It starts with huge rains and high water, the darkest days of the year. Long nights surrounded by a small fortune in Lady Amherst feathers, staring into the mouth of madness, trying to perfect Intruder-style steelhead patterns. Or filling giant Bugger Beasts with row after row of steelhead jigs. You scout eight rivers in two days, alternating between litter-lined, mud-choked combat fishing for hatchery fillets to chasing wild winter fish on unnameable, healthy streams near the Pacific. You can’t always get what you want in the winter. But sometimes you get what you need.
The water is still dropping. Get out there.