Fly rod in hand, armed with a Hardy Reel, I set forth upon my river (North Fork Stillaguamish) in hopes of hooking into a magnificent summer-run steelhead, using the hand-tied flies I made...ones that I've tied since I learned the art from my father George in 1964. The day is spent on the stream with the water ouzel as my only company, 'cept for my bird dog that has occasionally flushed a ruffed grouse therefrom the hardwoods. The casting is rewarded with a mint-chrome bright steelhead. Content, I wish the day not to end as dusk nears, but in the fading light, it's time to quit, knowing though in my heart and once again I've come "Home" to my favorite steelhead fishing waters.

KJM

all rights reserved