Ever caught a fish and had that tremendous feeling of accomplishment? Ever had an unbelievable day of fishing, something you thought you would remember forever? Ever had all that flipped upside down by your fishing partner, who so out did your day it felt silly even before you could commit it to memory? The photo above is visual evidence of one of those days for me.... on the less memorable side!
Never one to immortalize a fish with taxidermy, my father caught and released more trophy fish in the course of a Salmon River season than most will in a lifetime. Once the requests for fish from home were covered, we almost always released the fish we caught. That is until one day in mid March in the early 2000's. Dad and I were fishing one of the smaller tributaries of Lake Ontario for Steelhead, and as usual had split up in search of fish. That particular stream was small, in spots you can step across it without getting your feet wet, but it was often filled with Winter Steelhead. That day was no exception. Dad had disappeared into a particularly dense cluster of woods while I fished a couple of pools in a more open area. Not surprisingly, there were fish everywhere on that particular day. I had hooked and lost 4 fish before hooking a large dime bright Steelhead and landing it after about a 10 minute fight around stumps, limbs and downed trees. Dad had said earlier in the day we needed to take a fish home for one of our neighbors, so I figured I had that covered, and went off in search of him to show him the fish I had caught. It was a marvel, 10-12 pounds of bright silver muscle, of which I couldn't have been more proud. That is until I found Dad...
When I found him, Dad was covered with mud from head to toe, sitting on the bank of the stream with his feet in the water enjoying a cigarette. When I asked him what had happened he just pointed to the opposite bank. There, much to my surprise and chagrin, was the biggest Steelhead I had ever seen. The fish had obviously been in the tributary system for some time because it was very colored up, brown on the back with deep red sides and red gills. I looked down at the fish I was holding so proudly, then across the stream at the fish lying there, and realized I had been beaten on that day. Nothing I was going to do could compete with that fish, and I couldn't have been happier. When weighed about 24 hours later, the fish was just a hair over 20 pounds. To this day, its still the biggest Steelhead I have seen caught, and it rests proudly on the wall in my garage with Dad's favorite fishing hat, a felt fedora. Dad had fought the fish, over and under trees, around a beaver dam, and thought the sloppy, muddy water of the beaver pond before landing the fish by hand in a narrow, fast moving portion of the stream. He had fallen twice, yet maintained tension on the line and brought the massive fish to the bank. An epic fight culminating in landing the fish of a lifetime.
To this day, I have never considered committing a fish to a wall mount. I'm still waiting for one to compete with the one now hanging in my garage...
Comments