Hey, Steelhead, let me catch you.

Two weekends ago, I went steelheading over in Idaho with Matt Breuer and LG. For the past two weeks, I have been trying to muster up some grand post about how going fish-less (whitefish don't count, this isn't baseball) over the course of two, windy, cold, and rainy days was the cat's meow. It wasn't. It was like self-flagellation in the church of the Clearwater. Eventually, it started to feel kind of good. So, instead of more words, I will sum it up in FISH JERKS style.

What I thought my first steelheading trip would look like - that's how it works. First trip, big wild buck. Amirite?

What my trip actually looked like. Empty handed. For reference, BWO.

I'd do it again.