Fishing involves as much luck as it does skill; It also makes for great memories
Puget Sound is fish heaven this week as the Salmon continue to migrate to area rivers. I've been fishing for close to 83 of my 91 years starting with scrap fish in Renne Lake near Portland, Oregon in 1928, so I've learned a few tricks in that time. I should mention that fishing is as much luck as it is skill.
South of the outfall at Harbor Island in Elliot Bay the Duwamish River becomes the Green River about where the old drive-in theaters were located. One early morning in 1959 I hit the water bright-eyed and bushy tailed hoping to land an elusive Steelhead Trout I'd heard so much about.
Down below the Allentown bridge the water runs slow and slightly murky. Dressed in my Warshal's knee-high waders I made my way over the slippery bank, through the blackberry vines to take my place along side a rather taciturn gent who was already working the water.
Fishermen are a special breed. Finding a secret spot was important; being their first was paramount. He was not delighted to see me but said nothing. That was okay. Talking scares the fish.