This shot was taken at The Forks boat ramp. Pretty f' ' n cool.  Thank who ever you believe in that it started March 1st, cause there are not very many new fish around and the river is gonna need every one of them.

I searched the runs that usaully hold fish at these flows to no avail. The river seemed void of fish, even scouted some upriver runs that always hold a few, nothing. It is rare that I don't see anything in these runs. Fished anyway cause you don't always see them when they are chrome, nothing. Contemplated calling it a season on the river that is like a bad relationship you just can't seem to get out of. Full of highs and the lowest lows. But unlike a bad relationship this is steelheading and the highs definetly out way the lows. The days are getting longer and I thought this might be the last time I get over twelve hours of sleep, yes when I'm fishing with just Bo I'll hit the sack when it gets dark. Try it sometime, it's awesome.

The next morning started out the same, not seeing a thing in water that always has'em. Fished through one of the most productive peices of water that I know, nothing.

 Scratched my head and had a smoke break. No, not the kind you're thinking of. Just straight up tobacco, honest. Smoke finished, changed to a bigger fly and gave it another go.

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Got this hen on one of those casts you'd normally pull back, it just kinda piled out there. But as a good client of mine would say " mend that shit out and fish it.", I did. Cheers to you Moll. This hen ran to the tailout and threaten to leave, with a tail slap she dove into a tiny seam and held. Chased her down and after some up close and personal cartwheels and a fight that was like a stuck bee in beer can, I tailed her. With that I drove up river to a sweet tailout, grabbed a beer and smoke.

With beer and smoke complete, I tipped my brimmed beanie to this fish and called it a season on the coast.

Rich