In the winter temperatures can drop down into the teens. The icy river cascades its way held intact by lava banks, frozen drifts, and gravel bars. The first step thaws frozen boots warming them to the temperature of the water. Cold and green it seems lifeless from first glance while snow flurries fall from above but below the surface, the strong and vibrant inhabitants thrive.

The sound of ice popping off the rod guides echo off the canyon wall. The line stretches across the surface presenting a weighted intruder down into the drift. The fly tumbles through stony crags and greasy hydraulics. The fisherman shivers but the steelhead feel right at home. On the inside of the swing, a soft slow piece of water holds a willing participant. The line goes tight, the rod tip bucks up and down under the weight and the reel communicates clearly it’s under distress. A slight lift to the bank secures the fight and the battle begins.

This trip was with my two best friends David and Seth Burke. We spent the week of thanksgiving fishing our favorite south central Washington stream. Although the temperatures were miserable and snow fell all around us we felt at home. It was a perfect day for three brothers to enjoy the pastime that has created some of the greatest moments and memories we share.

Always Believe!