Ed is da' man. Thanks to Andre, I was able to spend a misreable, cold, pounding cats and dogs day on the Sauk and Skagit under his keen eye on the river. My fancy-tex jacket had soaked thru and I was shivering with cold heavy moisture inside my sleeves and running down my sides. I wouldn't have had it any other way. With every sip of hot coffee keeping me in the hunt, I cast the intruder into the broad pools of the Skagit until I finally connected with native steel. The fish was like liquid mercury, ripping, scorching - not just pulling line from the reel. I had almost forgotten the cold fire that burns within a wild winter steelhead's heart, and suddenly it was doubling my 10wt 15 footer over and making it hard for me to speak. The pure elation of the moment shook the cold from my bones like a dog after a swim, and for a few minutes I was king of the world with a graphite whuppin' stick in the valley of bald eagles.
The chromer threw the hook. It was a classic day in the pacific northwest!