I was nine years old and my time had come. After a few fishless trys earlier that winter my dad and I went up the upper Bogie. It was mid Feb in the early 80s. I can remember the ice crystals on the rocks and on the guides on my rod. My dad still had to rig me up every time I broke off, which was pretty frequent. I still dont know how he ever got to fish while he was rigging me up all the time.

Well, we walked up the trail, wich seemed to take forever. I must have asked him how much farther about every five minutes. It seemed like we walked twenty miles before we cut over to the river, we only went about 1 mile.

We were drifting eggs and the river was in prime shape. We fished about two holes before my dad hooked and landed 20+ double stripe buck. Now I was really excited, We went to the next hole and I threw out my eggs. I felt my lead tapping the bottom, then it stoped then the rod nearly got jerked out of my hand and the fish was gone. I was so excited I didnt set the hook. I put some more eggs on and casted agian. It didnt even hit bottom before the fish had hooked itself and started taking line. After a fight that seemed to take forever I landed an eight pound chrome wild buck. After that day I have been hooked on steelhead. Dont get me wrong, Ive been holding a fishing rod since I was old enough and loved catching bass, trout but steelhead is my love.