Every fall, our family makes the trek to northern British Columbia to enjoy a quiet escape at our cabin by the river. This year was no exception, though our arrival was staggered—Charles headed up early to fish with friends, while the kiddo and I arrived just as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon. As we settled in, the northern lights danced overhead, setting the stage for what we hoped would be a memorable trip.
Reports of the best steelhead fishing in years had us buzzing with excitement, but the weather had other plans. Heavy rains had raised water levels and muddied the rivers. Despite the challenging conditions, we were determined to see if fresh fish had pushed into the system. Day one, however, was a swing and a miss—literally. Rising water and debris made fishing tough, but optimism carried us forward.
In true northern fashion, when fishing slows, other adventures take over. We hunted grouse, picked mushrooms, and explored a hidden lake we’d been eyeing for years. There’s something magical about discovering new waters, even if the fish are small and the hook sets few.
The days were a blend of family time and fishing persistence. Adelaide, our daughter, was a constant source of joy—whether she was helping set up a fire pit or making fishing buddies wherever we went. One moment that stuck with me was watching her curiously observe a doe and her fawns near the cabin, a simple reminder of how wild and wonderful life is here.
Finally, patience paid off. As the rivers cleared briefly, Charles landed a stunning steelhead close to shore—a long-awaited victory. For a fleeting moment, all the rain, rising water, and near misses melted away.
While the fishing wasn’t consistent, the trip delivered something better: time together as a family, incredible scenery, and Thanksgiving with some of the best people we know. Northern B.C. never fails to remind us of the beauty in both the pursuit and the pauses along the way.
Until next year, steelhead waters.
