Winterrun- Sammamish, '74. We moved to WA state in Oct. '73 and for a while my folks humored me by taking me to rivers like the Sky. They quickly got bored, and when I (or anyone else) didn't catch anything, they started suggesting that steelhead were mythical beasts, like bigfoot. I was 11, and a fishing fool, and I didn't care. I found a stash of the old STS magazines at the local library, (back when they were B&W) andI devoured them. Eventually, my folks would just drop me off to hang out under the Kenmore Bridge (makes me a troll?). I'd use a spin'n'glow or corkie and crawler, plunking. The first one I hooked trashed me. The second one was only 5-6lbs., and I was able to handle it.

Summerrun- S. Fork Stilly, '80. GF and I drove up for the day, and she was happy to hang out while I casted. At one point she was chilling her feet downstream of me, when a buck slammed the blue metallic hotshot I was casting, and launched itself 4-5 feet out of the river. It was only 25 feet from her, and she fell on her butt!