...very nearly landed my fifth steelhead over this last weekend while fishing the Siletz river in Oregon. After plugging away all summer with not so much as a pull from one of the elusive beauties, I found what I had been missing all along. A good heavy rain. Late last Wednesday evening on a long distance chat with the in-laws over subjects entirely unrealated to fishing my father in law mentioned the weather. Apparently the weather had finally turned, it had been raining for two straight days with another in the forecast. The wheels began to turn. "So Dad," I say, "It's been a while since you've seen the grandkids huh?" "Whataya say we pack up and come down this weekend." Got on the internet, the river is rising, the water cooling, the stars aligning and I took Friday off. A four hour drive to the in-laws, four hours of sleep, another hour and a half to the river, a two mile walk up a closed logging road and I was on the river. Three casts later, SLAM, FISH ON. Two hours and two more fish later it was getting dark and I started home. I'm not done yet... I was back on the river early Saturday morning out to prove it wasn't just a freak accident. I arrived at my favorite spot as two bait fishermen were just leaving after a frustrating morning of nothing. "Mind if I give it a shot?" "Sure, good luck." they said with a bit of condescension as they saw the fly pole in my hand. So I walked down to the river and pulled out some line and gave a first quick roll cast followed by a mend to the tailout of the small pool. And as the 31" hen flashed from the depth to meet my fly as it hit the water I hear, "I'll be damned!!"