Today's Lesson: Dedication

I managed to meet up with Dave yesterday afternoon, the good soul instrumental in facilitating that first Steelhead of the season. Upon arrival at our agreed upon meeting place, we found that the "honey hole" was "not accessible".

In our quest for the perfect drift elsewhere, we probably ended up in places where we shouldn't have and consequently risked life and limb; but as any true Steelheader will tell you, if the assumption of these risks will bring fish to the bank, it is well worth it. Today, Dave had displayed a level of dedication rarely seen in this noble sport, and it was most thoroughly enjoyed.

Dave was ahead of me as we worked our way downstream on some water new to both of us. The bank was strewn with fallen trees, brush, and was steep enough that if one lost his footing, he would be sliding on his rear end into the swift current en route to Georgian Bay. It wasn't long before I heard a thrashing downstream near the opposite bank and saw the bouncing of Dave's rod as a fish shook its head in disagreement. "Do you have one?", I queried. . . "Yup", he responded matter-of-factly, as the fish rocketed downstream.

The chase was on, but Dave had no where to go. Fledgling trees and organic debris stood in his path. Although this would have been an insurmountable obstacle for me, it was not for him, as he entered a rather deep section of mighty Nottawasaga river, eyes fixated on his prey. I, being 100 yards upstream had started to make my way towards him. Before entering a deep section of thick brush, I glanced down to find him up to his armpits in water with his rod held high, as he treaded his way downstream in water much taller than he. I quickened my pace and entered the deep brush. In a bit of a panic, I stumbled my way through, tripping over twigs and snagging my rod on overhanging branches. Finally, I reached the opening to see Dave excitedly making his way back up. From his neck down, he was saturated in ice cold water. "Did you land it", I queried. "Yeah" he answered matter-of-factly, as he wore a silly grin. . .

. . . "It was worth it".


















photo taken by Wallacio

He, carrying a number of extra pounds of water-logged waders, and I, thoroughly entertained, continued to fish for 2 more hours before racing back to the city.