When I step foot into the water I am filled with an overwhelming sense of calm, peace, and happiness. As I begin to lengthen out my fly line I start taking in my surroundings. I hear the sounds of moving water in the river. The birds beginning to chirp as the sun starts peaking over the canyon walls. Then the big horn sheep start to become more visible as they stand on seemingly unstable terrain. All of a sudden my line comes tight there is a moment of hesitation as not to lift the rod too quickly and pull the fly from the fish's mouth. The Hardy Reel begins singing me that sweet song. It is here where I feel that I am hearing the voice of a steelhead. After a couple of seconds of hearing and seeing all that I am surrounded by, and being caught in the moment hearing the fish “talk” to me I hear what sounds like, “Better luck next time”! The fish had come off. What a thrill, what a rush! All of these compounding elements all compiling into that one moment, for those few seconds. I am in awe of this journey, the destination, the comradery of how far we have come, how far the steelhead have come. All for that one moment, those few seconds of time for that brief interaction.
Whether it be on the Deschutes, John Day, North Umpqua, or many other rivers in this great state I am in nearly a constant state of contentment and serenity. From the lush green of the North Umpqua to the brown sage and tall grasses of the John Day this is a truly breathtaking place to reside. It is humbling to have the opportunity just step foot, let alone swing a fly through these waters with the ones I love and ones whose friendships are real and sincere. They are a true testament to the countless hours spent driving, floating, and hiking in the pursuit of these brief encounters, whether or not we get to shake hands with a steelhead.