I have two memories that fight for my attention every night when I close my eyes.

In August I went to Astoria with my friend who is a fishing nut. His father once had him his see a therapist because he spent all of his time fishing. Anyway, we landed twenty salmon with a mixed bag but a lot of chinooks. I landed a 48 pounder. That fish would not give up. First it ripped line so fast off of the reel that I got a blister on my thumb. Then when we caught up to it I could not get it out from under the boat. My arms were so tired that I thought that I had been moving hay all day. Not bad for a guy who had caught one steelhead previously.

The second happened a few days ago. My buddy from the valley came east and we fished the John Day River. I had never spent any time fly fishing but I was told that I would have to learn. By about 9:00 am I was able to cast (if that is what you call it). At 10:00 am I landed my first steelhead. In all I landed 10 steelhead with the largest being 8 pounds. The only way that I could feel them on that dang whippy rod is when the fly was down below me. I had a great time and I will always remember that day.

At the end of the day we sat on the bank of the river and my buddy said that I should remember this day as a special one. Heck, I can't even close my eyes with out seeing the end of my rod twitch. If you read this thanks for a great trip valley boy -