In my fishing career I have one memory of the hardest fighting fish I have been lucky enough to hook. I was steelhead fishing in August, on the Columbia River about 25 miles north of the Tri-Cities. I had bank fished this area many times before and knew the area pretty well. Early on a Saturday morning, my fishing bud and I decided to let our wives sleep in since they didn't quite have the fishing fever that we had acquired. We left the trailer and made our way down to the preferred hole on that stretch of river. To my surprise no one was there! "This never happens," I thought to myself. We both waded our way out a little ways and began casting. My lure of choice consisted of a green corkie with the added scent of hot pink-dyed shrimp.
I was running 10# test and 8# leader, my norm for most steelhead outings. My friend and I were enjoying routine conversation when on my fifth cast I felt a tap and reared back only to have my rod slam down and line start smoking off my reel. The Salmon (I'm assuming of course) took of like a sub and since the water I hooked him in was fairly shallow, he actually created a wake radiating from his body as he shot out from the bank. The old-familiar story of the having a nik in your line happened upon me that morning for the fish had not gone more than ten feet when SNAP!
I couldn't believe it. I was shaking and my friend's mouth was wide-open in shock. I haden't figured that the salmon might be in already, plus this fish was only twenty-five feet from shore. I'm sure it had moved in toward shore overnight. Anyway, after that I checked my line, knot, leader and drag to make sure that it didn't happen again. I hadn't casted more than five minutes when WHAM! It happend again this time I was a little more prepared. Same thing as before but he happened to make it past the ten foot mark this time. I didn't know what to do. My largest river fish ever was a 16# steelhead caught in the same stretch of river. The fish surfaced about fifty feet out and it was easily in the 40-50# class. I literally started to shake again and figured that my 10# test wouldn't last long. The fish headed downstream in the mighty Columbia and I had no choice but to follow. I was running down the bank with my reel screaming. Half a dozen fishermen were nice enough to pull in their lines to let me by as I fought this monster. The fish never stopped once to let my regain some of the line I had lost. My drag was not set super light. I felt like I was at the breaking point for my drag setting already. I followed the fish about 3/4 of a mile downstream. Hoping and praying that I might land this awesome fish, however, I also know that when a fish gets out that far, your chances are not good. As I passed the last fisherman, he commented on how I better stop the fish before he gets into that swifter water or I will definetely lose him. I won't tell you what I was going to say to that guy in regard to his comment. Something in the essence of "here you take the rod and try stopping him". Anyway, I came to a canal that was too deep to cross so I tightened my drag and hoped for some reason the fish might do a 180 and come right back at me, Of course you all know the rest TWANG, and that was that. I can't complain because I got to fight the fish for twenty-thirty minutes and it was a great fight. Before I got back to the trailer my wife had heard the news and met me at the river but she saw me from a ways off walking slowly with my head down. Oh well, that's fishing and we all love it. Sorry for such a long story. My only question to fellow anglers is this. Is there anything I could have done different to swing the outcome in my favor? Always good to know in case it ever happens again. Thanks for reading, BigDawg