Ok here goes a report for the ages
Got down to the river after school at around 3:30 during the rising tide. As I made the trek into my favorite spot I could see an angler with a bent rod slowly giding a pink into the shallows. This got me exited at the prospect of the coming hours as my last week had been quite poor with only 4 fish landed in 6 days of fishing( I have only taken 2 days off fishing since the last week in August
). As I arrived at my chosen spot I could see no one in sight, I must be a lucky guy as there never seems to be anyone fishing in my spot
I could see Pinks rising as I put on my favorite lure, a three dollar special, pink lightning spoon. As I begin to fish the school becomes thick as the water begins to bubble near my feet, a light tap followed by peeling line suggests a average Pink. The Buck of about 4 pounds gently slides into the net and gets the old rock shampoo as I can already taste fresh Pink. After I bleed it, I make another cast, this time my spoon gets hammered by a large doe at about six pounds or so, it also gets the same treatment as the fish before. Ten minutes into my day I had equalled my best total in the last week
The next couple hours was about the same as the first ten minutes, I caught and released 11 pinks while reaching my limit of four, two nice does at 4 pounds each were the other recipiants of the rock shampoo. I had hooked into to many fish to count, losing three quarters of the fish I had hooked, my landing ratio looked like a MLB batting average at about 2-3 out of 10. In the middle of this Pink mania I had a strange bite. This fish hit the spoon and took off like a rocket. It took to the air several times, showing its bright silver sides. This fish peeled line off my reel like no tomorrow until it got to the center of the river. I was then able to turn it around and slowly gain line back. As I grabbed for the net I got my first look at this fish; bullet chrome, thick and missing an adipose fin
A double take made me realize I had myself a hatchery coho
I gently put the net down and tailed the fish, took the hook out and set him free. I tried to take a pic with my phone but it didn't turn out so well. The fish was about 6 or 7 pounds and was starting to develope the coho snout.
At about 6 or so I decided to give my dad a call, he said he was on his way and we were going to venture up a little further to see if we could re-locate the Pink schools which were slowly dieing off where I was. After lugging my fish the 20 min walk to the car we were off to find more fish. As we arrived at our spot we see people already packing up and leaving but still many fish flipping and rising in every direction. My Dad put his rod together as I prepared to watch the action after already limiting out. Cast after cast was made with nothing to show for it. The fish just seemed more interested in getting to their spawning grounds. With about ten minutes of daylight left my Dad finally connects, but this isn't no ordinary Pink. Line screams off the trout rod and reel as the fish darts upstream. My Dad having absolutly no control over where it is going. It takes to the air; once, twice, threee times before taking another hundred yards of line to go along with the other hundred it had already taken. After 5 or 6 mins of peeling line it finally turns and starts to come back. By this time my Dad had broken into a sweat as we both wondered what he had tied into. As the fish finally gave up after ten minutes or so we got our first look at the beast. Bright silver and larger then any Pink we had ever encountered. As I went to tail it, as our net was to small, I noticed the distinct spots on the back of a chrome spring. A orange Gibb's croc spoon dangling from the side of its mouth.
The Chinook of about 12-14 pounds was bonked and put in the bag as two happy fisherman headed for home
A trip I will not soon forget
They are out there guys so go get'um