PNW

I have fished in single digit weather with howling winds, duck hunted in sub zero temperatures, even chased deer and elk in knee deep snow and wind chills below zero, but I have never been as cold as I was standing in a glacial river in the rainy Pacific Northwest in winter chasing elusive steelhead. The only saving grace is the stunning landscapes that surround you and the hope that you will feel the tug on one of your swings… which thankfully, I did. 

My good friend Blake Gallagher got me into steelhead fishing years ago. To be perfectly honest, it didn’t take much arm twisting. He would send me pictures and videos, talk about the feeling of letting loose a good spey cast and of course he would say that every photographer needs to see the Olympic Peninsula. He was correct on all of the things. It is an absolutely magical place. The color of the glacial rivers is exceptional. Hues of blue, gray and turquoise wildly running to the nearby ocean. The ferns and greenery that are so lush, you wonder what all is out there. And then you remember, and you think about your target. 

Steelhead are fascinating fish. Born into these river systems where they will follow the current back out to the ocean to spend a few years growing and circling the northern Pacific Ocean before nature tells them to return, upstream, to the same river they were born in and to start the next generation of fish. Nature is truly fascinating…

The more you think about it, the more you realize that yes, fishing requires a lot of skill, but it also revolves around luck a lot of the time. And when you happen to latch onto a steelhead migrating back upstream, you realize just how lucky you are. 

As a photographer I have never returned from a trip with more images to look through than a trip steelheading. The scenery, the fish, and of course the people you are with, all make taking good photos easy. That's if you can set the rod down and click the shutter instead.

In a later blog post I will dive into the issues surrounding steelhead.