teener chrome bright steelhead. We got several looks at the fish before it decided to make a big run down river and around a bend. I was forced to bring this fish back upriver against the current. The hook pulled out. Sequels are never as good as the originals!

That Christmas, my parents gave me a 300 Mitchell and a nine foot St. Croix rod of my own. No longer a wannabee, I was officially a steelhead fisherman.