When I left the house this morning, I thought I was going steelhead fishing.
As it turned out, I went smallmouth fishing and managed to scrape up a few steelhead as a nice bonus.
One minute we're hauling in hoovers,
The next we're double fisting jumbo trouts.
This would all be perfectly normal... if it were April 22nd instead of March 22nd.
I probably shouldn't be complaining.
It's 80 degrees out and the sun's been shining for a week straight. But the steelheader in me knows that something's not right...
and I can't help but fear that the end is near.
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