The pain of steelheading comes in many forms.
They say that the pain comes from the bone chilling cold that you feel when your feet are like clubs and your fingers no longer work. Or, the one thousand casts it takes to bring one of these miraculous fish to the surface with the fly you have presented in it's mouth.
I found the pain to be something very different on this adventure to the tri-state region of the Northwest.
The pain on this trip came from the NEW.
The new dog I just rescued from the adoption center.
The new spey rod I ordered from TFO.
The new found passion I have for casting big flys on big river to anadromous fish that don't really give a shit about eating ANYTHING!
And then more pain.
The pain I felt from not catching a damn thing, other than a need to travel over 12 hours in a car crammed full of fishing shit, photography gear and dog toys to chase chrome in hopes that I may be lucky enough to one day have the fortune of finding the end of my rod bent over due to a fish rather than being hooked up on another f$%^ing rock.
Just one day, I may not feel the pain for a brief moment.
Until next time......
p.s. That's my buddy Bruce with the only fish of the trip. That's also painful.