Withdrawal

I've been back to work now for two days. Two days since being on the Salmon River. two days since feeling the fight, hearing the scream of the reel. Two days since feeding my need. Some may say I've been distant these last two days, while some may say I've been cranky. I personally would say none of them are correct. I'm an addict, an addict for big fish. I need to experience the fight , the thrill, the challenge and reward of fishing for chinook salmon. Not just fishing,but chasing the king on the fly. Tying our own creations, tasty morsels of thread feathers and yarn that these monster fish just can't resist lashing out at. The run is ramping up, more and more fish are going from staging in the lake right off the mouth of our tribs and running upstream to spawn and eventually meet their maker. More and more fish to chase means less and less days of the annual run. The run will die off the fishing will succeed and I'll be back at square one. With drawling for one more fish, one more hook up, one more acrobatic display or run upstream while my fly reel empties out. Sure there are lake run steelies and browns that temporarily feed the urge, but that last king salmon will always be in the back of your head. Urging for the next hook up the next season of another chinook king salmon.

Billy