I fished with Mike and Sally Trotter. We never did land any big number of fish, but had a good time. One fish offered a special challenge, and lots of adventure. The Sandy River is broken up into four beats. On the fourth out of seven days, the three of us were fishing the forth beat. Sally had just hooked and landed a beautiful 10 lb wild hen. She was back at the boat having a cup of coffee when Mike hooked an amazing nickel bright steelhead, that we had to chase a long way. He hooked him in a smaller side channel off the main river. The fish made a few jumps and then left the pool and just kept going. In less than a minute, it was over 200 yards into the backing, I could see it jumping in the distance, the fish kept going. As we watched the backing peel off of the reel, we knew it was time to take action. We would have to chase it. We figured this channel to be comparatively shallow, so crossing the tail out would be relatively easy. I had been standing behind Mike hoping to get a picture of the Steelhead jumping. I tucked my Cannon 20D digital SLR camera down the front of my wades, zipped up my Simms G3 jacket and headed for the tailout. Now I realized, it was deeper than I had thought. Mike was a bit shorter than I, so when the water became dangerously close to the top of my waders, I got worried about him. I was against the bank holding onto an Alder tree when he got to the deep part and was starting to float away . I saw a look of panic in his eyes, I reached out my hand, and he jumped for it. I'm sure we where both thinking the same thing. If we don't connect he'd be swimming. He put out his hand I made a grab for it and pulled him to shore. A little water had come over the top of the waders, but at this point it didn't matter. The only thing we could think of was catching up to the fish. We looked down river and saw that the bank was lined with alders. Normally in a spot like this there would be a bear trail along the bank. Almost every bank on the river has a trail, everyone thinks they are worn from the guides and clients walking down them, but in reality it is the bears. They constantly patrol looking for feeding opportunities. The river was extremely deep so we couldn't get away from the bank, and wade. This was going to be a real chore. We started to work our way down the river, we had to pass the rod back and forth to each other, I would hang on the front of the tree like a monkey and Mike would run around to the back, to a hand off point. Finally the fish stopped moving. However it had not stopped in normal holding water and was stuck on a snag! I knew there was a snag on the other side of the river. Every time I would drive the jet sled down I would take note of it. Mike figured it out at the same time. I told him I was going back for the boat and Sally. At this point the boat was nearly a half a mile away! I told Mike it was our only chance to get the fish and his line back. I was afraid the fish would break his backing where it was stuck on the snag. I was running through the alders with reckless abandon and kept getting worried I would jump a bear. They roam around in these alders and call it home; I'm just a visitor here. I went further up river to cross back over where it would be shallowest. I didn't want to swim with my two thousand dollar camera. Mike kept moving down river and into a spot that was a little easier for me to pick him up. He had positioned himself in a corner with a little Beaver channel running through it. I made a u-turn with the shallow-draft jet boat, and pulled in. Mike hopped aboard and we were off, or so we thought. Upon pulling out into the current, a stick got stuck in the jet foot. The boat completely lost power!!!!!!!!!!!! We were barely able to hold in the current. Soon we were below the snag and on the wrong side to untangle it. I killed the motor and headed for the back of the boat. When I got there I could easily see the problem. We had a 4 foot long stick in the jet foot. I removed the stick and we were back in action. By this time we had been playing the fish for 20 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. I thought the fish would be gone by now. Mike kept telling me he could feel it surge every once in a while. I was skeptical.As we headed back up river Mike was able to get most of his backing on the reel. We could see the end of the fly line. We got above the snag and Mike got unhooked from it. To my astonishment the fish was still attached. As soon as it was free the fish made a blistering run down stream again!!! Was this fish on steroids? What was going on? It ran right into another snag! This river is covered with small alder trees that get washed into the river everyday. The river has a very uniform gradient with lots of sweeping turns, almost every corner has a snag or two on it. I moved down to the snag. It was in the middle of a corner, so it was not the easiest place to maneuver. As I pulled into the inside of the corner, I was not exactly sure which side the fish was on. When we got it sorted out that he was on the other side I gave the boat a little power and sucked a rock into the jet foot and lost power again. How could this be happening? At this point we were above the root wad and moving down the outside. I killed the engine. We got the line off the snag and still the fish was attached. We just floated through the corner and were headed for the bank. I swung a leg over the back of the boat so I could get at the jet foot. I knew this would be a lot harder than getting a stick out. We were floating down the river out of control. There was nothing I could do about it. We smashed into the bank. I looked up to make sure everyone was still in the boat. I felt around in the jet foot for the rock and got it out. Mike was still fighting the fish. Power was restored and I thought we were in good shape. The fish wrapper around a third snag. It looked like it was heading down a side channel...not again? At this point Mike decided to break off the fish. He clamped down on the rod and line and the whole thing flew from his hand. I had never seen anything like this before. Everyone looked at each other in disbelief. Now we had nothing. I quickly beached the boat, tossed out the anchor, and ran up to the snag. We couldn't see the line or the rod. It had sunk to the bottom of the river. I assumed at this point the fish was gone for sure and maybe the rod as well. I got up to the root-wad. I started feeling around and found the line. The water was swift here and the footing was unstable. I reached for the line, and fell in. I still had the camera stuck down the front of my waders. All thoughts of the fish and the rod left my mind. All I could think about was the camera and getting it out of the water. I was on the verge of panicking. Not because I thought I was going to drowned or something like that, but because I didn't want to ruin my camera. I gained my footing and stood up. Cautiously I turned and looked at the bank a few feet away. I needed to get there and free my camera. I headed for it. When I was on dry ground I finally pulled the camera out from under my jacket and waders it was still totally dry, thanks to my great wading gear made by the Simms company. I handed the camera off to Sally, and went back to free the fly line. I got a hold of it, and to my amazement we still had the fish on. I hand lined it in. What did I have to lose at this point, everything was going our way, more or less. Mike was right behind me when I tailed the fish. What a beautiful fish! We cradled her in the river for a few seconds. She did not seem phased by any of the previous events. I pulled out my pocket-size digital camera, Mike held her up for one picture. As soon as we put her back in the water she was off. What an amazing fish! I grabbed the fly line and chased down the rod. We got it back in good condition. When I got back to the boat, I noticed I had ripped off the pocket of my G3 jacket, but it had still kept the water out. A round of hi fives ensued and some slaps on the back. What an adventure we had! We had landed the steelhead on 15 pound maxima. Who could have believed it was so strong?
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