Mine was caught in the ninth grade and would prove to be memorable for all the wrong reasons. It was caught with a flame corky and chartreuse yarn on Alaska's Ninilchik River over a Memorial Day weekend opener for spring kings. I was so excited to finally land one of these prized gamefish. My first instinct was"Quick, let's get it back in the water." because I was under the mistaken impression that only kings could be retained.

A buddy said "Why? It's legal to keep." After confirming with others on the bank that it really was legal, I grabbed a rock and whacked it solidly across the top of its head. It was a remarkably bright hen measuring 38", but skinny as a snake."So what," I thought to myself, "it looks like a fresh one afterall."

When I cut it open, its meat was nearly white and paper thin along the ribs and belly. After one taste, I threw the rest of the fish away because it wasn't fit to eat.

Lessons learned as I look back:

1) Never kill a down-runner, no matter how bright it looks, even if it's legal to kill it.

2) What a waste of a marvellous wild hen steelhead that had just completed her life's mission and then just mending up for another run out to sea where she could have fattened up for a repeat spawn the next year.

3) That fish in its prime would have weighed 20 pounds or more! Definitely an exceptional fish for that little creek... and I just wasted its chances to pass on those genes on a repeat run.

Definitely one of my darkest and unforgettable moments of enlightenment in my evolution as an angler.