Swing the Fly Issue 2.3 Winter 2014-15 | Page 123

“How cold is it?”

said the sport as he willingly pulled his waders on, ready to fish the day.  “You shall soon find out” said the guide reluctantly.  Already bundled up with three layers of Merino wool, boot foot waders and a colorful beanie to keep the rising heat from leaving the body, it still wasn’t enough.  The car thermometer translated to 1 degree.

It was 9am, a late start by steelhead standards but still not late enough. On a typically morning they would have been out there at 4:30am to secure the first run and wait for the sun to rise.

The night before she had shoveled the snow out of the boat and dumped hot water over the fiberglass. A foot of snow filled the boat and the anchor rope was frozen solid to the floor. The plan was a short float, if the boat thawed.