Winter 1987 on the Queets when I was 11. We were pulling plugs and my dad's buddy hooked three, but lost every single one. Nothing for me until we were getting near the take out and my rod buried. The fish was jumping all over the place and I'm not sure who was more scared, me or that fish, as I was shaking like a leaf. Right at 13 pounds and the only fish landed that day. Got him on a metallic blue and silver wiggle wart with red bill. I still remember my dad trying to "fillet" that fish. Man did he butcher that thing. There was enough meat on the skeleton that we just barbequed that too. I remember getting my hands on every single steelhead fishing book possible after that. Been downhill ever since.