‘Twas the month before Christmas and all through the house
Not a dry fly was rigged up, not even a mouse…
The rods were all strung by the chimney with care
In hopes that the steelheaders would soon all be there.
The fishers were nestled all snug in their layers
While visions of steelhead tempted the players.
With foolery and naysay I reached for the wakers
Whilst some anglers told me there would be no takers.
With frosted, cold fingers and shivering casts
I threw a long line with a large D-loop blast.
When out of the water there arose such a clatter
I froze in dead fear as the calm current shattered.
The line screamed in anger as the large hen took flight
And I reeled like a maniac as she fought with her might.
Her tail spread my fingers and I gripped her girth tight
Leaving teeth marks, frothing water and a girl in delight.
I smiled at the chaos, shaky arms a reminder
For I had just experienced my first subzero riser.
Merry Christmas and thank you cold weather steelhead for having some sympathy on a fool.
See you again soon.
April.
The next day a beauty wet fly fish reminds us all why we are so madly in love with these fish.
